I’ve spent a lot of my life being taught to act civil.
‘Don’t talk back’. ‘Don’t ask questions’. ‘Don’t push the status quo’. I’ve been taught to go through life with a straight back, a smile on my face, and a gracefulness that appeases the world.
The Cambridge Dictionary defines civil as being polite and formal. And that’s how I acted for a long time, or at least until I reached 15 years old.
When I started high school, I began to gain an idea of who I wanted to be and how I wanted the world to look. I dreamt of equality for women and Latinos.
I imagined a world where I could embrace the intersectionality that made me who I am without shame or uncertainty about my safety — but with this revelation came questions about my character.
When I stopped striving to act “civil” I was suddenly deemed rebellious, or, god forbid, a feminist.
My curly hair became too big, my skirts too short, and I argued so much my mom told me I should’ve gone to school to be a lawyer instead of a journalist.
I hated being told to act civil, and I didn’t understand why until I gained an interest in learning about my ancestors. I wanted to know more about my roots and who made up the diverse DNA of my people.
Through research, I found stories of beautiful, meaningful traditions and art pieces that have survived the strength of time, but with these wonderful discoveries came a gut-wrenching heartbreak. Tales of sickness, battles, and slavery overshadowed much of the empowering information I had just learned about.
There’s something horrific about realizing my Black ancestors were the first to experience the transatlantic slave trade and my indigenous ancestors, the Tainos, were the first to meet Christopher Columbus in 1492. Imagining the confusion, the hurt, and the betrayal makes me feel sick.
It wasn’t difficult to understand that the reason I hated the word civil was because the definition that is forced on the world is rooted in colonization and white supremacy.
According to an Oxford study, the standard of civilization was a legal mechanism designed to set the benchmark for non-European states during the colonial period.
However, when many non-European societies failed to meet the European criteria for civilization, they were seen as inferior and were colonized.
My ancestors weren’t deemed civil enough.
Society’s view of what makes a person civil or civilized has led to the erasing of cultures and entire tribes of people. Today, when we ask people to act civil, based on societal standards, we’re asking them to dim their light. To dim their hopes, dreams, and aspirations because they make people uncomfortable. Asking someone to act civil is asking them to stop fighting for the things they believe in.
If this issue has taught me anything, it’s that it’s time we redefine what it means to be civil.
My favorite definition of the word was written in a blog post on Medium by Robin Cangie. Robin wrote, “To be civil is, fundamentally, to care. To care for one’s community and the dignity and flourishing of each individual within it, even when doing so is difficult and uncomfortable.”
To me, civility means respecting those around you enough to listen when they’re speaking and to consider their experiences and emotions. Being civil doesn’t mean you glorify one group of people more than another. It means you care about the well-being of all and accept them for who they are and the struggles they’ve endured. Civil is not something you are. It’s something you do.
This issue is our way of showing civility for the Muncie community.
