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Two sides

Posted on January 16th, 2007

Sometimes my wife finds it frustrating because I always look for two sides to the story. I don’t know why. But I tend to assume that the perspectives of two people are going to be different, at least a little bit, and so I’ll know more and understand better if I can see and/or hear both sides. (Or the three sides, or however many.)

So there is an editorial from Sunday, January 14, 2007, edition of The Philadelphia Inquirer about the religious right. The article compares it to fascism. Nothing like being slammed in the face with a two by four of somebody else’s perspective of who you are, what you believe, and what you think. I’m going to let it soak in a little more – and reread it a couple of more times – before I offer any more thoughts.

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On Empathy

Posted on November 18th, 2006

Today I picked up Sen. Barack Obama’s book The Audacity of Hope. I found this section in the chapter called “Values” that I thought was simply profound:

It was in my relationship with my grandfather that I think I first internalized the full meaning of empathy. Because my mother’s work took her overseas, I often lived with my grandparents during my high school years, and without a father present in the house, my grandfather bore the brunt of much of my adolescent rebellion. He himiself was not always easy to get along with; he was at once warmhearted and quick to anger, and in part bercause his career had not been particularly successful, his feelings could also be easily bruised. By the time I was sixteen we were arguing all the time, usually ab out me failing to abide by what I considered to be an endless series of petty and arbitrary rules – filling up the gas tank whenever I borrowed his car, say, or making sure that I rinsed out the milk carton before I put it in the garbage.

With a certain talent for rhetoric, as well as an absolute certainty about the merits of my own views, I found that I could generally win these arguments, in the narrow sense of leaving my grandfather flustered, angry, and sounding unreasonable. But at some point, perhaps in my senior year, such victories started to feel less satisfying. I started thinking about the struggles and disappointments he had seen in his life. I started to appreciate his need to feel respected in his own home. I realized that abiding by his rules would cost me little, but to him it would mean a lot. I recognized that sometimes he really did have a point, and that in insisting on getting my own way all the time, without regard to his feelings or needs, I was in some way diminishing myself.

There’s nothing extraordinary about such an awakening, of course; in one form or another it is what we all must go through if we are to grow up. And yet I find myself returning again and again to my mother’s simple principle – “How would that make you feel?” – as a guidepost for my politics.

I believe a stronger sense of empathy would tilt the balance of our current politics in favor of those people who are struggling in this society. After all, if they are like us, then their struggles are our own. If we fail to helpl, we diminish ourselves.

If you look at the book yourself, you can find this excerpt on pages 66-68.

Barack Obama, The Audacity of Hope: Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream (New York: Crown Publishers, 2006). ISBN: 978-0-307-23769-9.

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