Both Sides
PAGE IN PROGRESS
What you see here is a page of my hypertext book Me, Looking for Meaning. Initially empty, it will slowly be filled with thoughts, notes, and quotes. One day, I will use them to write a coherent entry, similar to these completed pages. See this post to better understand my creative process. Thank you for your interest and patience! :)
What you see here is a page of my hypertext book Me, Looking for Meaning. Initially empty, it will slowly be filled with thoughts, notes, and quotes. One day, I will use them to write a coherent entry, similar to these completed pages. See this post to better understand my creative process. Thank you for your interest and patience! :)
When I lived in Russia, I remember participating in conversations with friends on social media (LiveJournal). Several of my friends kept having debates, and I remember observing these debates and thinking how to mediate between them, tell them that they all/both are right in some ways, and asking them to be nicer to each other
One evening in May 2022, I was so tired after the long day with the kids. Our youngest son Sky's schedule has shifted that day (a combination of circumstances and our planning), so he was still awake at 10 pm, when he usually goes to sleep at 8. We were finally upstairs, giving him a bath. My husband shared with me with some excitement a page from a comic book Gender Queer, which he was reading though our local library app. On that page, the protagonist of the book just learned from eir (the preferred pronoun: e/em/eir) mother, that she had been considering naming em Robin. The protagonist was upset, because e would have loved to have a gender neutral name. My husband's excitement was understandable: our oldest son (luckily, sleeping already) was actually named Robin partially because we wanted to choose gender neutral names for both our children. I was so tired, though, that I did not feel very excited to see that page. Reluctantly, I asked my husband to give me some more context. He said that this was one of the books at the center of the culture wars, one of the books that is banned in some school (or not even school) libraries, that some people apparently put in a pile with other controversial literature (related to sexuality, gender, race, even Harry Potter because it talks about witchcraft) and set on fire. And even if setting books on fire may not have been as widespread, I knew that fights about book bans were most definitely happening in different states.
One evening in May 2022, I was so tired after the long day with the kids. Our youngest son Sky's schedule has shifted that day (a combination of circumstances and our planning), so he was still awake at 10 pm, when he usually goes to sleep at 8. We were finally upstairs, giving him a bath. My husband shared with me with some excitement a page from a comic book Gender Queer, which he was reading though our local library app. On that page, the protagonist of the book just learned from eir (the preferred pronoun: e/em/eir) mother, that she had been considering naming em Robin. The protagonist was upset, because e would have loved to have a gender neutral name. My husband's excitement was understandable: our oldest son (luckily, sleeping already) was actually named Robin partially because we wanted to choose gender neutral names for both our children. I was so tired, though, that I did not feel very excited to see that page. Reluctantly, I asked my husband to give me some more context. He said that this was one of the books at the center of the culture wars, one of the books that is banned in some school (or not even school) libraries, that some people apparently put in a pile with other controversial literature (related to sexuality, gender, race, even Harry Potter because it talks about witchcraft) and set on fire. And even if setting books on fire may not have been as widespread, I knew that fights about book bans were most definitely happening in different states.
When I was talking with my husband about this, and later when I was thinking about it while preparing myself for sleep, I felt the emotional pain that I know so well. It's the discomfort swelling in my chest that I came to understand as me trying hard to keep in mind both sides while not losing my sanity. This discomfort is a cocktails of feelings that I experience every time I think about a controversial issue. In the case of Gender Queer, and the cultural wars about books raging in the U.S. at that time, I could probably describe my feelings the following way (in no particular order, since I experience all of them at once, which is why it is especially uncomfortable):
1) Sadness about people who are suffering because who they are contradicts social norms of their environment, in particular people with non-binary identities growing in families and communities that don't support gender-fluidity and queerness.
2) Anger about people who want to prevent self-expression of people with gender queer and non-binary identities.
3) Longing to better understand why some people are so uncomfortable about other people's gender fluidity.
4) Frustration, because I suspect that people who are uncomfortable about gender fluidity, even though who want to burn and ban books like Gender Queer, and not just mean and stupid.
5) Guilt and shame, because that part of me that feels sad about queer people's suffering contradicts that part that want to understand and have a dialogue with those who are against gender fluidity.
6) Fear that people on different sides with be angry at me (especially, I think, on "my side", because it would be a lie to say that I don't have a side, because people on that side may say that I do not truly support gender queer folks and I will wonder if they are right).
7) Intense confusion, because want to keep myself open to different contradictory perspectives and to make sense of all my contradictory feelings.
Even the issue of both sides itself creates a similar whirlpool of emotions. I understand people who are against the "both sides" approach, I am upset that they seem to refuse the complexity that I want to see, I am angry at myself and others, I am afraid, guilty and confused. All of this probably explains why trying to understand both sides is not very popular: who wants to regularly experiences this unpleasant mix of emotions?
***
I believe that the attempt to represent two sides of a conflict is so often criticized because its goal is misunderstood. Say, person A hurt person B. Some believe that when we provide both sides we justify actions on person B. This reasoning is an example of the explain/excuse conflation. This reasoning is incorrect. We can condemn actions of person B and at the same time analyze his/her actions in a way that goes beyond simplistic explanations along the lines of "he is just mean and stupid". Providing a more nuanced explanation is not morally wrong. In fact, it can help us prevent such behavior in the future, both in others and in ourselves.
This is an example of “both sides” that I find unhelpful https://time.com/6173232/lula-da-silva-transcript/ (Brazilian president about Ukraine)
There are seldom truly “both sides”, unless we are talking about a conflict between two people. There are many participants with differing approaches and opinions
About this project: Start page
1) Sadness about people who are suffering because who they are contradicts social norms of their environment, in particular people with non-binary identities growing in families and communities that don't support gender-fluidity and queerness.
2) Anger about people who want to prevent self-expression of people with gender queer and non-binary identities.
3) Longing to better understand why some people are so uncomfortable about other people's gender fluidity.
4) Frustration, because I suspect that people who are uncomfortable about gender fluidity, even though who want to burn and ban books like Gender Queer, and not just mean and stupid.
5) Guilt and shame, because that part of me that feels sad about queer people's suffering contradicts that part that want to understand and have a dialogue with those who are against gender fluidity.
6) Fear that people on different sides with be angry at me (especially, I think, on "my side", because it would be a lie to say that I don't have a side, because people on that side may say that I do not truly support gender queer folks and I will wonder if they are right).
7) Intense confusion, because want to keep myself open to different contradictory perspectives and to make sense of all my contradictory feelings.
Even the issue of both sides itself creates a similar whirlpool of emotions. I understand people who are against the "both sides" approach, I am upset that they seem to refuse the complexity that I want to see, I am angry at myself and others, I am afraid, guilty and confused. All of this probably explains why trying to understand both sides is not very popular: who wants to regularly experiences this unpleasant mix of emotions?
***
I believe that the attempt to represent two sides of a conflict is so often criticized because its goal is misunderstood. Say, person A hurt person B. Some believe that when we provide both sides we justify actions on person B. This reasoning is an example of the explain/excuse conflation. This reasoning is incorrect. We can condemn actions of person B and at the same time analyze his/her actions in a way that goes beyond simplistic explanations along the lines of "he is just mean and stupid". Providing a more nuanced explanation is not morally wrong. In fact, it can help us prevent such behavior in the future, both in others and in ourselves.
This is an example of “both sides” that I find unhelpful https://time.com/6173232/lula-da-silva-transcript/ (Brazilian president about Ukraine)
There are seldom truly “both sides”, unless we are talking about a conflict between two people. There are many participants with differing approaches and opinions
About this project: Start page
