Why I Hate Philosophy

If we’ve never met, I completely understand why you might be offended by the title of this post. If  your blog post was titled “Why Science is Stupid”, I probably wouldn’t read it, because you clearly don’t know what you’re talking about.

That being said, as a hard science person, I can’t seem to fathom the purpose of arguing. The first day of class my professor, who I personally think is brilliant, told me that a truth is more true if it sustains the process of being battered by objections. Hmm… okay, I could do this, I thought. Isn’t science the process of seeking the truth? Then, she blows it with “there does not need to be an end point. If you’re looking for a solution, Laura, this is not the right place for you” and being the matter-of-fact person that I am, I text my advisor under the table and ask to drop the class. To my dismay, he says NO. What? He tells me this is one of the smartest professors at the College and that it is a gift for me to learn from her. Fat lot of help he was.

The class itself is an Honor’s course in the Identity of Being Disabled in America, plus there’s a service learning component where intellectually disabled adults come hang out with us. Sounds like a triple win. Service. Honors requirement. General Area of Knowledge requirement. The beauty of going to a liberal arts college is that you pay to take classes you hate. Sounds counter intuitive, but there is so much value in hating a subject. I cannot stand reading these philosophical banters that criticize everything under the sun, but then don’t offer their own solution. Yet, now I know I don’t want to be a philosopher.

On the other hand, I’ve learned valuable lessons as to the experience of the disabled in America. If by some chance I build a building, I won’t neglect the needs of a portion of the population. I feel more comfortable in my ability to communicate with people who are non verbal or have mobility issues. But deep down, this awakens the overall question of what a productive, happy life looks like to me. If by chance I were to conceive a child like the adults I work with, how would I feel about that? What would I do? While I hate splitting hairs over whether ‘disabled people’ is more offensive than ‘people with disabilities’, I am growing.

>After all, no one every learned anything in their comfort zone<

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