On Display

Far too often, we live life in a glass case. Like butterflies in a museum, we let our worth be determined by those who pass by. Our wings pinned to the wall, an undecipherable lengthy Latin word claims to identify us. Thousands of others lined up alongside us, overwhelmingly unique, overwhelmingly ignored.

Human beings are scientific creatures. We like to categorize - insects, arachnids, losers, creeps. We like to break things down, piece by piece - large wings, long legs, fat thighs, skinny knees.We use objective facts to discredit subjective emotions. Bugs are gross.

Glass cases are for protection. If you left a butterfly on display without one, people might touch it. They might feel its hairy body, break its delicate wings. If we have a barrier that no one can see, they can't reach through and make contact with the precious treasure that's inside.

A child in a field gently cups her hands around a flower. When she peers inside, there is a gentle fluttering against her skin, as the butterfly breaks free. Her heart beats fast as she watches the little creature spiral high, flying into the sky, displaying its strength and beauty for all to observe.

Which encounter do you remember for the rest of your days? The museum or the field?

In the end, the only people who belong in glass cases are mimes. Historically, they seem to embrace it. Historically, they also have no voices.