mardi 7 janvier 2020

Too specific

One of the toughest things about being introverted, in my experience, is that you develop relatively uncommon passions. By spending a lot of time alone, you can discover the most intriguing things in the world, to you. The trouble is, you've spent a lot of time alone (not meeting people), and you've discovered something rarely appreciated. Now you realize that no one you know gives a shit, at all, about this thing.

For example, I absolutely love microtuning. And saying that, I realize that probably most people don't even know what that is. And I'm not trying to be weird. Remember? I discovered my fascination with microtuning by spending a lot of time alone, specifically not interested in what anyone else found interesting, really, but in what I found interesting. I feel that many people have this sort of assumption that your interests are pitched to impress them. And if they aren't impressed, they resent that, or you. So I don't really talk about microtuning, even though it's one of the greatest things ever. And just now, the prompt for this screed, I was looking regretfully at a Wendy Carlos video on YouTube whose tab was still open, because I loved the video. What could I do with it? Who could I send it to? Who would like it? Sadly, I don't know anyone who would like it, probably. If I do, I can't think who it would be. Oh, I can drag up a few people who would semi care. But it would be a case of them trying to humor me; I thought they'd like it, and they kind of find something to say, or they try but don't. (Here's the video. It isn't actually about microtuning, it's about synthesizers, but Wendy Carlos is a big pioneer of microtuning. Here's a great article she wrote on one small aspect of microtuning, one of her own discoveries, actually three of them.)

The television series Atypical shows this pretty well, in a way I find extremely relatable as an introvert. The main character is absolutely obsessed with penguins. He loves all the details. He's an encyclopedia on penguins. He wants to share his love for penguins. No one gives a shit at all. They look at him like he's an idiotic nuisance. He has autism. But I feel like he's me, just with a layer of social anxiety removed. If I were on the screen as him, I'd talk about penguins 1/5 as much and feel really anxious about how everyone thought I was boring and annoying and oafish and interested in penguins for some sort of dark reason. Either way, the fact no one seems to share our interest is this big social/emotional problem, in the end.

I guess maybe part of the difference is I try to get people interested? When tutoring, a lot of what I'm doing is trying to make my enthusiasm for a topic infectious. In my eyes, it isn't just "I like imaginary numbers." It's "imaginary numbers are just objectively incredibly awesome." And sometimes I do succeed. Students are often happily telling me, "Wow, I never thought of it that way before." Friends tell me that I have all this energy and enthusiasm for neat stuff, stuff no one else talks about, and they're always learning stuff from me, and they love it. At least, they say that when they're being nice to me ;)