It’s become refreshingly beautiful outside in the past few weeks. The birds chirp and flit about in their springtime gaiety; the trees bless the fresh earth with a new snow of spring blossoms, and have you ever seen such a radiant blue sky after so harsh a winter?
I’m not the only one who’s noticed how accommodating the outside has finally become. The number of sunbathers and read-outsiders has risen steadily since spring break, and it’s finally nice enough to take advantage of all the wonderful nooks and hollows tucked away in the campus grounds.
Amongst these casual (yet still hip) gathering places: none other than the infamously noisy Speaker’s Circle.
‘Tis the season – after so many cruel and lonely months – where we can once more take off our shirts and argue endlessly in all of Mother Nature’s glory.
The plot known as Speakers Circle is once again alive with the same hopeless, inarticulate surrender we have all come to know and love. I passed by the other day on my way to class, and, true to form, could hear the proceedings before I was actually in sight of them – people sitting on the steps, giving audience to a bearded gentleman in the center, wearing suspenders and an explorer’s hat.
Brother Jed? Brother Joe? Little John? I’ve always been terrible with names.
Deep in his (apparently controversial) discussion about the inherent evils of Islam, Brother Jason had pitted himself against formidable foes – passionate individuals with a thing or two to say about his far-Right ideologies; bemused spectators who, like me, had come across this little jewel of a spectacle during their passing period; and several young scholars who were neither clothed in the proper sense (again, quite gorgeous outside) nor exercising moderation in their consumption of what I’m sure was legal tobacco out of what I think was a hookah.
It reminded me of one earlier encounter last semester, where, coming home from work, I found myself passing a small group of gentlemen who had really run with the idea of “uninhibited free speech,” and were prancing around shouting indiscriminate obscenities to anyone and everyone. I didn’t take it personally because I understood their M.O. was in pushing the shock value of screaming (what were really some very cleverly articulated) swear words at whoever happened by. It was a pretty shameless and unforgivable display, but I had to admit, they had taken many creative poetic liberties in sending word to my mother.
Ahh, spring. It’s good to see you’ve made it back after all this time, and with your usual company. I was beginning to worry.
Back to a couple days ago: a few hours later I passed by again. This time around, a different crowd had turned over and somebody not Brother Jeremy was the acting instigator. This time, though, the audience was much more enthusiastic about getting involved with the whole production.
From an impressive distance I could clearly make out the dialogue between not-Brother Jim and one guy who I actually vaguely knew, both volleying back and forth with random, mutually misinterpreted passages from First Corinthians, debating whether Paul’s first dispatch to the Church of Corinth contained sexist overtones.
I didn’t stick around this time because, frankly, I’ve long been unimpressed with anything anybody has to say in that godforsaken cesspool we call “public forum.” And I’m not just referring to the misguided fundamentalists who give Christianity an unbefitting image, but to their antagonizers who directly enable that kind of nonsense and are no more of an authority on theology or morality.
The kind of debating people do in the streets is petty and ridiculous, only a minor step above arguing on the Internet. Even though I’m all for hashing out differences and humiliating ignorance to the highest possible degree, it all becomes monotonous and tiresome once you realize neither side is getting anywhere with the other.
The point of free speech and debate circles is to offer a place to connect ideas without restraint or limitation. But that doesn’t mean the kind of hard-headed banter we let ourselves get sucked into is appropriate or progressive. In the end, nobody ever wants to concede even a hint of tolerance or understanding for the other side, lest they appear to be weaker or less sure of themselves.
Things like this used to be, if not civilized, at least organized and well thought out. I’m tired of seeing uninformed incompetence trounced by uninformed incompetence. Eventually, I hope people come to feel the same way; I don’t hope for them to stop, but for a paradigm shift in the way clashing sides approach each other. Otherwise, we’re doing nothing more than arguing for the sake of arguing, and cultivating unnecessary disgust for people who haven’t even proven themselves a formidable threat.
I hope this debate season that somebody at least earns a decisive victory. Everyone likes to see an underdog come out on top, and I’d like to think all this bickering is leading somewhere.
Brother Jenkins, I’m in your corner.
