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Tuesday, October 2, 2018

The Fat Lady Sings: No, I Cannot Agree To Disagree

There was a time when I believed civility required me to find the value in every opinion, to listen for the truth in every vision of our world. I believed friendship did not require agreement on politics or religion. Of course, my closest friends were people with whom I shared the most basic of fundamental values. My friends and I believed in justice and equality and in the right of individuals to pursue happiness in whatever ways best suited them. We were never in disagreement about the basic fundamentals of science and nature. We all agreed the world was round, that the Earth was not the center of the universe, that sunrise would follow night every single morning.

I was pretty idealistic back then and believed with all my heart that all people were essentially good. I thought that purest evil was a construct for fiction and the politics of people long since dead or still alive, but living far away from my comfortable American life. It never occurred to me that evil was real, that it existed in the places I visited every day, and that it had always been there.

Sure, sometimes -- frequently, even -- I found myself in disagreement with people I met. We might have differed about politics (Was Nixon a crook or wasn’t he?) or religion (Was virgin birth literally true or wasn’t it?). These differences often led to interesting and informative discussions. Once in a while someone’s opinion was changed, more often not. Still, I always felt I gained something by listening to the opinions of those who saw things differently than I.

It really wasn’t that long ago that I could argue passionately for my opinion -- discussions about the Iraq wars come immediately to mind -- and the person on the other side of the issue could argue just as passionately for hers. We could even raise our voices, angrily disputing the opposing viewpoint and, still, after hours (or days or months) of disagreement, remain friends. We disagreed, but our commonly held values kept the chasm from opening so wide between us that it could never again be crossed. We could agree to disagree.

Now, in the era of fundamentalist politics, I find that there are people in this world with whom I cannot just agree to disagree. I find that, where issues of basic civil and human rights are concerned, I cannot make nice with those on the other side of the vast divide that separates rational people from the hateful lunacy of those who would see some others subjugated. I cannot have a friendly disagreement with someone who believes women should “lay back and enjoy it” when raped and certainly shouldn’t try to ruin the careers of powerful men who commit rape. I cannot smile over the Thanksgiving turkey with anyone who believes my queer friend should submit himself to torturous therapy in order to become something he is not. I can’t exchange friendly holiday greetings with those who believe black men really deserve to be imprisoned at higher rates than all other populations or who think torture is a fine way for a government to treat foreign prisoners. I can’t look the other way when someone tells me they don’t believe all children deserve to be fed and housed and clothed and treated with gentle respect, no matter who their parents are.

Maybe the tension in my neck and shoulders would go away, if I could just agree to disagree. Maybe I’d feel more accepted in the conservative community in which I currently live. I might be able to relax again with some family members from whom I have had to step away. I do miss them. Or, perhaps, I miss the people I once thought they were. Maybe those people never really existed.

No, I can’t just agree to disagree. The fact is that some issues really are too clear cut for compromise. Racism is wrong. Misogyny is evil. Science is true. All people come into this world equal and should remain equals as they grow. No one has the right to take away the humanity of anyone else.

I can’t just agree to disagree and that’s why my circle of friends has shrunk in recent years.

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