Maybe I’m ignorant.
Maybe I’m the one who can’t see what it’s all about, just because the majority of people disagree with something doesn’t guarantee it’s right. Vos Savant’s breakdown of the Monty Hall problem has always been my inspiration not to simply fall in with the crowd. It has encouraged me to always question things that are presented as a given.
When I read about Adolf Hitler, I question how bad he really was. Sounds mental right? However, considering I was born in 1991, and the second world war finished nearly fifty years previously in 1945, I have no first hand experience of the war. I have no way of knowing how the victors decided to write history.
All I can do is trust the world I see before my eyes. Trust that we speak English in my home country now because Hitler was a tyrant who the heroes on the Allies side eradicated. It’s completely possible, for me at 21 years of age, that Hitler wasn’t as bad as he is portrayed. I can only trust the text offered to me.
While that is an extreme example, the level of propaganda throughout history and in the current day is substantial enough for me to justify questioning anything.I don’t actually believe that there is any manipulation of the facts with Hitler or the second world war, but I do believe I’m right not to just take for granted that it is true without considering other alternatives, even if I ultimately do just arrive back at the original, most logical, truth.
Consider if you were reading this right now from North Korea, which in itself would be an amazing achievement, how much of what you believed to be obvious truth would actually be complete fallacy created by the government which controls that country?
Would we know if we were actually the ones in the North Koreans’ position and they were the ones seeing the truth?
Anyway, that’s enough about that before you start to think I’m some sort of conspiracy theorist. I’m not by the way. I don’t conspire about moon landings or alien abductions, but I do question things…a lot. In fact, it’s my job.
I am a journalist.
My role in society is to see things objectively. I try to look at things from every possible angle and never judge something before I have done so. Typically, that gets me in trouble because people generally react with emotion over thought when dealing with more sensitive topics.
Say for example, racism.
Recently, Fabrice Muamba was the center of a major news story when the 23-year-old Bolton footballer collapsed on the field during his side’s clash with Tottenham Hotspur in White Hart Lane. Fortunately Muamba, at the time of writing, appears to be well on his way to a full recovery despite suffering a cardiac arrest.
Muamba’s struggle brought out the best in the football world as support flooded in from across the globe. Whether it be good friend Justin Hoyte’s tweet, Andrea Pirlo dedicating his side’s victory to him or, my own personal favorite, a message from his former Arsenal teammate Cesc Fabregas.
While Muamba’s situation brought the football family closer together, it also revealed some problem children as well as some neighbors who are too noisy for their own good.
I question things, that’s what I do.
I can’t question racism. I simply don’t understand it. So maybe I’m the ignorant one?
I think of Fabrice Muamba. First thing that comes to mind: footballer. Second thing: Played for Arsenal. Third: English under 21. Fourth: Limited footballer but I like his passion and determination. Fifth: Father. Sixth: Heart attack.
Some people say that the last thing they think about when they look at a person is that they are black. For me, and maybe it’s because I’m an ignorant Irishman where most of my neighbors are Caucasian Catholics, the color of his skin never enters my mind.
What is racism based on? I can’t see it.
Skin color is a difference, a difference which I am not smart enough to break down. But why is it a significant difference? Why does one difference matter when two average humans, of the same race if you prefer, will have thousands, if not millions, of differing traits which make them unique?
Why does that particular anatomical aspect determine such widespread levels of discrimination and segregation?
Why aren’t we separated by the color of our eyes? Our hair? The size of our hands? Height? Intelligence? Each of these things aren’t things we choose but we are born with.
The only other things on the same level of racism are sexism(discriminating against a person for being born the opposite sex), hetero-sexism(discrimination against people who are born gay), all variations of religious intolerance which is a freedom of expression that people are born with.
What exactly drives the minds of people like Liam Stacey, who racially abused Fabrice Muamba publicly after he collapsed, or Chet Walken, who had no clue about soccer but saw the opportunity to racially abuse someone while they were down?
You see I will question absolutely anything. There is nothing you can say to me that I will instantly believe without forming my own opinion or doing my own research. Maybe I just don’t trust people…actually, there’s no maybe about it….I don’t!
I questioned this. I tried to understand Walken’s and Stacey’s points of view. I looked at Muamba and tried to justify their hatred for him. Instead all I could do was find excuses for them, which are more like explanations than excuses. Weaker minds, not to say that mine is strong at all, can be susceptible to their upbringing and the influence of others.
In fact strong minds can also be affected that way because I have no doubt that Adolf Hitler had a very strong mind. Say what you like about his motives or direction, he had undoubtedly a great level of intelligence to achieve what he achieved.
You can look at anything whatever way you want. You can read this post and question why you’ve just wasted your last five minutes reading the ramblings of an ignant like meself. Or maybe I’ve raised the value of the question mark in your mind?
Either way, maybe I’m ignorant, but I don’t get this racism thing at all. What makes the color of my skin so important?
I’m a white Irish man who spends a substantial amount of his time talking with a bunch of black Seattle and Chicago residents who I like to call my friends. I sincerely hope they don’t see me as a white friend or white guy, because I’m not a white guy.
I’m just a guy…an ignorant guy.