Look at this picture for just a second. What is your very first reaction? Now take another look and think about what memories it brings up. The test is named after its creator, a Swiss psychologist named Hermann Rorschach. Some psychologists use this test to examine a person's personality characteristics and emotional functioning. When I look at this picture I see two dancers. They are colored in gray ink. I am not the biggest fan of dancing; I am not that graceful. I was in gymnastics since I was four, and of course, when I was ten I wanted to try dancing. I was the kind of girl who liked to try everything; I participated in everything I could. My mom thought I was crazy because she knew I was not a dancer. I danced jazz at Studio 49. At first I thought it was really fun. We learned simple dance moves and turns. As the weeks went on we learned more and more. I started to get really bored; I was used to running around with a soccer ball or baseball. My mom had always taught me to never quit, so that was not an option. I could not wait for the recital in June so I could be done. When that day finally came my mom made me tell the teacher I was not coming back. I was angry because I wanted my mom to tell her; I thought my teacher was going to be mad. The only thing she said to me was that I was a pleasure to have in her class. I’m glad I tried to dance because it taught me a lot about myself. It was a great learning experience. Have you ever really wanted to try something and then ended up hating it?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rorschach_test
Nikki, I love following your post because I love to see the inkblots and read your insight. The gray ink reminded me of two angels with the separate grays representing the wings. I wonder what the psychologist would tell me that means lol.
ReplyDeleteAnd to answer your question, yes I have been in a similar situation. I remember I was about 10 years old when we went to my cousin's house in North Carolina for the first time. She had a huge antique piano, and I loved sitting there for hours attempting to play it. After those two weeks, I returned home and begged my parents to get me a teacher and a piano. They did both after months of begging! After the first few months of learning, I started to hate it. I realized it was much more fun where there wasn't a teacher forcing me to play the "right" way! I could read the notes and figure it out myself, but she was forcing me to do everything her way. I told my parents I wanted to quit, and they made me finish the session that we had already paid for. The teacher herself told my parents that it was a good thing that I had addressed the issue, because she could see I was not enjoying myself!