Marija Panova, Grade 11
UWC Mostar
History can often be a highly controversial topic. A fickle subject, a living matter capable of causing equal amounts of joy and suffering. The same can be said for art; different forms of self-expression without a limit to what they can evoke in the viewer, from digging up one's darkest secrets to their happiest memories. Both concepts feed off of each other, creating raw and harrowing images and stories meant to make the viewer think, guiding them into understanding the world around them, opening their eyes to the multifaceted scam that is human existence. This was made clear to me during one TOK class on a sunny afternoon. I consider it one of the most eye-opening lessons I have ever gotten the chance to experience, a class that managed to change my view on the world around me, opening my mind to the countless possibilities in interpreting our reality.
The day began like any other during quarantine. Between refilling my water bottle and typing down my notes, not much seemed to be amiss. The Zoom atmosphere was pleasant, with students chatting away and making TOK related puns with the professor. Nothing out of the ordinary, and soon enough, the class began. The teacher announced the beginning of a new chapter - we were set to explore the Arts. He began by asking what the Arts were, allowing students to state their opinions first, enjoying the pleasant conversation. It all seemed rather tame and banal, a typical TOK class, right? I was under the same impression until our teacher decided to dismantle our (admittedly not ideal) methods of perceiving and interpreting the world around us.
Our teacher pulled up several slides from a presentation. They were host to three images: one of a dot, one of a cross, and finally, one of a 'swastika'. The teacher began a discussion about each. The class unanimously agreed that the first image is 'not real art', being a dot and having 'no effort put into it'. For the second piece, the class had more leniency. It was decided that it could potentially be perceived as art; however, its proximity to religious symbolism 'stripping it of its status as being "real art"'. As expected, the third received the most visceral reaction, a deafening silence settling in like an ominous glacier. The first thought that crossed my mind, as ridiculous as it may seem, was to question my teacher's moral standpoint. "Has this man lost his mind?" and, "Please tell me this is not what I think it is," were the leading statements roaming around my tired brain, frantically begging for an answer. The awkward silence in the Zoom call was deafening; the tension could be cut with a knife, you could see the entire class grappling to state the simple thought on everybody's mind - it is a swastika.
Slowly but surely, the students started perking up. Gathering all semblance of courage, they began raising their hands and started bringing forth their arguments for or against the odd piece's validity as a piece with artistic value. Most brought up the logical point of the sheer concentration of hate following the symbol like a shadow, a symbol through which millions upon millions of individuals had been oppressed and degraded as if subhuman. The professor challenged them further, riling up the room more and more by the second. I was terrified, absolutely baffled by what I was hearing, willing myself to not believe the conversation occurring before me.
Before anything could get the chance to escalate any further, a boy raised his hand, plunging the call into an attentive silence. Everyone held their breath - a nice mix of curiosity and dread weaved into everyone's facial expression. With a simple and neutral tone, the boy pointed out a glaring detail within the artwork - while the Nazi symbol seemed to turn counterclockwise; the symbol presented before us turned clockwise. The boy proceeded to explain the true origin of the symbol; it being a Buddhist symbol meant to represent the auspicious footprints of the Buddha. It is an aniconic symbol for the Buddha in many parts of Asia and is homologous with the dharma wheel; the shape symbolizing eternal cycling, a theme found within the Samsara doctrine of Buddhism. The entire class let out a sigh of relief, feeling quite embarrassed for jumping to conclusions and being so quick to attack. Very pleased with the outcome of the class, our teacher proceeded to explain the purpose and tradition of the experiment - an activity done every year with each TOK class in order to broaden the students' horizons and open up their mind to different interpretations of the world around them.
The reason why this particular lesson left such a visceral imprint on my psyche is due to the revelation it forced upon me - a realization of the judgemental nature of the human experience. From a few simple lines, the entirety of the class managed to grow exceedingly antagonistic towards a figure who we regarded in quite a high regard. The quick judgement and rejection of the piece have both positive and negative parts. The positive being the fact that the entirety of the class turned out to be educated on the issue and eager to step up against the perceived threat, a feeling of righteousness uniting us against the "common threat". While on the other hand, the negatives prove just how ignorant people can be and the amount of space for growth and improvement each person intrinsically possesses. Through the jarring nature of the little 'experiment', our entire class got a harsh yet very needed wake-up call. By being faced with the reality of fast conclusions and the existence of pre-existing bias within our cognitive processes, the class managed to open a new door towards self-betterment - a door that would lead to us becoming more creative and open-minded people, equipped with a healthy set of morals and meticulous critical thinking capabilities.
