An Internet perusal landed Artifice on the musings of a local arts participant and journalist. Though young, she has quickly gained clarity. The astute author, musician and dancer remarked on local journalists, their battles against erroneous expectation and in particular the tendency of Mobile arts organizations to see those writers as little more than public relations channels. It frustrated her. She decried the lack of appreciation for objectivity. Her concerns that not enough locals viewed media reflection as a litmus test, a challenge to boost their own quality, rang true. It’s familiar. Ask a number of local reporters and they can regale you with stories of thin skin among the populace and easy umbrage inflamed by the seemingly innocuous. It doesn’t take much to "get someone’s goat" around here. A decade ago, an arts journalist for the local daily newspaper ruffled feathers because she dared give painfully honest feelings on community theater productions. It sadly contributed to her departure. Others in like positions have told me they simply stay away from similar subjects due to apparently delicate sensibilities. It put me in mind of another journalist who described to me how they were once summoned via terse order to a meeting at an entrenched local arts institution. There was no acknowledgement of the caller or recipient’s name, but simply a curt demand to hustle over as if the writer were a house servant. It rankled me to hear such, but surprised me none. Mobile is a strange creature and so is its arts world. For a town of its size, it doesn’t do too badly in the creative realm, but then again it has a lot of lost ground to cover. You see, the Port City was a small, rustic place until the Cotton Boom of the 19th Century. Though local legends abound regarding Mobile’s remarkably cosmopolitan atmosphere through those years, some scholars differ with such. An esteemed local historian once told Artifice of a reinvention of Mobile history in the wake of the Azalea City’s 250-year anniversary, a retooling that accentuated the city’s Creole past with inflated tales of cultural renown. Those legends can certainly feel suspect. While Mobile was undoubtedly more refined than the vast wilderness that comprised inland Alabama and much of the remaining coast at that time, comparisons with other regional centers reveal more. For instance, in the early 1800s, New Orleans boasted three symphony orchestras and a pair of opera companies. Mobile didn’t acquire an opera until 1946 or a symphony until decades later. Sure, chamber music existed in parlors around town, but that wasn’t exactly accessible to the public at large. Galleries were also sparse. Ballet was absent. Some spin tales of Mobile that make it sound like a combination of the Algonquin Round Table, La Rive Gauche and City Lights Bookstore, but one must wonder if a populace bursting with authors at every turn would allow such an abysmal educational system and its resultant anti-intellectualism to unfold here. After all, small college towns often boast superior public school systems since populations employed in education tend to value it. Like other towns, it took extraordinary drive by a vast minority to change Mobile’s arts scene, people with noble vision who offered their efforts for a greater good. Thanks to them, Mobile has made tremendous strides in the last decades. The symphony has grown, the opera has matured and we acquired a ballet in the 1980s. Under the leadership of remarkable people like Scott Speck, Jerome Shannon and Winthrop Corey, those institutions have set impressive new standards. Our writers are more frequently honored. We now have wonderful exhibition spaces for the visual arts. Still, there is room for vast improvement in various arenas. It’s just a simple reality. But highlighting this fact is no cause for indignation. It’s not an excuse to shirk or assume defensiveness. It’s an opportunity to prove our worth, a threshold through which lies a more expansive horizon. Sadly, it’s also a tough task many are hesitant to undertake. A greater harvest is possible with deeper immersion into the artistic genres we love. Cultivation requires action. Our appreciation of the arts tills the soil, attendance plants the seed but assumption of greater personal roles is the rainfall that brings growth. And it feeds everyone. One reason local organizations seem overwhelmed is because their workload is hoisted onto precious few shoulders whereas spreading the burden makes for a lighter load and quicker progress. Our involvement is the only limitation to and the only barometer of success. Another local journalist recently wrote of his youth spent in Mobile, how he decried the place and its lack of cultural opportunities. He relocated, then returned and found something different than he recalled. By his own admission, his change in perception was due solely to his newly active involvement. Once he did his part and stopped waiting on things to "come to him," he found what he needed. There’s work to be done here and a heartier response to scrutiny is necessary to facilitate it. We can’t be touchy when critics discuss disappointing performances or areas of want. We must quell defensiveness and take an assessment for its worth as a challenge. All of us have shortcomings, none moreso than this writer. Yet, we can’t be expected to surmount those and make any genuine progress unless we are willing to face the brutality of true honesty.