The Power Of Standing In Reverence

 Stand in reverence of your other;

for they are a wormhole

through space and time 

to the wisdom and welcome

you seek…

 ~~~~~~~

It has become culturally popular in the past few years to reject the idea of political correctness. Mocking it, blaming it, eschewing it; all a welcome party game – whether the party is political or social. And I am tempted, at times, to join this game since you cannot seem to lose, and I love games I cannot lose.

But the reality is I feel a need to defend it. Or at least something like it.

It’s not that I see a need for policing the language or viewpoints of others through public shaming, as some view the idea of political correctness. Or that I think “political correctness” is a useful term and should be upheld as an aspiration.

What I see from many, including myself, is that when I declare that what I am about to say or have just said is “not politically correct,” I often mean that it’s mean, demeaning, or thoughtless – and, importantly, that I should not have to be judged for being mean, demeaning, or thoughtless.

It is as though my conscience is saying to me, you are about to say something that others may see as cruel, unfair, or dehumanizing. And in reply, I say to myself, “I am not captured by these concerns because I am free to be cruel, unfair, and dehumanizing.” Yet, when I speak the words, “I know this isn’t very PC, but...” I am begging out of kindness, thoughtfulness, consideration, or generosity. I want to be mean and I do not want to be judged for it. If it was not so, I would not ask to be pardoned before I am judged. 

And socially this happens as we give permission to each other to be the things we have been embarrassed to be before. But since there has been a social cost to my callous or dehumanizing assertions in the past, I seek to neutralize the argument by calling it political correctness run away. I can say something racist or sexist, and then instead of defending my racist or sexist (or whatever) viewpoint in society, I instead attack the straw man of political correctness. I don’t have to defend the morally indefensible, I can instead attack the “overreach” of the offended’s moral convictions.

But before I call for the establishment of political correctness, let me also make another observation: righteousness in social interactions is not possible. It is true that no one deserves to suffer the ignorance and pain of racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, xenophobia, and the various other forms of social ill that afflict us. And it is not the job of survivors of systemic injustice to guide offenders out of guilt. So how do we proceed?

I think it is valuable to consider what is happening internally for a person who has decided to attack political correctness. There are a portion of people who complain about PC norms because they have real contempt for the groups they see as being unfairly protected. Some of them are probably not going to abandon their deeply held prejudices anytime soon. There is another group who cheers along when PC is eschewed because they have frustrations with the social and political circumstances they experience and find some sense of solidarity and catharsis in releasing that frustration – even if it’s in a way that violates other people. And then there is a group for whom mocking or tossing aside PC is a casual pastime, used when they want to explore the edges of what is deemed to be in “good taste.”

What I believe all these groups have in common is the experience so many of us have – personal connection to a public gaffe related to political correctness.

This could take the form of having said something at work or with friends that seemed to be unwelcome or that clearly was seen to be cruel or ignorant. Sometimes we have offended the group because we have a genuinely ugly opinion, but many other times it is a misstep related to our lack of ability to articulate our feelings and opinions in ways that will not offend people. We want to say something good, but our exposure to stereotypes, hurtful language, and uninformed opinions cause us to stumble through our speech. If we have felt shame in these moments, we may develop resentment for the invisible social rules that we fell afoul of.

Or a friend, family member, or public figure with whom we associate may do this and we may sympathize with what we see as unfair treatment. Political correctness, or those rules that we have violated to our shame, becomes a reminder of our social failings or our sense of ignorance at having not understood that our actions would inspire the hurt of which I am accused of inflicting. That shame can cause us to mobilize our self-defenses, projecting the shadows of our heart and mind onto the new common enemy – political correctness.

We can conclude, in so many words, “I don’t have to look at where my views come from or how my actions may affect others, I can and should defend myself from unfair attack. Those people who are so self-righteous will never be pleased. I’m being honest, isn’t that a virtue? Isn’t it true that we need people to say what they think? You can’t talk to those people! That’s why I hate political correctness, it’s so hypocritical.”

I say all this, not defend the deeply offensive words and actions that so many people engage in today, but rather to preface a suggestion: for many people, political correctness is a reminder of their internal struggles with self-awareness and their past failures to live up to the person they thought themselves to be. And when people have a shared experience of shame and no obvious way to escape it, they will find ways to push back against the shame and its symbols – even if their actions were in fact shameful.

When we understand this, a second point becomes salient. Political correctness is a binary construct – you are either correct or incorrect. And great social shame has been constructed around that binary. At some point, as with many social binaries, those of us who find ourselves (even if by our own actions) on the wrong side of a social binary will begin to question the premise. To put it in middle school terms, we will say to our perceived other, “I’m not politically incorrect, you are.”

At this point in the social discourse, self-awareness and empathy for our other becomes very difficult. Social binaries tend to reinforce divisions, not heal them. And so here we are.

Some of us believe that we have been unfairly judged by hypocrites who want to control our thoughts. Others of us believe that some people just want to get away with racism, sexism, and so on. So do we defend political correctness? Throw it out?

The invitation I would make to those who speak against PC culture is to take people on their own terms.

You don’t want to be politically correct, fine. But could you call me by my name? My name is not Redskin, it is not Bitch, it is not Faggot. Learn my name and I will learn yours.

You don’t want to be politically correct, fine. But could you listen to my story? My story is not discovery, it is not disability, it is not invasion. Hear my story and I will hear yours.

Hear my story in my words and call me by the name I have taken. Let us learn about one another and agree to welcome each other as we come. Let us host each other with generosity as we listen and share things important to us – like stories and names. And when we finish, let us agree to not speak ill of each other’s names and stories, as if the memory of our time together is the continuation of our sitting together. Our hearing will not be a binary of correctness or incorrectness, but a mutual hospitality of attention.

Our path forward is together – but please, call me by my name.

Whose story do you need to hear? Whose name do you need to learn? Who do you need to learn to revere?