There’s probably a lot of reasons for our (apparent) social divisions right now. I can think of a few:

The “Transparency Meme” – We’re encouraged to “let it all hang out” instead of “keep it to yourself.”

The “Me First Movement” – No matter what, my opinion matters the most.

The “Lost Memory Routine” – We probably always fought like this but we choose to only remember “the good old days of yesteryear.”

The “I’m on a Roll Gambit” – I may not even know what I’m saying anymore. Once I start yapping, I can’t stop!

What I will call the “Encouragement Factor.” The more we hear about the topic, the more encouraged we may be to “join in” and then the more we do, the more we hear, the more we join… you get the picture.

So let’s change the subject – slightly.

The way I grew up was not my responsibility. I was born in 1947 – we were very poor (welfare poor) and renters. We were not itinerant farm workers, but my father, mother and I moved constantly. I used to laughingly say that I must have attended at least 27 grade schools before I entered high school, and then attended 5 of those!

For a while, we lived on a reservation because my grandmother started a small clapboard church where she helped the people interface with the white world, arranging for food and health assistance as needed, Easter egg hunts for the kids so they could get some protein in their diets, and also serving them as pastor alongside the Tribe’s leader – a wonderful woman named Bertha McJoe. Her daughter – Doreen – was my best friend and we had lots of fun running down the dirt and rock road that passed through our section of the rez.

She and I were attending middle grade school together and did not worry about a thing. We left all that to the adults. Now that I am an adult, I cannot imagine what it was like for them at the time, with little hope for their children’s futures on the horizon. When mom, dad and I moved away, I cried because I had to say goodbye to Doreen. Since I did not write letters then, we totally lost touch. Many years later, I learned she had become a mother, became an alcoholic and died of the disease at a fairly young age.

So, you see, when I hear conversations about “welfare fraud” or people who obviously don’t want to move up in the world because they are “lazy,” I am offended. But when I think about it, I realize those commenters are people who do not know what they are talking about. The sad thing is they may never have taken the time to learn about the topic themselves instead of just listening to the “wisdom” of others.

It’s not easy seeing many sides to an issue at the same time; in my experience, there are usually more than two positions, and the more they conflict, the more cognitive dissonance I have to endure. But I believe it is worth it. I would much rather understand another person’s point of view than refuse to listen to them. And I would much rather they hear my views as they begin to feel less threatened by me.

Sometimes, it is necessary to stand up for ourselves and our point of view. Some issues are more important than others, but fighting over everything is exhausting and, worse – pretty ineffective. So I try to listen more than talk and be willing to alter my own opinion if I learn something new that changes the picture for me.

We used to laugh when the joke went around: “I’ve already made up my mind. Don’t confuse me with the facts.” Unfortunately, these days it seems to be the way much of our society is operating.