I Don't Want to Change the World Anymore

I'm not sure where this post is going. Some good posts have started out feeling like this, but a lot of others have ended up deleted. We shall see where this one goes.

I like to think of myself as a very reasonable, logical person—almost to a fault, at times. I have trouble empathizing. I don't usually care how people FEEL if it flies in the face of reason. I am a very black-and-white person.

When I was in eleventh grade, I studied American history, philosophy, and formal logic in the same semester. We dived deep into concepts like economics and Christianity. We constructed intense, rational arguments to defend our well-developed opinions. We memorized famous speeches that made us proud of being Americans, that made us want to change the world. We were going to change the world, and we declared as much to the adults in our lives.

In my memory, we were met with a lot of raised eyebrows and nods accompanied by smug looks. Sure, the expressions seemed to say. I remember when I thought I was gonna change the world. You'll grow out of it eventually. Their looks offended me and made me all the more determined to speak truth in a way that would make people listen.

I went to college to become a lawyer. I wanted to fight for justice using passion and logic. I wanted to persuade the world of what I knew to be true based on logic, history, morality. However, after an especially tedious class, I realized that becoming a lawyer was NOT the way I wanted to do that with my life. I became an English major instead, because what good are logic, history, and morality if you can't communicate them effectively?

I graduated in 2016. Election year. For all humans who had to endure that year while on a college campus, I want to offer my deepest condolences. If I hadn't already high-tailed it out of political science, that would've done it for me. Twenty-sixteen made me so glad I had evacuated the world of academic politics. To defend myself against accusations of racism, sexism, and bigotry from people who clearly must not know me was exhausting in a way that makes my soul feel tired just remembering it.

Back in high school, I loved to debate. I loved it so much that I would—and I am NOT kidding—seek out YouTube videos that went against my beliefs and engage in comment wars with strangers for DAYS. I would defend my beliefs about anything to anyone, and thoroughly enjoy myself. It might make me sad and frustrated and incredulous that some people wouldn't see the reason in what I argued, but it never discouraged me.

Now, I am tired.

Now, I understand the raised eyebrows and smug looks of the adults I encountered when I was seventeen.

It kind of makes me want to cry. It kind of makes me want to throw chairs against walls. It kind of makes me want to refuse to talk to anyone who believes differently than I do.

I feel very "done" these days. I'm done trying to get some people to see reason, and they're probably feeling the same way about me. I don't know that my logical persuasion has ever once convinced someone to change his or her opinion, and I don't know whose fault that is. Is it mine, because I'm not empathetic and winsome enough? Is it hers, because she refuses to see the error in her reasoning? Is it mine, because I'm too rigid and old-fashioned in my beliefs? Is it his, because he bases his argument on emotion? Is it mine, because I'm wrong but stubborn? Is it his, because he's wrong but stubborn?

I don't know. I'll probably never know. All I know is that talking about it does not seem to work, although I know that's what we're supposed to do. We're supposed to keep an open dialogue, be willing to listen—really listen—to people who think differently than us.

But I can tell you right now that I do not see myself changing any of my fundamental beliefs. How can I expect someone else to? *shrug* I guess I can't.

At this point, I don't want to change the world anymore; I just want to keep myself from going crazy. That seems like a big enough bite to chew these days.

Hopefully soon—now that I'm beginning to admit and process these thoughts and feelings—I will have a more encouraging, Christ-like update. Until then, don't expect me to join any comment wars.

~Stephanie

How One Line in the Christopher Robin Movie Changed Me

"What is your favorite movie?"

Until the summer of 2018, I would experience the same gentle exasperation and uncertainty as most people do when they hear this question. I am kind of a Leslie Knope when it comes to having passion and opinions ("You have an opinion on pockets"), but I did not have a favorite movie. I'd ask you to specify a genre (fantasy?) or a quality (funniest?), and even then I'd probably give you my top three to five.

But then came...

The Christopher Robin movie.

I've seen it three times (not a lot, I know, but it's important to me that I don't EVER risk getting tired of it) and cried between four and seven times with each viewing.

However, this isn't actually a review of Christopher Robin; it's a post highlighting one teeny, tiny line in the movie that has tumbled around in my head for a year, begging to have a spotlight shone on it. It might be the line that hit me the hardest, caused me to give a quiet gasp and--duh--tear up.

(I don't think this line is a spoiler for normal people, so I'm just going to talk freely about it, but if you haven't seen the movie and feel the way I do about spoilers [special circle of Hell], maybe don't read this?)

It happens when Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh are sneaking around outside, trying to get away unnoticed by Christopher's wife and daughter. (Pooh has never seen Christopher's family.) As Christopher and Pooh tiptoe under the kitchen window, Pooh looks in and sees Christopher Robin's wife, Evelyn.

We all know what a character says when he sees the hero's girl for the first time. "She's beautiful!" It's a given; we practically hear the line before it's said aloud.

But Pooh sees Evelyn, and says, in his husky little voice, "She looks very kind."

That is the compliment Pooh gives. That is his observation. I had seen the line's set up and assumed what Pooh would say with so much certainty that to hear "She looks very kind" actually caused my brain to pull up short and stare.

Then I realized how sad and backwards our culture must still be for me to have made that assumption.

In one line, Christopher Robin taught me that 1) physical beauty is still what we expect to be commented on, 2) innocence and character see past that, and 3) one can "look very kind."

I hope that I can cultivate a spirit such that when people see me, their first thought isn't about my physical appearance, but about whether or not I look very kind.

Excuse me, I need to go get a tissue.

~Stephanie