Shut up and listen!
"Shut up and Listen!" These were the pivotal words of advice from my father about attending school, and they served me well. As a lively and outspoken child, I transformed at school into a quiet observer. This approach allowed me to grasp the teachers' instructions quickly, complete tasks efficiently, and indulge in my passions for reading, video games, and sports. I fondly recall mastering Tetris, rewarded with computer time for classroom achievements.
Reflecting now, it's evident how much time was squandered with classmates not listening, being distracted, or causing trouble. Teachers tirelessly repeated lessons, a cycle spanning months, even years. Yet, this critique might seem harsh. The reality of school, a challenging and monotonous environment where children sit on plastic chairs at tiny desks in enforced silence, was indeed complex.
Contrary to this school persona, I was anything but silent and withdrawn outside of school. I'd engage vigorously in discussions, express my opinions loudly, and challenge others'. This, I observe, is how many adults behave today around me.
I constantly remind myself of my father's advice: to listen. To understand others, their reasons, backgrounds, and especially to seek coherence in their views. Like many, I initially judged people for holding beliefs different from mine. However, logic taught me to pause, not to focus on the content of their beliefs but on their internal coherence. Agreement is not the goal; rather, it's understanding how their beliefs interconnect. This approach often reveals more common ground than initially apparent.
This reflection was sparked by the upcoming Waitangi weekend, a significant time for Māori and European relations in New Zealand. I've been contemplating the “Kiwi before iwi” slogan and the government's attempts at universal equity, which inadvertently overlook specific social justice issues.
Politicians like Winston Peters dominate stages with insults and rhetoric instead of choosing to listen. When figures like Seymour call for debate, it often translates to them lecturing us. Free-speech advocates seem to foster not constructive debates, but rather verbal brawls filled with insults. Luxon, meanwhile, repeats his points incessantly, avoiding questions and residing in a bubble where his version of success, endorsed only by a select few, prevails.
Guys, it's time to embrace my father's simple yet profound advice: "Shut up and Listen."
