It’s a problem.
Winning short circuits our rationality. There’s something deep in our unconscious brain that want to win, and especially, I think, wants to feel the heightened connection that comes from being part of a winning group.
Why is that a problem? Because artistry doesn’t come with winners. The amazing musical at my high school every year doesn’t get to be named “state champion” like our women’s basketball team did around the same time as the musical. Our shared human nature led to:
- Overflowing stands for games, when there were plenty of empty seats for musical performances.
- A buzz around the success of the winning athletic teams.
- A feeling of belonging for a winning athletic team that non-competitive performers just don’t have.
To be crystal clear: I don’t blame anyone for supporting winning (or non-winning!) athletic teams, and I don’t envy the success or the connection that athletic teams enjoy. I just want to acknowledge that our brains are seemingly hardwired to come together around sports in a way that they aren’t hardwired to come together around arts, and that I think it’s because sports have winners.
There are a few choices we have when accepting this fact.
- We can find ways to win things. My community responded overwhelmingly when I took choirs to the World Choir Games; but I had to work hard to remind my students that art isn’t about medals. Many choir directors work hard to frame their festival performances in athletic terms.
- We can just complain about inequity.
- We can work hard to organically, repetitively, and persuasively convince people to take the extra time to appreciate all that the arts give us beyond winning and losing. There is deep, powerful value in experiencing art, and it’s worth it.
Obviously, I think #3 is the best option. So we become communicators, spending as large a percentage of our time as we can in getting the word out about the arts in our communities and programs.