Freedom: A Conscious Effort, Not a Privilege

This is what freedom means to me: I am entitled to hold whichever beliefs I choose and challenge the beliefs of others-but only if I'm willing to be challenged back, to actually listen to those who disagree. In order to fully possess my own freedoms, I have to accept the freedoms of others, even when they are employed in ways I find offensive or just irritating. There are so many situations in which the scope of freedom is severely limited so that it becomes a privilege, extended to the majority or to those who agree with people in power, rather than a right. The limiting of freedom happens more often than we notice or want to notice, because it's often subtle, presenting itself through an unspoken attitude rather than an actual command to silence dissent.

Choosing to stifle alternate viewpoints hurts everyone. It does not just leave the minority repressed, but it limits the majority by proxy-no one is forced to critically examine their beliefs if they're never questioned. I think you can tell a lot about a society, a group and a person by the way they dignify-or don't dignify-dissenting viewpoints.

However, those who are oppressed by this attitude cannot roll over and give in to it. In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who, I think we can all agree, knows quite a few things about freedom, "Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed."

If you'll allow me a New Age-y moment, when I visualize freedom, this is what I see: open, honest conversation between people of different ideological viewpoints. The kind where one speaks and listens, and therefore informs both one's own beliefs and the beliefs of others.

We can't know what we believe without thinking about it, and we can't truly think about it until we're fully informed of the alternatives. My parents always reminded me growing up, "We don't care who you choose to be as long as you truly think about it."

And, yes, thinking about it is exhausting on so many levels. It's far easier to be stagnant in our beliefs and never have to turn to deep searching in order to determine who we are-but, as the cliché goes, nothing easy has ever been truly rewarding.

I've become pretty skilled at being part of an ideological minority-both here at St. Norbert, and at my high school. Both institutions, while there is nothing wrong with this, are home to a high density of persons much more politically conservative and traditional in career choice than me, the self-professed bleeding-heart liberal, feminist, English major/women's and gender studies minor.

I want to say I've always embraced the constant questioning of my beliefs from my peers with class and grace, but I constantly remind myself that I need to be grateful for the opposition. When I forget this, I usually say things like, "I can't wait until I live in [insert any city known for its density of Democrats here], and I'm not constantly under scrutiny for my beliefs," as well as many other things I'd like to keep out of the press because you'll all learn what a horrible person I can be.

In all seriousness, though, I fear the day when I'm part of the majority-because it's so easy then to be informed only by the thoughts of those who agree with me, to become intellectually stagnant, to become less passionate about things, because I won't need to fight for them. To become the kind of person I used to loathe.

I'll have to remind myself to question my beliefs just as often as I remind myself to devote legitimate consideration to those who challenge me now, but, ultimately, that's what freedom is-an effort, made on an individual level, to speak, to listen, to think, to learn. No one can bestow it upon you; it's an action you choose yourself.