January 1,
2007
Consider My
Silence a Sign of Your Stupidity, Not Mine
A very good friend of mine just got
dumped. Now, I’ve been a dumper and a dumpee for a lot of silly reasons
myself. I had to cut ties with one guy who reminded me too much of Fred
Flintstone. Another broke up with me because I wasn’t in a sorority.
I guess when it’s not right, it just
isn’t, and you’ll find a reason – no matter how little merit it may have
– to end it.
But this time, I had to take a little
offense myself. You see, my friend got dumped because during a dinner
conversation with her boyfriend’s parents, she chose to remain silent.
From there, it spiraled. He assumed that she had no knowledge of the
subject at hand; that his parents would think she wasn’t schooled in
current events; and that their future wouldn’t include enough
intelligent conversations to keep him interested.
Ever heard the saying that silence is
golden? Apparently, he hadn’t.
Not surprisingly, my friend and I are a
lot alike. We don’t have our opinions stuck to our cars on bumper
stickers. The décor in our offices wouldn’t give you a clue as to our
voting preferences. We don’t wear our hearts on our sleeves because,
frankly, they’re needed inside our bodies to keep everything functioning
smoothly. Including some of our relationships! Like those with
boyfriends’ parents, supervisors, coworkers and a host of other people
who we need to have positive relationships with in order to have - well,
order.
Here’s the thing. My opinions come neatly
wrapped in 4’10” Caucasian brunette package. But inside, the package is
more complicated. If I let you inside too soon, that might just be the
end of what could be a great friendship. I simply have to get to know
you first.
What’s wrong with that?
In my friend’s case, the dinner subject on
that particular night happened to be the war in Iraq. A war in which her
boyfriend, and his parents, knew not one person that had fought or died
in. For that matter, they knew no one in the military save for a few
distant friends of friends.
On the other hand, we grew up in a town
where military service after high school is the norm for most of the
young men, and several of the women. We’ve seen them injured. Attended
their funerals. Greeted them back home as different people, sometimes
shells of their former selves, but always stronger.
I’m no Michael Moore, and I’m not going to
stick a microphone in any Congressman’s face to ask him why his son
isn’t serving in Iraq. If the world were full of people who expressed
their opinions like Moore did, we’d always be a people at war.
Instead, there are those of us who find
that silence brings peace. And that’s not such a bad thing. In the
world, nor in some relationships.
Now, I’m not advocating that the ability
to express oneself isn’t one of the greatest freedoms afforded to
Americans. It most certainly is. But can you imagine that conversation
around the dinner table had she spoken up? It would have been just like
a grenade thrown into a crowded street. At first, stun. Then, residual
fighting. People left hurt.
Would it have been worth it?
Apparently, her ex-boyfriend thinks so.
Me? I would argue that sometimes,
remaining silent around people who are clueless about what they speak of
is a much greater art than debating with them. Other times, it’s more
simple. It’s nothing more than a sign that I don’t know you well enough
to trust you with what’s inside my head.
Either way, believing that silence is a
measure of one’s intelligence or connectedness to the world is, in and
of itself, stupid.
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This
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