I've been spending a lot of the last few months trying to see beyond my own perspective. Usually it's just me worrying that I'll say or do something that unintentionally upsets someone else. It can get pretty neurotic. I lack the communication skills to be both direct and clear with others, or at least I do when communicating through text. My messages tend to come with a dense coating of clauses and explanations and apologies in order to pre-empt any possible misunderstandings (it's exhausting for all concerned).
Combined with my apparently desperate need to appear witty and insightful it takes me quite a while to actually compose a message, with most inevitably turning into a mini-essay (sometimes with several drafts) only vaguely connected to whatever it is I wanted to originally say.
I'm actually pretty OK with that. I mean I'd love to be both brief and considerate, but I'd much rather be thoughtful than curt.
But I feel like I've been far too reluctant to extend the same courtesy to people who's thoughts and views I consider fundamentally wrong. Not that I'm aggressively rude towards people I disagree with, but I'm quick to dismiss the perspective of someone who's view point seems so contrary to my own that we may as well be from different realities. Which seems to ignore the fact that for all intensive purposes, we are.
I mean both of us have only ever experienced the world from our perspective. Our experiences, our knowledge base, our upbringing, the more you think about what it is about yourself that led you to form your viewpoint, the more you have to recognise how complex and multifacetated the other person's thoughts are.
And so while the other person's perspective may leave you disgusted, be it an opposition to gay marriage or a belief in the segregation of the races, it doesn't necessarily mean that the best way to deal with that person is to disassociate with that person. It's no coincidence that the issues that fundamentally divide people rarely offer a middle ground.
I look at a person who is arguing against gay marriage and struggle to understand how they could be so insensed by the thought that two people of the same sex having their love recognised by law. I can't think of an argument that would convince me that I'm wrong. But it is just as likely that that person looks at me and thinks the exact same thing.
Maybe they're deeply religious and they genuinely fear that by recognising gay marriage and homosexuality that we are embracing sin and damning everyone to hell. Maybe they care deeply about the people who I believe will benefit most from being able to marry, but to them they're trying to save them from an eternity of torment. Maybe they simply believe that promoting gay marriage will lead to a declining birth rate and worry that there won't be enough children born to sustain the human race. Maybe they make a lot of money selling campaign materials to gay rights activists and they don't want to lost business. Maybe they're just bigots. The point isn't whether or not I agree with them or even whether or not they've come to their viewpoint for a good reason (either morally or logically), the point is that if I'm going to change their mind, I need to know why theirs is so set.
And there's an even more important reason why I need to be able to entertain the views of other people: the possibility that I'm wrong. I'm not suggesting that people who are fighting gay marriage are right, that just seemed like the most current example, but if it is possible for the people I disagree with to believe in an idea with such zeal and devotion that when asked about it they will say they know it's true not they think it is, I have to accept that I am just as capable of believing in something just as wrong or just as narrowminded as an absolute truth. History is littered with well-intentioned people who's worldviews we would find repugnant today simply because of the world they grew up in, it's arrogant to believe that you are somehow impervious to that.
I'm not suggesting that we have to entertain every thought or idea we disagree with (in my experience your brain tends to turn on you when you do so). And more importantly, I'm not arguing that everyone's thoughts and feelings need always be considered and accomodated. Not all arguments are created equally, and it is much more important for the black kid on the street getting stopped for being born on the part of the colour wheel that white people find scary to be heard then it is for the white guy who called the cops on him. But on some level we need to acknowledge that the person we need to convince there's a problem isn't the kid. As frustrating as it is that the ignorant and the reductive seem to monopolise the conversation, the only way to force real change is to get them to shut up and listen.
And it's pretty arrogant of me to act like I'm illustrating some grand truth or that you should listen to me. I'm a white, middle class guy who's never had to struggle, I can't possibly know what it's like to have people just tune me out because of a freak of birth. But unfortunately, the people in power are the ones who's minds need to change, and if you're going to turn them around then you need to understand why they're wrong in order to show why you're right.
It's not something you need to do all the time. Or even most of the time. I mean it's kind of fun to laugh at people saying stupid things. Cathartic too. And it can help to motivate you when someone believes something that makes you really angry, because who doesn't like proving an obnoxious person wrong? I just feel like a lot of stuff I've read online of late has been mean-spirited, taking cheap shots at people who might not even be able to fight back. I don't know, maybe I'm overthinking things, I'd just like to think that I could say something wrong or make a mistake without it meaning that I can't change, even if I need someone else's help to see it.