Two envelopes, one question

My friend Janice has been curating thought-provoking shows for our community. She asked artists and audiences to question their boundaries in “Over the Line,” exploring themes of protest and censorship. In “DEIFIED, Deified Defined Defiled Demonized,” she invited us to consider how we think of ourselves and how others define us. Now she’s back with a socially engaging theme I decided was specifically made for me, and this time I will be artist as well as audience.

“Like a Dog: A Look at Selective Compassion,” opens May 9 at The Beatnik gallery in Joshua Tree. The prospectus seeks work that awakens, compares and increases compassion, prevents trauma and elevates love.

Right out the gate, the idiom “like a dog” cuts. It’s negative to be treated like a dog, to work like a dog, to be sick as a dog. Whether you are more concerned for the person degraded by the saying or the historical (and current) degradation of dogs is part of the conversation as well. This thing is complex; it’s a Janice Taitel show, after all.

So I’m speaking for the dogs – the animals – as there are plenty of voices for the humans, who can mine the confounding selective compassion around racism, sexism, classism and more. Why are some people more quick to come to the rescue of a dog than a victim of domestic abuse, Janice asked me today. I did not have a ready answer, but I do have questions of my own about people’s selective compassion for animals.

Specifically, how can we cradle some and harm others?

This goes beyond cultural relativism. Whether a community eats cows but not dogs, or dogs and not cows, the underlying question is the same. The ism I am examining is speciesism, where humans are on top and decide who is friend and who is food. I am asking: Dog or cow or pig or chicken or any sentient being – what’s the difference, and why would you choose to eat any of them?

I’ll be sitting at a table with an open chair across from me, Marina Abramovic-style. I have two identical envelopes in front of me. A sign behind me says, “Sit when you are ready.” I say nothing and offer one envelope to the guest, who opens it and reads the card inside:

"She is 8 months old. She recognizes the people she loves by their footsteps. She gets frightened by loud sounds and moves closer to those she trusts. She has a favorite place to rest. When she is comfortable she makes a soft sound like contentment. She has never harmed anyone."

On the back: “DOG.”

I offer the second envelope, whose card reads the same. Except on the back: “PIG.”

The guest looks up, we pause, breathe, and then I press a small slip of paper into their hand. “We decide the difference,” it reads.

And then there’s a response wall with a jar of pens and the prompt: What’s the difference?

I’m looking forward to the show, but I’ve never done performance art. If you have any suggestions, please do send them my way. And if you are local, I hope you’ll come out for it. Scientists say compassion is socially contagious. If it spreads through contact, then maybe sitting together and looking at what we’ve chosen not to see will bring something new into view.

Write to me at allie.irwin@gmail.com