better than a foolish wit

Whenever I express to my father my disinterest and borderline contempt for major league sports, he calls me a bigot. That, of course, fuels my disdain and presses me to argue my point even further. I actually do think that denomination is a bit extreme – the connotation of which is something altogether too hateful for my boredom with the Red Sox. I mean no harm. I would just rather spend my time and energies on things I feel contribute something to make my life and the world better. I don’t understand how watching a bunch of men chase after balls does that. But, I accept there is some validity to the fact I am prejudiced and deliberately ignorant of the merits. 

I was thinking of this as I’ve been mulling over the idea of bigotry and willful ignorance. I’ve had a few conversations in recent weeks where I’ve done a double or triple take about someone’s lack of awareness and understanding. I should resist the label of ignorance – because, well that inspires the label on me of elitist or snob (the other word my father throws at me in my Red Sox rants). But… I do try to wrap my brain around the fact we are all human. We all look through different sets of eyes, with histories and broken emotions that form our vision. And yet there are some perceptions… that aren’t necessarily wrong… but, lacking in information. It then shapes emotion with malice. And distrust. And meanness.

I honestly don’t know how to confront ignorance. I love learning. I love talking about things – especially about things I don’t know or disagree with. It may frustrate me in the midst of conversation, but it stretches the muscle of thought. Not everyone approaches things so openly. They stand their ground and defend their perception to the point of blackening their heart against me for challenging. So I admit I become skittish to defending the awareness I have.

Sometimes. Obviously, there are times when I can’t just shut up.

I suppose this is another blog where I release a question into the ether and don’t find the resolution by my final paragraph. But it is there, circling in clouds over my head. Because I watch the news of this election. I sit in conversations with people I respect and admire only to hear nasty uninformed perceptions escape their mouths. I see this country tearing itself apart over trifles of misinformation – supplied by a mega ‘news’ station that claims itself as unbiased.

And then I wonder… why are we so content to not know? To not want to reach our brains to understand something better? To see through the disinterest and smug satisfaction of what we think we know so we don’t fear, we don’t misunderstand, and we don’t hate? They say ignorance is bliss. And maybe it’s the ignorance of being ignorant that is the best bliss of all.