Perfecting our opinions

I have no opinions.

Well, I should qualify that statement. I have an abundance of opinions, but I have very few opinions that I feel comfortable articulating outside the realm of writing. While my voice in size 12 font is often stronger than I thought it capable, I find myself lost in bouts of verbal sparring that require well-constructed arguments, rather than sarcastic jabs. From precepts to dining hall debates, my mind seems unwilling to grant itself some acknowledgment of its own worth.

Much has been said on the matter of more generational trends, in which we find ourselves mired in pluralism to the point where strong convictions are few and far between. I don’t seek to directly add to this discourse, for there are others who have studied these matters much more in depth than I could ever hope to.

In my exploration of the matter as a whole, I’ve drawn mostly upon anecdotal evidence. The most striking of such stories came to me from a teacher of mine, who, on the first day of class, recounted her history as a painfully shy student, unable to make even the simplest of points in class. She went on to say that she felt sympathy for those of us plagued by similar trepidations but that she expected all of us to participate regardless. She now sees the value in everyone’s voice, including her own, as a result of a personal transformation in graduate school.

Perhaps everyone needs to simply experience this personal transformation for himself or herself. Perhaps some people will never experience this and will instead be caught up in self-doubt and self-quieting habits. I hope the latter to be simply a pessimistic musing, but it is a possibility.

I do believe, however, that the perfectionistic tendencies I know are ever-present in my own personality and those of many of the individuals here don’t help. I, personally, have been raised to believe that any of my many hopes and dreams can happen should I work hard enough, should I give it my best.

Somehow, my brain has translated this into a rhetoric revolving around the word “perfect” —those dangerous two syllables that we all know to be an illusion and a societal construct but that many of us still chase after nonetheless and that feeds into the trend of feelings of inadequacy that plagues the University and many other institutions.

And so, I suppose, this is less a discussion of a lack of opinions, but rather a criticism of the ambiguous construct of perfectionism, specifically with regard to our opinions. Thoughtfulness, thinking one’s argument through and refraining from a discussion because one doesn’t know enough about the subject are a group of things in and of themselves that are positive and should be encouraged, but there needs to be more of a discussion on campus that it’s fine—good, even — to be wrong or not say something in the exact “right way” every time. We all know this, of course, but how often do we discuss it? How often do we repeat this to ourselves and actually listen? In my case, close to never.

A great deal has been said on the value of rejection, especially in the wake of a new round of club applications, rush and other similar events. Somehow, a similar discourse needs to begin with regards to “getting it wrong.” Not necessarily failing on a grand scale, but microcosms of failure. By this, I mean perhaps raising a hand in seminar despite your opinion being a little underdeveloped to allow the entire class the opportunity to work through an idea together. Maybe piping up in a conversation with friends and risking sounding a little stupid is a way to learn from the people around you. Don’t be thoughtless, but once in a while, allow yourself permission to be bold and to say something, even if you don’t know where you’re going with it.

Kelly Hatfield is a sophomore from Medford, Mass. She can be reached at kellych@princeton.edu.