THIS JUST IN: You shouldn't respect everyone's opinions.
“You should respect
everyone’s opinions.”
Above lies rhetoric that,
at first glance, seems a harmless and broadly accurate maxim. Similar to the
often-repeated proverbs of the politically agnostic such as “there are two
sides to every story” and “an eye for an eye makes the world go blind”, this
little saying often pops up during times of great political tension.
In the last few years I
remember this phrase emerging around debates of political correctness,
specifically when one of the men with a neck beard was kicked off of Duck
Dynasty for saying, “[Gays are] full of murder, envy, strife, hatred. They are
insolent, arrogant, God-haters. They are heartless, they are faithless, they
are senseless, they are ruthless.” [x]
Whew. Mostly centrist liberals often came to his aid, I recall, saying that of
course his opinion was wrong, but he had a right
to it, just like anyone else.
More recently, in my high
school English class, we read an article about a democrat woman who
congratulated herself on how she came to terms with realizing that we are all
people, you know? Even republicans. We’re all just humans on the planet earth.
My response, which I
thought at the time was relatively mild-mannered, evoked a reaction far greater
than I expected. I said, “It’s pretty easy for her to say, isn’t it?”
The class looked at me,
unsure of what I could be questioning. Wasn’t I the girl who kept going on and
on about equality?
I added, “I mean, this
white, wealthy woman married to a man. What does she have to lose by siding
with the oppressors?”
It was one of those
conversations that you replay over and over for weeks after. I find myself
sometimes turning it over in my mind even now. In my mind, I don’t lose my
cool. I can rewrite the memory so that I don’t end up crying in front of my peers.
That my eloquence wasn’t lost because of the salt water burning in my
eyes.
The teacher argues that
we’re all just trying our best, that you have to respect everyone’s opinions, that how can we ever make progress as
a divided country?
At that point in my life,
only seventeen, I’d heard all this before. It had always struck the wrong chord
with me but I’d never sorted out why. Until then.
I muttered through
clenched teeth and clouded eyes, when the class had gone silent after seeing me
fall apart, “I cannot respect those who do
not want me alive.”
The teacher didn’t know
what to say. After some moments, the bell rang. I walked out.
In my mind this isn’t
what happens. In my head, I look at these upper middle class supposed peers. I
speak not with anger (though warranted) but with passion. Finding some newfound
fire in myself, I continue, “It’s easy for you to sit with these people at your
table, to share a meal or watch a game of football together. To put politics
aside for a moment or several or for the rest of your life. But when the
question on the table is, should I be electrocuted for wanting to kiss who I
want to kiss? Do black lives really
matter? Were his hands really up?—These I cannot discuss over supper with a
placid smile.”
I think we assume safe
rhetoric like this doesn’t need to have nuance because it comes across so
universal. From kindergarten we’ve been taught to get along regardless of what
the other person thinks. And for about 95% of opinions, I would agree.
I might judge you for
thinking DC is better than Marvel, but in the end, it won’t break a friendship.
It would be ridiculous if it did.
And for some reason, small,
relatively unimportant viewpoints on things such as comic book companies, are
put in the same realm as the question of basic human rights. We assume all
opinions are equal, both in terms of weight and impact and even truth. Sure,
there are opinions about the shape of the earth. But are they really all as
plausible, as researched, as proven? Should we respect the repeatedly defeated opinion that climate change is a hoax,
even if it puts all of our lives in danger?
Another common phrase
that truly only applies to the privileged or the greatly apolitical, “don’t
bring up religion and politics at the dinner table”. With regards to religion,
I understand, yet often both themes are related.
What I want to know is,
who am I eating dinner with? Why are we hiding our strongest beliefs behind
small talk in order to secure a fragile relationship? This is the language of
the privileged who don’t need to talk about civil rights or presidents or
policy at the dinner table because after dinner is done, their lives will go
back to being their lives. They can toy with the question of equal rights like
they’re asking about your favorite movie.
I’m feeling myself become
more of a Magneto than a Professor X as time goes on. More Malcolm, less
Martin. More 90s anti-establishment hip-hop and less “All You Need Is Love”
Beatles. You get the idea.
Regardless of my personal
journey with this concept, I think this neoliberal rhetoric of opinion respect
and opinion equality is in the same boat as the dreaded post-racial outlook, or
post-sexism. It’s insinuating that we’re in a world where opinions do not
create physically harmful results. As if all the rights have been fought for,
all the antagonistic tension tied up in a lovely denouement.
For some, I’m sure, the
world seems that way. I wish I knew how to say “good for you” in a way that
doesn’t sound passive-aggressive but alas. Instead, I’ll offer a hand to those
in the middle ground, who aren’t too far gone, who haven’t denounced me as evil
or unnatural or sinful just yet. We offer, all of us antagonized by the system,
windows into our experiences. Through literature, art, and 90s
anti-establishment hip-hop. We know the middle is safe, and comfortable, and
easy. But I want to ask,
For who?
I love it!!!! Great essay :-)
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