No Longer A Mentor
So lately, I’ve lost a little cache in the mentor department.
This was, perhaps, the inevitable result of my defending the Duggars of 19 Kids and Counting fame. I wrote a post that crystallized my thoughts on the matter, as well as encapsulated the best of a few different debates in which I participated. Wherein I pointed out that, among other things,
To which I respond, referring once again to the First Amendment, a right that protects only those with whom we agree is no right at all. Shutting people down for being “wrong” is the same tactic, regardless of the person or group being targeted. And attempting to teach tolerance by displaying none will never work–because it is hypocritical. “It’s wrong when they do it, but right when I do it, because they’re wrong and I’m right” isn’t a cogent argument, no matter who’s doing the arguing…I see a lot of people, who’ve suffered hate and discrimination their whole lives, talking about how much they “hate” the Duggars and asking for support, from like-minded people, for that hate. Which really saddens me. It shows how little perspective they’ve gained, on their own experience. They aren’t advocating for tolerance; they’re expressing their desire to switch places, to be at the top of the heap telling other people how to live their lives. “I want to be the dictator” is a materially different argument than “no dictator.”
And thus the die was cast.
Recognizing that the golden rule isn’t always easy and, in fact, often requires sacrifice is the cornerstone of maturity. Once you can see beyond “what I believe” and “what I think is right” to a perhaps greater truth, independent of any one person’s opinion, you’re well on your way to growing up. The problem of course is that when it comes to mentoring, there is by definition a gap. Maybe of age, maybe of simply maturity. But a gap nonetheless and a gap not always easily crossed except by real communication–the kind that requires the active involvement of both parties. Which is where, as the older and supposedly wiser individual, you can leave others feeling let down. Let down by your persistence in being simply human, with all that that entails, and by your refusal to–to their mind–appreciate their point of view.
Because, to so many people–again, especially the young ones–agreement signals support. You show your support, goes the unspoken assumption, by sharing their views. Ergo, supporting a clan like the Duggars–even if your support for them is only incidental, and stems from a broader interest in the golden rule–means not supporting a friend’s queer identity. When, in actual fact, nothing could be further from the truth.
Treating others as we don’t want to be treated supports nobody. And part of a mentor’s job–part of a good person’s job, especially living in this increasingly challenging society–is to stand up for what’s right. And morality, unfortunately, isn’t always a popularity contest. You make yourself decidedly unpopular, usually, telling people that it’s not okay to hate (anyone). But while agreement might feel good, it cannot and should not be the priority. Nor the goal. The minute we stop critically examining our own beliefs, trading our conscience instead for self-congratulation, is the minute we lose the moral high ground. To the extent that we ever had it in the first place.
Right is not moral. One is an opinion; the other is a way of life. Right does not, and cannot, excuse behavior that is thoughtless, narrow-minded, or unkind. And right should not be sought, above wisdom.
This is, I believe, part of what people love so much about celebrities. They can be worshipped from afar. Their personalities can be imagined and, along with their personalities, their agreement. There’s none of the troubling problems that come with knowing someone as a multi-dimensional human being. With finding out that they don’t agree with you on every single thing and learning to see beyond that.
To, in short, learn from other people rather than use them as mirrors.
The advice I’ve always given my own family, as well as those I’ve coached is simple: never take advice from anyone you don’t want to be more like. Although that begs the question: who do they want to be more like? Who do I want to be more like? Who do you want to be more like? And, for the purposes of this discussion here–why?
Truly valuing a mentor relationship–any relationship–means seeing beyond agreement to purpose. It’s easy to admire someone’s tolerance when you’re benefitting from it; a lot harder when that tolerance is directed at the other guy. The value of agreement is both illusory and terribly, terribly seductive. We often find ourselves swayed by people who exercise no real moral authority, because they tell us what they want to hear. The truth is uncomfortable; a lie hardly ever is. Because where the truth jolts, a lie pacifies. Dulls. Smooths down the urge to fight with the pap of you’re right, you’re perfect.
Nothing to see here, move along.
There’s a reason people take the blue pill.
Thoughts?
