Why You Should Always Question Your Mother
If you’re like me, you’ve argued with your mother. Well, I’ve probably never argued with your mother. Though, I have no trouble believing that any number of you have argued with my mother. In fact, whether you realize it or not, the number of you involved in an argument with my mother at any given point is probably larger than average. Wow. This one got off the rails quickly. Let’s try that again.
If you’re like me, you’ve struggled with e-mail etiquette. Specifically, I’ve struggled with the etiquette of responding to my mother’s e-mails. There, that’s better.
I was the first child to go off to college in my family so communicating with those back home became a big deal. I like to think that I held up my end and between phone calls, e-mails, and the occasional letter, kept folks up to date. I won’t pretend like I didn’t enjoy hearing from them as well. Sometimes the highlight of my day was some word from back home in Freeport.
Sometimes, it wouldn’t be anything grand or vital, but simply a notification of weekend plans. These notes, usually from mom, would read along the lines of, “taking the dogs to the groomer this weekend." or "had dinner at Cannova’s last night.” I would usually respond with, well, I wouldn’t respond.
I should point out that I went to college 210 miles away in Decatur. The dogs’ plans for the weekend or my parents’ plans for the previous evening had no impact on my day-to-day. I wasn’t going to drive hours home to make sure the dogs got a good haircut. I was glad that my parents were enjoying themselves but I had no additional information that would change anyone’s plans. My response would have had no effect so I didn’t give one.
Of course, as my mother explained to me, (and as I’m sure many mothers reading this are shouting at the paper,) anything your mother says requires a response. I rolled my eyes but followed this advice and began responding to everything mother sent me, even if it was only a quick, “K.” Mom started doing something different too. She started ending her e-mails with questions.
See, part of my argument was that I had received a statement. One of the features of statements is that they can stand on their own and don’t require anything more. A statement can serve as the end to a conversation. A statement is definitive. Ignoring social guidelines and all of those other silly rules, as a matter of linguistics, a statement can be the end of a conversation. A question, by its very nature, requires a response.
That’s where this somewhat rambling, (and somewhat dangerous, if you know my mother,) story is heading; the value of questions. A question is engagement. A question is a bridge. A question pushes the discourse forward and allows for growth. Statements are clean and good for making points of definition. Questions are where progress is made.
Questions are complicated. Questions can lead us down roads that we’ve never thought of before. Questions can be an admission of a lack of knowledge. It can be embarrassing to ask questions. Statements are secure. We know what we’re getting into with statements. We know who the people around us are and what experiences mean because they are as they present themselves. There is no further information to be gained so we can close the book. If we question those statements, we have to continue that conversation. But, if we don’t look forward with questions, how will we ever advance?
