A Change in Perspective

“Why can’t a woman change her mind?”  Her voice was shrill and grainy, and her brown eyes darted over my appearance as though somehow my clothes or the way I held myself would give her the ammunition she was looking for.  I could only stare at her incredulous, as it had been my question only moments before, and I couldn’t think of any reason why she would feel the need to repeat it. 

What was this woman getting at?  Was her line of thinking that women can’t change their minds?  Or that they shouldn’t change their minds?  Could it be the fact that I had the gall to broach the subject at all?  Again I found her searching my face for signs of weakness, as though there she would find some crack in the outer façade and she could pick her way into my inner core being, and once she had, she would then find that it was all some sort of joke. 

“So then am I to assume you don’t think women should be able to change their minds?”  I asked her trying to get a sliver of clarification.  I thought it better to get it all out into the open lest my confusion fester into something I didn’t recognize.  I wondered if the others in the room felt the same way.  I looked at her for a response but she only began to redden further and sat down in her seat again leaving me the only one to be standing before all thirty students of the class.  All eyes awaited my next move, and I for the life of me, had no idea how this whole confrontation had begun in the first place. 

I knew lots of women who changed their minds, hell I knew many men who did the same.  Some did so in mid-stride of a conversation, others thought it wise to win an argument, but most did so because another point of view had opened a new perspective before them.  People who changed their minds had open minds.  It was those with closed and stubborn minds that didn’t wasn’t it?  In all my days of dealing with all sorts of people with different world views I had never known anyone who took such offense at questioning a previous decision.  It was as thought she was taking it personally.

“You look surprised.”  The professor said to me.  I looked about the room and again realized that all in presence were watching me as I continued to stand before them in my contemplation stupor.

“I am.” I said quietly both heady and flushed, “I don’t understand why my question upset her.”  I sat down while she continued to glare at me form her side of the room. 

“If you don’t have the strength to stand behind your convictions you shouldn’t have made them in the first place.”  She spat over desks and students alike.

“You say I have no back-bone, but what strength or wisdom is there in standing up for something you no longer believe in?  What if it was the previous decision or belief that was misguided?  Would you still hang onto it just because it was your conviction?”  My voice grew in strength, and I could feel my temperature rise.  “Would you fight for something just because someone else has taught you that it is correct?  Would you not want to find out the truth for yourself?”  This woman was infuriating.  I didn’t like arguing with her, let alone in front of a crowd of my peers, but something in me wouldn’t let it go.  Couldn’t let it go.  Didn’t she realize that a change of heart or mind was a freedom that everyone should be afforded?  We took such liberties for granted.  Many people in countries stifled, had and still fight for such freedoms, especially the women of those countries.   

I shook my head, I could see no way of dealing with such a closed mind.  It was as though she wore a brick wall around her and didn’t care who saw it.  She was sticking her chin over the top of it daring us all to try our hand at toppling it over.

“You are the type of woman that gives all others a bad name.”  She said with venom, “With your bottle blonde locks and your indecision, swaying this way and that as the wind takes you.  How is anyone to respect what you stand for?  Men think us weak, easy to push over and easy to lay when they see your inaction.  You appear to be a valueless husk.”

“All this because I asked the question why a woman couldn’t change her mind?  Are you for real?  Your past hurt and heartache is leaking through the mortar in your brick wall, and if that chip on your shoulder were to grow any larger you would certainly buckle under the sheer weight of its shadow.  So don’t tell me you are some expert on men and the way they see the world.”  I was shaking in my fury at her personal attack; the adrenaline had left my legs stump-like and heavy.  I sat down again before I fell to my chair.

“Okay, that is enough debate for today.” The professor smiled as he gained control of the class, “although it has been sometime that my topic of freedom of expression has enticed such a passionate response.  I look forwards to what will happen in our next class.”  There was nervous laughter from the students, the kind given when one is unsure of the correct way to respond. 

The bell rang and was met with the sound of chairs scraping over floors.  I was slow in getting to my feet, lost in my thoughts as I digested what had happened.  Trying to discern why it had happened.

