If you've not had a 13-year-old in the house lately, you cannot realize what a dicey proposition it is to suggest a trip to a museum during Spring Break.
We had not planned a spring trip this year and, after recovering from the flu, I attempted to make a nice staycation for her.
We had our nails done. We went out to dinner. We brought in Chinese. We saw a movie.
Friday was coming up and I had been batting around the idea of visiting the Levine Museum of the New South.
I took a class in Davidson recently and on one of the long late-night commutes, I heard about a compelling exhibit there on WFAE's show, Charlotte Talks.
The exhibit deals with the transition from Charlotte from black & white to Technicolor. Charlotte's 1990 census stood at 500,000, and the projection for 2010 is a cool million. People have been moving to Charlotte by the truckload, drawn by the temperate climate, the relatively low cost of living and ... jobs. More than 60,000 newcomers move to the area each year.
For the first time in its history, Charlotte has had to learn to live with foreigners.
Not the kind who come from New York. They've been here for a while.
The kind who came across oceans to arrive here.
The Charlotte school system says it has students from 151 countries, speaking 25 languages.
The exhibit, titled, Changing Places, tried to foster understanding of different cultures and how it might feel to be from another country.
I was enthralled. I visited the website and studied the exhibits. I called the museum to find out how teen-friendly it might be. The docents told me that it's quite interactive.
We weren't disappointed.
For starters, I did not ask the family, as I usually do, when I plan an outing. I simply put it on the calendar.
When Friday came up in conversation, I casually said, "Oh, that's the day we're going to Charlotte," as if we had already discussed it.
When Friday morning rolled around, I knew I had to handle it delicately. I tiptoed into LO's room and whispered, "Good morning!" I rubbed her back just a bit.
"I don't feel good." She rolled away from me.
"Aw, why don't you take an extra five minutes?" I tucked the covers in around her and slipped out. Went upstairs for my shower.
When I came back downstairs, I gave it my best shot. "Would you like to drive through Biscuitville on the way to the museum?"
I had her. She smiled. "Yes, I would," and began to get out of bed.
Bingo.
We had a pleasant, if rainy, ride to Charlotte. Driving in the rain does not seem to make DH as cranky as it makes me.
We parked in the deck next door. I took the ticket in and asked if they would validate it for us, saving us the cost of parking. They smiled and said, "Absolutely."
Hey! Never hurts to ask!
The museum does charge admission. You can't beat the price: all three of us got in for under twenty bucks.
First of all I have to say this is a first-rate museum.
All of us have visited a second- or third-rate museum. You know, the kind with cobwebs and Aunt Patty's quilts a-moulderin' on the wall.
This place is bang-up. In 2005 one of their exhibits won an award from the American Association of Museums as one of the best in the nation.
My approach with LO and museums and art galleries has always been: don't overstay. As soon as she seems tired of it, LEAVE.
She never got tired.
Changing Places sharpens your curiousity. Various stations have 3-to-5 minute videos of people sharing their experiences.
We visited the kitchen of a family who moved here from India. We opened the cabinet doors and saw what they eat. Pots on the stove showed a typical meal. We even read the magnets on the refrigerator.
We approached a mannequin and put our feet in the footprints on the floor: stand HERE for personal space of people from the United States. Stand HERE for Japan. Stand HERE for Saudi countries.
At one point we were almost nose-to-nose with the mannequin.
We visited a taquiera, a Mexican shop, and explored their foods.
One section explored what an immigrant keeps, and what he discards, from his culture, as he assimilates into life in the US.
We watched a video of high school students who explained how they felt when we say this or that.
It was eye-opening.
We visited a park scene, and sat at a picnic table. A hopscotch on the floor showed each number in a different language. Cards on the picnic table posed questions for us to discuss: What makes a house a home for you? What is the most important issue facing the world today? What is more important: respecting parents, or respecting children?
We actually discussed them.
I could hardly withhold my excitement. This. was. working.
We viewed a video of a woman who exiled here from Niger. She struggles with English, and depends on her daughters for communication. Her high-school daughter shared her love of Charlotte and her dreams to one day be a doctor.
The exhibit ends with a flat-panel touch screen. Bubbles pass by with images of people who have also visited the exhibit. They had sat in the video room and shared their impressions of the exhibit. We touched a bubble and the person's video played. When it ended, we touched another video and saw that one.
LO actually became enthusiastic. "Let's make a video!"
So we did.
I have only hit a few of the points of the exhibit. It's much larger, took us almost two hours to go through, and provoked thought for each of us in the family
Our day ended with a late lunch and drive home.
She never complained.
Now that's success.
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