Ignorance in a Bushel

When I was a child I thought there was only one kind of apple. My mother had dentures and could only eat the skins of the soft, gritty, disgusting red delicious. I grew up thinking simply, "I hate apples."

And then I moved away from home.

As a young college student I stood in the grocery store and stared at the rows of bins full of apples of every shape and shade. I chose a nice round one, that was mostly yellow, except for the red pinstripe lines that cascaded down the sides.

The name "Jazz" enticed me. The crisp bite surprised me. The flavors that sang through my mouth, like a sassy Dixieland band, freed me from my delusions. It woke me from a dazed, dull reality- for I had been lied to. Apples were not meant to feel like sandpaper disintegrating in your mouth, nor were they meant to leave remnants, little grains like little bits of gravel, stuck on your gums. Apples could be juice-drippingly tart or firmly sweet.

I discovered there are 75,000 different kinds of apples. That's almost how many words are in the first Harry Potter novel. And according to a study done by The Wall Street Journal $75,000 a year is the "Perfect salary for Happiness."* My mission to taste as many of those 75,000 kinds of apples was my perfect route to happiness. Apples were, and are, amazing. I love apples!

Sometimes we think a certain way because we know nothing else. From a negative encounter with a different race we may say simply, "I don't like Mexicans." Or from a hyped news report we may exclaim, "African Americans are unlawful." Perhaps someone hurt us, degraded us, or made us feel inferior because of our sex, appearance, or age and we say simply, "all white men are the same. None of them deserve our trust." Are these opinions based on reality? Are all 75,000 of these people the same based on one possible truth?

For me, I was always free to search out my own apples and find my own truth. Yet I continued to complain about the truth that was given to me instead. I accepted the truth that stared me down in my own kitchen every day of my life and formed an opinion. I created an assumption based on what I knew to be reality.

Freedom of speech is not a trifle thing. The ability to discern and create an opinion is one of the few things that sets us apart from other species. It's a freedom that many have rallied, marched, and fought to have. But should opinion, something based on mere belief or limited experiences, be how we utilize our precious free speech?  Or should we exercise our freedom further? Should we be more careful with how we exclaim? Should we perhaps go to the grocery store ourselves and search out the other bins and farmers markets? Anyone can have an opinion. But wisdom comes from many experiences, good judgements, and understanding. These are treasures that cannot be bought for ninty-nine cents a pound. They are gained without cost or payment. Experience and understanding can be free. And with that bushel you no longer have an opinion, you have crisp, juicy, wonderful knowledge.

*https://blogs.wsj.com/wealth/2010/09/07/the-perfect-salary-for-happiness-75000-a-year/