Logic Class Vs. Debate, Part 2: A Reflection on Shame
Yesterday in therapy I took the time to unpack more about my experiences with debate and how those memories are affecting my college class on logic. I shared that as I write my papers, some of the habitual thinking is coming back to me. The phrases I used when I competed in public speaking landed on the pages of my essays. When this happened, I felt deeply ashamed.
I realize now that I did not have much agency in my life at that time. Still, I am hard on myself for thinking the way I did. I participated in oversimplifying deeply nuanced topics, and denying the humanity of large groups of people. I was encouraged to do so. I was rewarded for it.
What I’m writing in my essays is technically correct. It’s what the prompts and the subject matter are asking me to do. It’s neutral, in ethical and emotional terms. Yet for me, it is a harrowing experience, because it brings up memories of what I once found exciting.
I was a teenager, and those debate tournaments were the highlight of my existence. I was engaged in the competition and immersed in each debate round, each argument. I felt the highs of achievement, the lows of disappointment, and the frustration of every outcome that felt unfair. It was my chance to travel and be social with kids my own age. I also believed wholeheartedly that I was being trained to communicate effectively to help change the world for conservative Christian values.
Looking back now, I realize that it’s really sad I felt so much connection there. The fact that tournaments were so fun demonstrates how bleak my life was between them. I would go many days in a row without leaving home, where I spent countless hours doing thankless household labor. When I did leave home, it was to work for my dad at his office, or to go to church with other conservative homeschooling families. Tournaments were a highlight, not because they were great, but because they were the best part of a bland life.
The shame is deeper than all this, though. I am ashamed of the many times I spoke with confidence about things I knew nothing about. I was expected to do exactly that. The whole point was to be able to “think on my feet.”
One year, we debated illegal immigration. My partner and I ran a case that would implement and enforce the use of E-Verify across the nation. I shudder now when I think of how I was one of thousands of teens who thought we were learning to debate “both sides” of that issue, but none of us would dare to paint immigrants as human beings. After all, most of the judges in our debate rounds were conservative Christian homeschool parents.
I believed I was supposed to change the world for Christian conservative values, and debate competition was preparing me to accomplish that. I believed this because they told us this – our parents and coaches, and the administrators of every tournament. “You are the next generation. You are going to change the world for christ.”
They even made a big deal out of reminding us that it wasn’t about the competition, ultimately. It was about that bigger goal of changing the world. We were just competing against each other because it would challenge us to improve our communication skills. We were doing it for god. Even now, I put “god” in lowercase letters because there was a time in my life that I feared for my soul if I didn’t capitalize it.
Now I know it was part of a broader project to indoctrinate us. When we debated immigration, we took sides on effectiveness, not humanity. It was never about humanity. We didn’t discuss such a thing because it’s a non-issue to a group of conservative Christians. To be human is to be sinful, to deserve hell without Jesus. Why would we appeal to humanity?
Christians manage to dehumanize everyone around them because they start with dehumanizing themselves.
Shame itself is a feeling I was denied for so much of my life. I grew up attending AWANA, an organization named for the acronym Approved Workers Are Not Ashamed. It came from a bible verse that said “I am not ashamed of the gospel of christ.” Those people out there in the outside world couldn’t make me feel ashamed of myself. They couldn’t talk down to me, or call my beliefs illogical, because I knew better than them. I had god on my side.
I am human, and that means something totally different now. I am just a creature that evolved to think and feel. I come from a long lineage, evolving over time, on a planet in a solar system in a galaxy that, for all we know, is unremarkably positioned in space. When I appeal to humanity, it has nothing to do with a deity and whether it’s angry. It’s about what we all have in common.
Humans are small and wonderful creatures that deserve a chance to live our lives.
Young Art was overwhelmed with so many feelings that had to be denied. I was told I couldn’t feel ashamed, I couldn’t feel afraid to speak, and I couldn’t be honest. I had to make arguments for and against the humanity of other people.
I am ashamed that the ideas I helped spread 20 years ago have led to the country I’m in now, where people are being kidnapped and killed in broad daylight by ICE. Immigration was just an abstract concept to me then. I didn’t know better.
I know better now, and I am terrified for myself and my friends. I’m safer because I’m white. I’m also in danger because I’m trans and disabled. Now, I feel shame and I write through it, and that is my strength. I am allowed to feel what I couldn’t then.
I am also allowed to give myself compassion. Not forgiveness – I don’t believe in forgiveness. I’ve only known forgiveness as a weapon used against victims of violence. Compassion says I am allowed to know that what I did, what that whole group of people did, was deeply shameful. And I had no agency then, and yes, it is hard to feel the complexity of that.
I’m reflecting on shame because it is a valid feeling to have about all this. I don’t have to deny it, hide it away, act like everything is fine. I also don’t have to hold guilt for something I didn’t choose. Once I knew better, I did my best to do better. Still, it is deeply shameful to dehumanize people. It should be.
As I learn about logic, I know that it matters to learn these skills. We did learn some reasoning, but rhetoric always won. It had to, because it’s impossible to truly practice reason and also remain a conservative Christian. I’ll say more about that in another part of this series. This part is already long enough.