North Star Writers Group

A very good friend of mine just got dumped. Now, I’ve been a dumper and a dumpee for a lot of silly reasons myself. I had to cut ties with one guy who reminded me too much of Fred Flintstone. Another broke up with me because I wasn’t in a sorority.

I guess when it’s not right, it just isn’t, and you’ll find a reason – no matter how little merit it may have – to end it.

But this time, I had to take a little offense myself. You see, my friend got dumped because during a dinner conversation with her boyfriend’s parents, she chose to remain silent. From there, it spiraled. He assumed that she had no knowledge of the subject at hand; that his parents would think she wasn’t schooled in current events; and that their future wouldn’t include enough intelligent conversations to keep him interested.

Ever heard the saying that silence is golden? Apparently, he hadn’t.

Not surprisingly, my friend and I are a lot alike. We don’t have our opinions stuck to our cars on bumper stickers. The décor in our offices wouldn’t give you a clue as to our voting preferences. We don’t wear our hearts on our sleeves because, frankly, they’re needed inside our bodies to keep everything functioning smoothly. Including some of our relationships! Like those with boyfriends’ parents, supervisors, coworkers and a host of other people who we need to have positive relationships with in order to have - well, order.

Here’s the thing. My opinions come neatly wrapped in 4’10” Caucasian brunette package. But inside, the package is more complicated. If I let you inside too soon, that might just be the end of what could be a great friendship. I simply have to get to know you first.

What’s wrong with that?

In my friend’s case, the dinner subject on that particular night happened to be the war in Iraq. A war in which her boyfriend, and his parents, knew not one person that had fought or died in. For that matter, they knew no one in the military save for a few distant friends of friends.

On the other hand, we grew up in a town where military service after high school is the norm for most of the young men, and several of the women. We’ve seen them injured. Attended their funerals. Greeted them back home as different people, sometimes shells of their former selves, but always stronger.

I’m no Michael Moore, and I’m not going to stick a microphone in any Congressman’s face to ask him why his son isn’t serving in Iraq. If the world were full of people who expressed their opinions like Moore did, we’d always be a people at war.

Instead, there are those of us who find that silence brings peace. And that’s not such a bad thing. In the world, nor in some relationships.

Now, I’m not advocating that the ability to express oneself isn’t one of the greatest freedoms afforded to Americans. It most certainly is. But can you imagine that conversation around the dinner table had she spoken up? It would have been just like a grenade thrown into a crowded street. At first, stun. Then, residual fighting. People left hurt.

Would it have been worth it?

Apparently, her ex-boyfriend thinks so.

Me? I would argue that sometimes, remaining silent around people who are clueless about what they speak of is a much greater art than debating with them. Other times, it’s more simple. It’s nothing more than a sign that I don’t know you well enough to trust you with what’s inside my head.

Either way, believing that silence is a measure of one’s intelligence or connectedness to the world is, in and of itself, stupid.

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This is Column # CD25. Request permission to publish here.