Y’all seem to think that ‘Respect’ing other human beings means simply being nice to them, accepting their views, and excusing their actions. But…?
Respecting a person as a PERSON means that you’re acknowledging that they exist. That’s it. Speaking about them, as if they are real. That’s what it means to respect a person as a person. You can disagree and downright condemn a person’s beliefs while still acknowledging that they are a person. Because we, as people, are perfectly capable of doing terrible things and still being people. We’re capable of bad, just like we’re capable of good. The point of respecting a person as a PERSON is not accepting their views. It is not sympathizing with them. It is not giving them the benefit of the doubt. And it is not allowing them to continue to hurt you or your people without consequence. It is not excusing them. It is not surrender.
Respecting a person is realizing that they are still a person saying these terrible things. Not excusing, forgiving, approving, or supporting these terrible things and ideas, but knowing that it was a human itself behind these actions. A person is not suddenly subhuman just because they have terrible ideologies. They’re still a person. Because people do and can have terrible, unforgivable beliefs. And do do unthinkable things. But respecting them as a person is not forgetting that they’re a human. You’re not fighting a monster (Though, a monster in this context would of course be the harmful ideals spread, and the stigma that it both caused and was generated from. Etc.) But you’re fighting another human being.
Now, this by no means should ever weaken your resolve to fight and rise against ideas, campaigns, people that seek to degrade you and oppress you and make “jokes” (can you tell that I literally do not support Felix worth a damn.) at the expense of your suffering. If anything, I feel as if viewing them as a person (read: not forgiving or excusing them. But acknowledging that they are a person.) can only strengthen your fight. The second you fight as if you’re fighting a human being, is the moment that people around you begin to understand why you’re fighting and gain the will to fight themselves. Because they’re humans too.
People on this site are so quick to completely forget the humanity of the other people on this site over something as remedial as shipping Peridot with Lapis over Amethyst. Do not weaken your own arguments, your own voices, and your own points by dropping your voice as if it were to regard and speak to subhumans.
Do not let the forces you fight drop your battle from your own hands. You hold it firmly, back straight, and presented at the human being that pushed you, and didn’t expect you to push back. Make them realize that they are not subhuman. Let them know that you, as a human being, are speaking to them, as a human being, on a battle field that they do not want to to be leveled and fair. Let them know that they are not subhuman, even if their beliefs are garbage. Let them know, they’re not lesser as people.
But as a human being, their actions are unacceptable. And inhuman. Allow them the privilege to feel ashamed. Do not give them the idea that, as a ‘subhuman’, these actions are expected and allowed of them. Let them know that it’s wrong. Let them know.
And that you, as a human being, will not stand for it.
Don’t excuse them. But see them for what they are.
Keep your vision clear, and your voice true. Know that you do not owe them kindness. But know the force that opposes you.
Know them in a way that, in some cases, they will refuse to know you.
“Hey Mom?” “What is it, Cressie?” “You know that thing… what is it called? Mewberty, isn’t it?” “Yes, what about it?” “Well… since I’m half human, will it ever happen to me?” “I don’t think it’ll happen to you, Cressie. Mewberty is… a weird process. I don’t want you to go through that.”
“Star? Why are there blue triangles all over the floor?” “Oh–oh… oh no.”
Sir Terry Pratchett awakens. A skeleton stands at his bedside, wearing a long black robe. He sits up. “Well, hang on, let me get my hat,” he tells it.
The skeleton reaches into its robe. From abyssal depths it produces a heavy book bound in sheets of lead and night. It is the kind of book that gets stolen by a rugged adventurer from a temple with more spike-traps than the average house of worship contains. It is the kind of book to which the word “tome” might properly be applied. Frost forms on its pages from the lingering chill of the void.
The skeleton coughs once and holds the book out to the man sitting on the bed.
“What the fuck?!” Potter threw up his hands and then promptly jammed them in his hair. He stopped his pacing and stared at the archway where a door had been about… -Draco idly cast a tempus- an hour ago. Apparently, Potter had been driven to distraction simply by the idea of sharing a space with him and was flirting with a level of mania that made Draco quite uncomfortable.
Draco laced his hands together in his lap, uncrossing his legs and recrossing them the other way. He was expecting Potter to start throwing spells again if he kept to the pattern he had established so far. Hopefully, he would cast something that would rebound and turn him into something quiet, like a rabbit.
Potter spun toward him though, “Why aren’t you upset!” he snapped.
Draco raised an eyebrow, “It seems to me you’re doing a good enough job for the both of us.”