The day began like any other during quarantine. Between refilling my water bottle and typing down my notes, not much seemed to be amiss. The Zoom atmosphere was pleasant, with students chatting away and making TOK related puns with the professor. Nothing out of the ordinary, and soon enough, the class began. The teacher announced the beginning of a new chapter - we were set to explore the Arts. He began by asking what the Arts were, allowing students to state their opinions first, enjoying the pleasant conversation. It all seemed rather tame and banal, a typical TOK class, right? I was under the same impression until our teacher decided to dismantle our (admittedly not ideal) methods of perceiving and interpreting the world around us.
Our teacher pulled up several slides from a presentation. They were host to three images: one of a dot, one of a cross, and finally, one of a 'swastika'. The teacher began a discussion about each. The class unanimously agreed that the first image is 'not real art', being a dot and having 'no effort put into it'. For the second piece, the class had more leniency. It was decided that it could potentially be perceived as art; however, its proximity to religious symbolism 'stripping it of its status as being "real art"'. As expected, the third received the most visceral reaction, a deafening silence settling in like an ominous glacier. The first thought that crossed my mind, as ridiculous as it may seem, was to question my teacher's moral standpoint. "Has this man lost his mind?" and, "Please tell me this is not what I think it is," were the leading statements roaming around my tired brain, frantically begging for an answer. The awkward silence in the Zoom call was deafening; the tension could be cut with a knife, you could see the entire class grappling to state the simple thought on everybody's mind - it is a swastika.
Slowly but surely, the students started perking up. Gathering all semblance of courage, they began raising their hands and started bringing forth their arguments for or against the odd piece's validity as a piece with artistic value. Most brought up the logical point of the sheer concentration of hate following the symbol like a shadow, a symbol through which millions upon millions of individuals had been oppressed and degraded as if subhuman. The professor challenged them further, riling up the room more and more by the second. I was terrified, absolutely baffled by what I was hearing, willing myself to not believe the conversation occurring before me.
Before anything could get the chance to escalate any further, a boy raised his hand, plunging the call into an attentive silence. Everyone held their breath - a nice mix of curiosity and dread weaved into everyone's facial expression. With a simple and neutral tone, the boy pointed out a glaring detail within the artwork - while the Nazi symbol seemed to turn counterclockwise; the symbol presented before us turned clockwise. The boy proceeded to explain the true origin of the symbol; it being a Buddhist symbol meant to represent the auspicious footprints of the Buddha. It is an aniconic symbol for the Buddha in many parts of Asia and is homologous with the dharma wheel; the shape symbolizing eternal cycling, a theme found within the Samsara doctrine of Buddhism. The entire class let out a sigh of relief, feeling quite embarrassed for jumping to conclusions and being so quick to attack. Very pleased with the outcome of the class, our teacher proceeded to explain the purpose and tradition of the experiment - an activity done every year with each TOK class in order to broaden the students' horizons and open up their mind to different interpretations of the world around them.
The reason why this particular lesson left such a visceral imprint on my psyche is due to the revelation it forced upon me - a realization of the judgemental nature of the human experience. From a few simple lines, the entirety of the class managed to grow exceedingly antagonistic towards a figure who we regarded in quite a high regard. The quick judgement and rejection of the piece have both positive and negative parts. The positive being the fact that the entirety of the class turned out to be educated on the issue and eager to step up against the perceived threat, a feeling of righteousness uniting us against the "common threat". While on the other hand, the negatives prove just how ignorant people can be and the amount of space for growth and improvement each person intrinsically possesses. Through the jarring nature of the little 'experiment', our entire class got a harsh yet very needed wake-up call. By being faced with the reality of fast conclusions and the existence of pre-existing bias within our cognitive processes, the class managed to open a new door towards self-betterment - a door that would lead to us becoming more creative and open-minded people, equipped with a healthy set of morals and meticulous critical thinking capabilities.
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