Then for some reason, it all changed.  My thoughts were filled with brittle tree branches breaking in a strong wind, and the knowledge that no matter how hard the wind blows, the grasses only dip and dance with its firm caress.  I thought of rock, and how it gets carved and ground down by waters patient persistence. 

In that moment I understood that to get to these minds that seem to be sealed shut I too would have to adapt a gentle nature.  A perseverance that over time would lead to a deeper understanding of human nature.  With this realization, I was never more grateful for a sound mind with the freedom to change it if I so chose.

Reviews

[cartera]

A lot of anger getting a showing here, I think.
You should write more prose, as you write very well. You do not over qualify and your word choices are always spot on.
I'm not too sure how your teacher got into the profession, but I am glad that I missed her. I thought the jump to inner reflection: 'Then for some reason . . . ' wasa bit rabbit-out-of-the-hat but the philosophical discourse thast followed was logical. If a bit utopian.
... . .
Hope you're doing well.
ATB
Alex.

[TheFallenAngel]

I like this story quite a bit. The premise of it is strongly rooted in the age old discussion of freedom of thought and the logical reasoning behind that thought. I liked the nature's quality of perseverance used as a metaphor in the conclusion of the story since that seems to be the only solution.
Other than a typo here and there, your words are structured well and have a steady flow. I enjoyed reading it.

[Warrior]

Great story telling. This did justice in the realm of getting the message across. Great message. There's lot of times where a story can have a great message to aim for, and have a lot of under lining things but then no one gets it, and if no one gets it, then the point has failed. But in my opinion this did well to get the message across. You made it clear, which is why I think it's good. Keep up the good work. What was also great was that I could imagine the story as I read it, and that is also a strong point of stories. The ability to have the reader imagine it because after all we're reading not watching it, but it was as if I was there as I read this, and that is great. Great visuals and great story telling. It had plot and substance. When you add substance to writing it gets that much better. It gets the reader hooked on it and make them feel as if they are part of it. As long as their is that emotional connection between the reader and the story then it's good. The connection you were able to established in the writing gives the reader a sense of comfortably that they are in tune with the writing. So that way when the writing is over, the reader wants more, and wishes it didn't end. I feel the same way when I watched a movie or tv series that I get so attached to, I never want it to end. And for this writing, I didn't want it to end. You had me hooked, and I am sure everyone else who read it was hooked as well. That is good, that is what you want for people to keep wanting more. The way you put the story together makes me feel like my life is different for that moment in which I read your story. I love it, and it was beautiful. Just keep posting stories like this, and you'll have a good following.

[Chris]

"It was as thought she was taking it personally." - thought?

Defining a mind-forming moment in a person's life is difficult but worthwhile. This read well for the most part.

[Phil]

Stumbled upon this story while looking in the archives of the site. You portrayed the anger of the character wonderfully. This was very well written.

[GypsyAlien3303]

This is very well written. Your description of her brick wall made me giggle:) I find it very difficult when dealing with people that are not open to others opinions or ideas, it is infuriating, and I felt the frustration along with the character. I thought this was great:)

[Eagle Cruagh]

The subject of mind changing has always been
disturbing. One should be able and willing to
change their mind whenever they begin to believe
differently from their old convictions.
On the other hand if we are willing to see the point
of view of an adversary the battle will be lost.
And we do battle, all of us. Is it really a weakness to
constantly change our minds. When should we stick
to our principles, our ideals, our ideas of self ????
----- Eagle Cruagh

[Art]

even the mind is ever changing, why else do we ask, to stand up for a decision or change is to have strength...nice work...

[emmajoy]

People jokingly say it's a woman's will to change her mind as often as she changes her panties, but, in fact, it's because a woman has the imagination and heart - in no particular order, to look into ideas and perceive each one with her brain. Your woman and her eventual goal posts really has a power that hides itself more often or not -- the power to bend with the wind yet move to her own tune.

' With this realization, I was never more grateful for a sound mind with the freedom to change it if I so chose. '

[Ed Hart]

the free and freeing mind, the reflector, the calm free vision that speaks from the heart, ah