My parents taught me to question everything, especially my own opinions. I was taught to read more than just the headlines of articles and to get my news from multiple sources with differing political leanings. Whenever I’d bring up a political opinion, my parents made sure I could back it up with credible sources, not just rhetoric. But more important, my parents taught me the importance of listening and respecting others viewpoints, but this lesson took a while to learn.

When I became more politically active and conscious about the world in high school, I began to get in arguments with my dad. However, unlike the civil debates we’d always had at dinner time, these were definitely not friendly, at least on my part. I’d dismiss my dad’s more conservative perspective, and while he was talking I wouldn’t be listening, but instead formulating my counter-argument in my head. I convinced myself that I was in the moral right, and therefore didn’t need to listen to what he had to say because nothing he could say would possibly make his opinions valid. I’d let myself be influenced by the hateful, seemingly open-minded Internet activists, and thought if my friends were reading these articles and having what I thought were meaningful discussion on them, they must be legitimate. Looking back, I can’t believe how close-minded I had become to my own father.

I hear people at Carleton complain about how conservative and uneducated some members of their families are. Now, I understand being frustrated at family members when they say some problematic things; there are times when I really want to passive aggressively e-mail some of my family articles that completely obliterate their opinions. I’ve gotten into arguments at Thanksgiving and Christmas with some aunts and uncles, but it’s never been worth it. I’ve felt briefly vindicated and triumphant for knowing my facts, but once these feelings wear off, I’m always left feeling awkward for disrupting time with family. Even if they were the ones who brought up the topic in the first place, I now know that “winning” an argument is not important compared to family. Letting things go and knowing when to speak up is the true test of intelligence, and not whether you “won” the argument or not.

Everyone has a story behind their beliefs. It might be that they grew up in a time when such beliefs were widely accepted, or that they spend their formative years in a very homogenous environment. Not everyone is lucky enough to come from a politically active, well-educated family, something that’s easy to forget inside the bubble that is Carleton. This doesn’t mean their opinions aren’t discriminatory or unrealistic, but it does make them more explainable. Viewing people with different perspectives than you as robots being controlled by the fear mongering media and “yes man” political commentators is dismissing their humanity. It’s refusing the see the reasons behind their beliefs, because people without stories are easier to demonize. I know most of us have some older relatives that are subtly (or not so subtly) racist/sexist/homophobic, but think about how much things have changed since our grandparents were our age. When my grandparents were in their early 20s it was the 1950s. The Civil Rights Movement was happening and the Voting Rights Act hadn’t been passed yet. Women were expected to stay home, raise kids and cook and clean for their husbands. Having an abortion would be illegal in most states until the the early 70s. Homosexuality was considered a crime by most state until the 70s and 80s. Now, there is still so much progress to be made. People of color are systematically discriminated against and segregated through housing ordinances, poor schools, the criminal justice system, and voter ID laws. Women face the pressure to “have it all,” are labeled “bossy” for wanting to be leaders and have access to proper reproductive health rights are becoming more limited across America. The LGBTQA community still faces hate crimes and are more likely to be homeless than other teens. The fact that this level of inequality still exists, despite the progress that’s been made in the last fifty years, is a reason to be angry at the system and the people that represent it. That being said, we must understand how dramatic these changes have been. Two hundred years ago, there was not much difference in social norms from one generation to the other, and people lived very similarly to their parents, grandparents, etc. Nowadays, the difference between how a millennial grew up and how their grandparents grew up is astronomical. Our grandparents listened to the radio and wrote on typewriters. My grandmothers were an exception in that they were able to go, and were in fact encouraged to go to college. Even the differences between us and our parents is substantial; the Internet wasn’t controlling their lives, cellphones didn’t exist, and social justice movements were not nearly as intersectional. Just imagine not having grown up with these things, and how different your life would be without them. For your grandparents, life is just as different with them.