It’s hard to not be discouraged these days when your social-media feed is plagued with horrific news updates, and any attempt to reach out and support causes you believe in feels like you’re not doing enough. This effect feels even worse when the issues hit close to home, just like the recent municipal elections hit me.
As I angrily paced around my living room, fresh off seeing the new names listed under the Langford town council results, I stopped to notice a book I had left out on the table earlier: I Told You So! by Matt Kaplan.
The bright red letters on its cover stuck with me as I swallowed a festering ball of complicated feelings in my gut. The book discusses remarkable scientific breakthroughs throughout history that came at the cost of the scientists who uncovered them; those who found themselves shamed, ridiculed, or even imprisoned for proposing theories that were later proven to be true.
I have reflected a lot on these scientists in the last week, particularly on their role in progress and what it means to be “progressive” in a world so rife with judgement and division.
I was fed a steady diet of perfectionism from a young age. I hoped that by appeasing everyone around me, I could avoid trouble in the long run. This fell apart quickly, however, when I learned about the land of talking heads and dress pants that led our society. In the land of politics, one doesn’t simply make friends with everyone on the playground; in fact, it can often be in your own best interest to disagree on certain matters (the major difference being that your parents probably won’t get called in if you get into a fight over who’s been on the swing too long).
Nevertheless, “I hate politics!” was my standard catchphrase throughout childhood, simply because I never wanted to be the minnow that swam against the current. The truth is that I never really hated politics; I simply hated that the political sphere didn’t feel like a safe space where one could truly be vulnerable or express their viewpoints without an ensuing character assassination.
This is why Kaplan’s book fascinates me so—to learn of these quiet historical figures who have shaped our lives so tremendously yet suffered at the hands of many because of it.
I contemplate being one of those scientists in today’s modern political climate. In a world where every hypothesis feels like a critique, and every criticism becomes a dogpile, it’s troubling to find the most empathetic ways into a conversation. But at the risk of losing a couple colleagues along the way, I’ve begun to implement these fun things called “opinions” into my daily life. Sure, it may be a disagreement about chocolate being better than vanilla ice cream now (fight me!), but I think the overarching goal is to be able to speak my mind on the actual values I hold without worrying about ostracization.
In a world where I’m still privileged to be able to speak my mind, vote for who I believe in, and diplomatically criticize others’ choice of hat, I’d like to take my chances and choose vulnerability over fear. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll be the one crying, “I told you so.”