Multi-Faceted Nature of "Truth"
Driving home earlier this week, Raina and I listened to the
Indigo Girls and, specifically, to the song “Galileo.” Although Raina had heard this song multiple
times, she had not processed the lyrics before and she had questions about
“Galileo’s head was on the block / his crime was looking up for truth.” Raina clearly did not know the story of
Galileo, so I told her a brief version:
Galileo made scientific discoveries that challenged the Catholic
Church’s explanation of the world and solar system; in essence, he offered a
contrary truth that went head-to-head with the Church’s truth, so the Church
charged him with a crime, convicted him, and imprisoned him for the rest of his
life.
Oh, man, was this ever shocking to Raina. She was especially upset because Galileo was scientifically correct and it was an incredible injustice to be punished for telling the truth. We then had a long conversation about the multi-faceted nature of “truth.” Conceptually, she struggled to move past a black-and-white definition of truth; she firmly believes that something is true and therefore the opposing view must be false. We talked a lot about how truth is sometimes relative; someone believes something to be true and how, depending on how much power that person has, she may try to convince other people to believe in the same truth and/or to prevent other truths from gaining ground.
Oh, man, was this ever shocking to Raina. She was especially upset because Galileo was scientifically correct and it was an incredible injustice to be punished for telling the truth. We then had a long conversation about the multi-faceted nature of “truth.” Conceptually, she struggled to move past a black-and-white definition of truth; she firmly believes that something is true and therefore the opposing view must be false. We talked a lot about how truth is sometimes relative; someone believes something to be true and how, depending on how much power that person has, she may try to convince other people to believe in the same truth and/or to prevent other truths from gaining ground.
I chose the simplistic example of pizza. Raina says that pizza is the best meal in the
world, so it is true for her. I think
pizza is the worst meal in the world, so that is true for me. Both statements are relativistically true but
neither is absolutely true. But, since
I’m an adult, I have more power and can probably push for my “truth” to reach
more places (like my dinner table) than she can.
Of course, this example doesn’t exactly mesh because Galileo’s
truth was absolutely true, but it took lots of time before it became the
commonly accepted truth. Galileo didn’t
have my daughter (whose immediate response was “But it’s science! Science is right!”) to defend him yet.
I was proud of her for making the conceptual link with her
next statement: “This is like how white people thought they were better than
black people. They thought that was true
but it really wasn’t.” Absolutely,
Raina. She brought up Dr. Martin Luther
King and I countered with the stories of Abraham Lincoln, Elijah Lovejoy, Malcolm
X, Rosa Parks, Nelson Mandela, Mahatma Gandhi, and Susan B. Anthony. We talked about how pushing for a different
version of “truth” from the commonly accepted one requires a lot of courage and
determination and, in many cases, the person will not be alive to see his/her
truth become the commonly accepted one.
Changing the status quo is so hard. Raina noted that a lot of these people ended
up being shot for pushing their version of the truth – an unfortunately
accurate observation. I didn’t know how
to respond to that. These individuals
are heroes; the fact that they did NOT back down is a primary reason they are
so inspirational. I want my daughter to
have the courage of her convictions in the face of adversity and outside pressure;
to what extent she does that is her decision and the consequences she will face
as a result are hers to bear.
Raina’s follow-up question was even harder: “Mom, why do
people shoot and kill each other?” I
thought for a long time before responding with a very honest “I don’t know, because
I don’t understand shooting and killing or physically hurting someone
else. But my guess is that someone wants
to hurt someone else so badly that they decide to shoot and kill them.” I’m not satisfied with that explanation, but I
don’t have a better one. She brought up George
Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin and wanted me to explain why Zimmerman shot and
killed Martin. I didn’t have an
explanation here either. As a parent, I
owe it to my daughter to show that I grapple with the same questions she has,
and that over-simplifying with platitudes doesn’t really push for a better
understanding of the situation.
We were both emotionally exhausted after this
conversation. Raina firmly believes in
treating everyone fairly and equally and she, at core, does not understand
cruelty or why someone would purposefully hurt another person. She was rocked pretty hard by our talk; she
cried a fair amount as she processed through it all. I’m proud of her for asking the questions and
for really participating in the conversation to think about answers.
Comments