la_marquise (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
la_marquise) wrote2009-04-21 02:55 pm
la_marquise) wrote2009-04-21 02:55 pm
Let's not have that conversation...
Over the course of the last 25 years or so, I've had the curious fate of doing two things that very many people find fascinating: studying the history, literature and languages of the Celtic- and Gaelic-speaking peoples of the British Isles, and writing. It's unusual and it is, I recognise, privileged. I was very lucky: I went from an ordinary state-funded school (a comprehensive, for British readers) to an elite university without having any family tradition of this, the 'right' class background or inherited money. I studied an obscure subject and won state funding to pursue and even more obscure subset of that subject at PhD level. I even managed (with a lot of effort) to gain jobs in which I was able to continue working in this field, both as researcher and teacher. And then I got a novel published. That's a lot of big things. I'm lucky or odd or both. And I know it. I accept that my academic background and speciality are of interest to others. I am usually fairly happy to talk about it, to listen to others' ideas and to offer bibliography, information and ideas.
The one I keep on having, the one I hate, the one I would dearly love never to have to have again. I no longer remember when I first had it -- I was probably and undergraduate student. Most recently, I had it at Eastercon. It goes something like this. Person -- usually someone new to me -- discovers that I'm a Celticist and expresses their interest in the subject. We get talking: so far, so good. And then it happens. We get into one of the sensitive zones -- mythology, women, nationalism, pre-Christian religion -- and they express fervent belief in pagan survivals to modern times/the existence of Arthur or similar figure/feisty equal 'Celtic' women/the utter and single-minded evilness of Christianity in its effect/or similar. And I say something on the lines of, 'well, it's not that simple' and go on to explain why and give examples. At this point, things can go one of two ways. They may say, 'Oh, I didn't know that. What about X?' and we have an interesting and pleasant discussion. Or they say something like 'No, that's wrong. I know it's wrong because I've read books by experts/my spirit guide told me/you're not a real Celt and can't know/my coven has traditions leading back to the Bronze Age/I'm a scientist and I'm cleverer than you.'1 And we go on to have that conversation, in which I am lectured about my failings, my ignorance, my stupidity, the invalidity of my 25+ years of study and so on and on. Because the person I'm talking to does not, in fact, what to discuss the subject at hand. They want to hang on to their beliefs and they find me in some way threatening.
I understand why, I really do. I hate to have my favourite ideas threatened, too. But at the same I am tired of dealing with the situation, I'm tired of the hostility and, yes, I'm somewhat tired of the disrespect. Because, you know, I've read the 'famous' experts plus a whole lot of others who are more recent and more rigorous, I've read the source materials (in the original), I've thought about the arguments and problems and issues and debated with them with my academic peers, and I know what I'm talking about. I realise that this sounds arrogant: it probably is arrogant. That's one of the reasons I hate having that conversation. It pushes my buttons as well as, frankly, wasting everyone's time. It serves no purpose. It's boring. And I don't handle it very well. In an ideal world, I'd never have it again.
It would be lovely to arrange that. My normal strategy is to walk away as fast as possible, though that can't always be arranged. I need to find a way to say this without being arrogant. A lot of me wants to say this in my public space -- on my website -- because I really really don't want any more reprises of that conversation ever again. I know that's futile. I am certain sure that a woman who had that conversation for the umpty-umpth time at Eastercon and did not handle it well, and stamped her metaphorical feet and grumped about it is neither a good public face for academics nor worthy of any other things that might have happened at said convention.
I need a better strategy -- any suggestions welcome.
1 Yes, someone really did once use that line with me.
The one I keep on having, the one I hate, the one I would dearly love never to have to have again. I no longer remember when I first had it -- I was probably and undergraduate student. Most recently, I had it at Eastercon. It goes something like this. Person -- usually someone new to me -- discovers that I'm a Celticist and expresses their interest in the subject. We get talking: so far, so good. And then it happens. We get into one of the sensitive zones -- mythology, women, nationalism, pre-Christian religion -- and they express fervent belief in pagan survivals to modern times/the existence of Arthur or similar figure/feisty equal 'Celtic' women/the utter and single-minded evilness of Christianity in its effect/or similar. And I say something on the lines of, 'well, it's not that simple' and go on to explain why and give examples. At this point, things can go one of two ways. They may say, 'Oh, I didn't know that. What about X?' and we have an interesting and pleasant discussion. Or they say something like 'No, that's wrong. I know it's wrong because I've read books by experts/my spirit guide told me/you're not a real Celt and can't know/my coven has traditions leading back to the Bronze Age/I'm a scientist and I'm cleverer than you.'1 And we go on to have that conversation, in which I am lectured about my failings, my ignorance, my stupidity, the invalidity of my 25+ years of study and so on and on. Because the person I'm talking to does not, in fact, what to discuss the subject at hand. They want to hang on to their beliefs and they find me in some way threatening.
I understand why, I really do. I hate to have my favourite ideas threatened, too. But at the same I am tired of dealing with the situation, I'm tired of the hostility and, yes, I'm somewhat tired of the disrespect. Because, you know, I've read the 'famous' experts plus a whole lot of others who are more recent and more rigorous, I've read the source materials (in the original), I've thought about the arguments and problems and issues and debated with them with my academic peers, and I know what I'm talking about. I realise that this sounds arrogant: it probably is arrogant. That's one of the reasons I hate having that conversation. It pushes my buttons as well as, frankly, wasting everyone's time. It serves no purpose. It's boring. And I don't handle it very well. In an ideal world, I'd never have it again.
It would be lovely to arrange that. My normal strategy is to walk away as fast as possible, though that can't always be arranged. I need to find a way to say this without being arrogant. A lot of me wants to say this in my public space -- on my website -- because I really really don't want any more reprises of that conversation ever again. I know that's futile. I am certain sure that a woman who had that conversation for the umpty-umpth time at Eastercon and did not handle it well, and stamped her metaphorical feet and grumped about it is neither a good public face for academics nor worthy of any other things that might have happened at said convention.
I need a better strategy -- any suggestions welcome.
1 Yes, someone really did once use that line with me.