After having finished both But What if We're Wrong? and White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America, I've been thinking a lot about stuff I was wrong about. It led to the question of this post--what are you wrong about?--and, because it requires a level of self-awareness as well as a view of history and current events, it's not really something that I can throw at my students and mull it over with them. (Odds are good that I'll toss that at one of my coworkers, however, and we'll see where that gets us.)
The thing about this question that makes it hard for me to get a grip on is that I know I'm not asking what I regret. "I was wrong to order from Burger King" is not my goal with this. Additionally, it's too superficial to say, "I was wrong about my assumptions of the book Freedom by Jonathan Franzen; it was not a very good read at all, and I was miserable the whole time I tried to read it, eventually abandoning the thing." That's true: I was wrong about Freedom. That's a mistake I made--an instance where I was wrong, yes, but it's a trivial, opinion-based realization. I'm looking for something deeper.
What about this? I was wrong to assume that Americans understood that the narrative of our role in the world that we tell ourselves is a story, and that history is larger, more complicated, and less black-and-white than we wish. Closer.
I was wrong to put faith in my fellow citizens in avoiding fascism.
No, that's too close to regret.
See, that's the thing: What am I admitting by answering this question? There are underground oceans of dangerous implications that run beneath this line of thinking. What if I'm wrong about Shakespeare being the author of the plays? Well, on one level, it's irrelevant, because the plays are still here and they still mean something and that won't change in my lifetime. But on a personal, significant level, what would it mean if I'm wrong?
But that's not what I'm asking with this question, either. I'm not saying, "If you're wrong about _____, then what?" I live with impostor syndrome; of course I wonder what I'll do when I'm discovered as a fraud. No, I'm pushing toward something harder to grasp, which is why my wheels are spinning on this page--inasmuch as wheel-spinning and essay-writing are comparable.
What am I wrong about? I can catalogue many things about which I'm not wrong: The love my family bears me; the enjoyment I derive from my pastimes; my rock-solid understanding of Spider-Man's superpowers. These things help shore up against the erosion of worry that I've gravely or deeply--even fundamentally misunderstood--some part of the way the world/universe works, but they don't show me what I'm wrong about. (It goes along with the idea of defining something by its negativity, by what it isn't, which I find a vain approach to definitions.)
Maybe the question is more apt this way: What am I wrong about, but I don't know it yet? That, at least, suspends the "mistakes I've made" answers, as it forces me to consider how much I do assuming that I'm in the right, even if I'm not. And that's what makes this question hard. If I know that there's a mistake somewhere--that I'm wrong about something--I'm likely desirous to change my thoughts about it, and perhaps even my behaviors.
That only goes so far. I'm aware of the peril I'm putting my body in by enjoying so much meat in my diet, drinking so much carbonation, and recklessly consume candy. I know that I'm wrong to do that, though I persist. The same could likely be said about my reading and entertainment habits, as they're pretty far from what a "good Mormon" would participate in (and quite distant from the typical American, I daresay, on the other side of it all).
Of all the questions that I've been stirring in my mind, this is the one that's been nagging at me the most. What am I wrong about?
And how will I learn my error?
The thing about this question that makes it hard for me to get a grip on is that I know I'm not asking what I regret. "I was wrong to order from Burger King" is not my goal with this. Additionally, it's too superficial to say, "I was wrong about my assumptions of the book Freedom by Jonathan Franzen; it was not a very good read at all, and I was miserable the whole time I tried to read it, eventually abandoning the thing." That's true: I was wrong about Freedom. That's a mistake I made--an instance where I was wrong, yes, but it's a trivial, opinion-based realization. I'm looking for something deeper.
What about this? I was wrong to assume that Americans understood that the narrative of our role in the world that we tell ourselves is a story, and that history is larger, more complicated, and less black-and-white than we wish. Closer.
I was wrong to put faith in my fellow citizens in avoiding fascism.
No, that's too close to regret.
See, that's the thing: What am I admitting by answering this question? There are underground oceans of dangerous implications that run beneath this line of thinking. What if I'm wrong about Shakespeare being the author of the plays? Well, on one level, it's irrelevant, because the plays are still here and they still mean something and that won't change in my lifetime. But on a personal, significant level, what would it mean if I'm wrong?
But that's not what I'm asking with this question, either. I'm not saying, "If you're wrong about _____, then what?" I live with impostor syndrome; of course I wonder what I'll do when I'm discovered as a fraud. No, I'm pushing toward something harder to grasp, which is why my wheels are spinning on this page--inasmuch as wheel-spinning and essay-writing are comparable.
What am I wrong about? I can catalogue many things about which I'm not wrong: The love my family bears me; the enjoyment I derive from my pastimes; my rock-solid understanding of Spider-Man's superpowers. These things help shore up against the erosion of worry that I've gravely or deeply--even fundamentally misunderstood--some part of the way the world/universe works, but they don't show me what I'm wrong about. (It goes along with the idea of defining something by its negativity, by what it isn't, which I find a vain approach to definitions.)
Maybe the question is more apt this way: What am I wrong about, but I don't know it yet? That, at least, suspends the "mistakes I've made" answers, as it forces me to consider how much I do assuming that I'm in the right, even if I'm not. And that's what makes this question hard. If I know that there's a mistake somewhere--that I'm wrong about something--I'm likely desirous to change my thoughts about it, and perhaps even my behaviors.
That only goes so far. I'm aware of the peril I'm putting my body in by enjoying so much meat in my diet, drinking so much carbonation, and recklessly consume candy. I know that I'm wrong to do that, though I persist. The same could likely be said about my reading and entertainment habits, as they're pretty far from what a "good Mormon" would participate in (and quite distant from the typical American, I daresay, on the other side of it all).
Of all the questions that I've been stirring in my mind, this is the one that's been nagging at me the most. What am I wrong about?
And how will I learn my error?