vampireapologist:

The idea of common sense really does create a harsh world, where having had the opportunity to learn something is a point of superiority, and having been denied or just plain never given the opportunity is seen as a point of personal failure.

In a world where the idea of “common sense” rules, things seem fair at first. He got mugged there, when everyone knows that’s a dangerous street after dark. She got in a car accident, when everyone knows you have to start slowing down sooner in the snow.

But who is “everyone?” Not them, apparently. Obviously. They didn’t know. And now they’re hurt, or worse. He wasn’t from there. She was from somewhere it didn’t snow. Why didn’t anyone tell them?

We feel safe knowing that the only people who suffer are the people who just “don’t have common sense,” the people who are apparently just plain stupid, because we’re terrified of the truth, which is: bad things can happen to anyone at all, to good people, to you, and they’re more likely to happen to those who didn’t have the right knowledge for the situation, the “common sense” they needed to stay safe.

And this idea of “common sense” targets marginalized groups more than anyone, people who have been continually denied opportunities to learn, or people whose disabilities create hurdles. But anyone can be victim to this groupthink.

How many times have I met someone with apparently “no common sense,” who was raised in an abusive or neglectful household, who has had a developmental disability, or who simply and fairly just hasn’t been in this sort of situation before?

We think of common sense as the most base level of knowledge, as something “everyone,” should know. But I hold firmly that everything, everyone knows, has either been learned, or taught.

A cactus is sharp, obviously don’t touch one. How do I know? I grabbed one in my mom’s garden as a toddler, and we had to remove the needles for hours. Wouldn’t it have been better for me, and for everyone involved, if an adult–before letting me loose in the garden that they knew had sharp plants–had told me “don’t touch that cactus, it will hurt you.” It would have cost them nothing. And sure, maybe I would have anyway, that’s human, to be told and to still have to learn yourself from time to time.

But the point is, nobody blamed me. Nobody looked at me, a child, and thought “what an idiot, everyone knows cacti are full of needles.”

Because I was a child, and they gave me the benefit of the doubt that I hadn’t had the chance to learn yet. And they wished they’d told me instead of letting me get hurt.

So let’s start looking at everyone–not as children–but as beings who just maybe haven’t encountered this yet, haven’t gotten the chance to know yet, or who have been denied it.

Let’s stop labeling people as stupid or not based on what we assume they should already know.

Let’s start teaching each other, when we can, if we can without hurting ourselves.

And we’ll genuinely, truly, make the world a better, safer, more gentle place.