OPINION OR OPINIONATED?

My husband startled me once at dinner with another couple, where we were discussing marital contentment.  He said, “I married Mary for her opinions.”  He meant it humorously, because before his statement, I was freely offering opinions about the upcoming elections.  After his publicly parting the curtain from my prominent practice, I have pondered whether I am opinionated, or a woman who offers opinions.  Connotations matter.  We don’t discount people who have opinions, but we don’t like “opinionated” people. Opinionated people leap like an eager dog on visitors without being sensitive to others’ willingness to be accosted. Do I want to abandon sharing opinions, or do I want to avoid being opinionated?

            Opinion or Opinionated may seem an unlikely subject for a blog Thoughts After Seventy; however, what shapes our opinions and how vigorously we voice them fluctuate with time.  Thus, here I am, at seventy-five, weighing in on when I should open my mouth and when I should keep it muzzled, fully aware that the opinions of older folks get readily dismissed as old fashioned.  Whoever made the connection between old age and wisdom?

My friend Kristin recently forwarded a quotation from a prominent philosopher that one should only offer opinions when one can argue the opposing viewpoint with equal vigor.  I admire the sentiment, but not all opinions have opposing views.  Nonetheless, if I cannot or will not study an opposing view, I can be sensitive to a listener’s perspective.

Last summer, I was discussing with a close friend the eulogies given by G.W. Bush and Barak Obama at the memorial service for Senator McCain. I opined that both presidents were eloquently presidential, to my surprise, for during Bush’s administration I found his speeches bland. Bush’s eulogy was as eloquent as Barak Obama’s.  My friend had not heard the speeches, and may have had other opinions associated with Obama, so she expressed her disdain for him whom she accused of speaking only at exclusive events sponsored by wealthy people, and then exacting lucrative fees from which he was living a “high life” in Washington D.C.; whereas, he had once determined to live in Chicago following his presidency.

I jumped to Obama’s defense.  “Are you aware?” I asked my friend, “that you regularly disparage people who have money, although you are quite wealthy by any standards?” My words reduced her to tears.  I felt as if I had wounded my sister.

Clearly both of us had strayed from the initial opinion of the eloquence of the two eulogies.But could I have phrased my Obama defense in a kinder way, rather than take her to task for comparison of wealth?  Could I have let her express her opinion without countering? I want to learn to express opinions without attacking the person giving the opinion.

As to seeking the opposing point of view, once I tried to level the playing field of my political opinions by watching an hour of Fox News to collect information that may have passed under my blue radar. I hoped at the least to discern motives that might lead the Fox commentator to a political podium opposite my own – a kind of empathy strategy.  I failed.  Before the commentator completed the segment, I was tallying up my points for attack. Some of that tallying closed my mind to what was coming up next.  It is the timeworn, self-inflicted wound that curtails following an argument.  So much for empathy. Impartiality is really hard.

Timing and frequency of opinions deserve some thought.  My friend Judy says her mother claims that Judy was born with her hand raised.  What an appropriate image for her, a respected and outspoken 1^st amendment attorney.  I have the similar urge to raise my hand at every opportunity.  But it is not true for everyone. What about those who refrain from offering opinions?  Do they have none?  Take Tuesday Morning Bible study, for example.  Among the 30 people who regularly attend, only seven or eight of us regularly contribute to the discussion.  Some silent members comment after the meeting how much they enjoyed the discussion.  I want to challenge them: “How can you enjoy an experience where you took no active part?”Yes, but I also envy one who is intelligently observant without participating.

A favorite student from my honors senior English class comes to mind.  Elizabeth sat in the first row of the class.  Whenever I led a class discussion on literature, she raised her hand to answer almost anything I asked. I often ignored her, hoping others would join the discussion for the first time.  After class one day, when only she and I were in the room, I told her I hoped she wasn’t offended when I overlooked her raised hand.

“That’s okay, Mrs. Kollar” she said, “I can’t NOT raise my hand.”  Her voice held a note of apology as if she wished she could be one of the confidently voiceless, but popular students who couldn’t or wouldn’t risk their posture of being too cool for class discussion.  I may not always have called on Elizabeth, but what joy I heard in her voice when I acknowledged her hand, and she shared her opinion.

             Do Americans more freely offer opinions than people from other countries?  If so, perhaps there is a link to the way we teach our students.  When teaching high school English, I may have started the class with “What happened” questions just to review the plot of our current book, but I soon moved on to the Why questions, those asking for opinions, granted opinions backed up by the text.  We call it critical thinking, and American schools pride themselves in educating not only willful students but also ones who think critically.

Our media backs up the practice.  Even televised football games wave the American flag for opinion.  The game itself is supposed to last an hour, but after eliminating commercial time, a viewer still endures at least an hour of pre-, mid-, and post-game time where commentators toss around opinions.  So many balls in the air at one time. Then back to Fox News, or CNN, or any other show touting itself as a news source.  Good luck at finding anything approaching factual news.  A body lies on the pavement, a VW in the ditch, but the commentator is rushing around with a microphone asking twenty people what they THINK happened.

 

How challenging to validate opinions for the expertise of the one giving it.  Clearly the most authentic holder of opinions must be “They,” for so often we hear “they say” before every opinion from upcoming elections to the weather report.

Are opinions poisoning our water?  Should we refrain from forming, expressing, or critiquing opinion?  Would doing so make us more affable?   Cutting opinion from newspapers might save a forest without lighting a match to our brain. Besides, who wants a quiet brain? Our determination to think, to share, to shape what we experience will not lie down like an exhausted hound. Today, that’s my opinion.