Naïvety and Idealism
Christina
Naïvety and idealism. Idealism and naïvety. The words roll off my tongue because surely, my life has had its fair share of both.
While the two words are seemingly synonymous at first glance, there is a subtle difference in connotation that vastly distinguishes these two deceptively analogous terms. Naïvety suggests gullibility while idealism expresses innocent, uncompromising hope.
To be idealistic is bliss and to be naïve is condescending.
My idealism clearly manifests itself in the way I perceive love, a tender, reciprocated affection that lasts forever. And more than anything, I love my family.
Born and raised in America, thousands of miles away from my relatives in China, I’m not familiar with the company and proximity of a large family. Rather, I am familiar with the close, intimate bonds between my mom, my dad, and my younger sister. You could say that we’re a nuclear family: the type you admire on television, the type that you wish you had.
On the other hand, I’m naïve. I’m easily deceived and I trust too easily. If my life was a novel, it would most definitely be a bildungsroman, or coming-of-age, novel, as I’m still recovering from and maturing with every blunder I make. Blunders, like befriending people that use me for my knowledge to get good grades or associating myself with people that take advantage of my giving nature, tarnish my past. And although I typically avoid clichés, I find that this one is quite appropriate for the circumstances and holds some valuable truth: the past does not define my future. My blunders surely will not jeopardize my future, my goals, my vision, right?
Now, don’t get me wrong: idealism has its price to pay as well. I mean, just look at some of the presidents. George Washington was idealistic. In his presidential farewell address, he suggested that Americans were wise enough not to experience sectionalism and separation into political factions. Then came the the political party system, representing opposite ends of the societal spectrum: poor or rich, white or minority, liberal or conservative. Or look at Woodrow Wilson. He was also too optimistic and idealistic. To him, World War I was supposed to be the “war that ended all wars” and look where that led him: his own death in Colorado, and not to mention, World War II following shortly after his passing.
So, some final food thought: will I too suffer from the disillusionment when my own reality fails to exceed my expectations? And is cynicism the inevitable product of my innocent perception of the world?
I surely hope not.
Naïvety and idealism. Idealism and naïvety. The words roll off my tongue because surely, my life has had its fair share of both.
While the two words are seemingly synonymous at first glance, there is a subtle difference in connotation that vastly distinguishes these two deceptively analogous terms. Naïvety suggests gullibility while idealism expresses innocent, uncompromising hope.
To be idealistic is bliss and to be naïve is condescending.
My idealism clearly manifests itself in the way I perceive love, a tender, reciprocated affection that lasts forever. And more than anything, I love my family.
Born and raised in America, thousands of miles away from my relatives in China, I’m not familiar with the company and proximity of a large family. Rather, I am familiar with the close, intimate bonds between my mom, my dad, and my younger sister. You could say that we’re a nuclear family: the type you admire on television, the type that you wish you had.
On the other hand, I’m naïve. I’m easily deceived and I trust too easily. If my life was a novel, it would most definitely be a bildungsroman, or coming-of-age, novel, as I’m still recovering from and maturing with every blunder I make. Blunders, like befriending people that use me for my knowledge to get good grades or associating myself with people that take advantage of my giving nature, tarnish my past. And although I typically avoid clichés, I find that this one is quite appropriate for the circumstances and holds some valuable truth: the past does not define my future. My blunders surely will not jeopardize my future, my goals, my vision, right?
Now, don’t get me wrong: idealism has its price to pay as well. I mean, just look at some of the presidents. George Washington was idealistic. In his presidential farewell address, he suggested that Americans were wise enough not to experience sectionalism and separation into political factions. Then came the the political party system, representing opposite ends of the societal spectrum: poor or rich, white or minority, liberal or conservative. Or look at Woodrow Wilson. He was also too optimistic and idealistic. To him, World War I was supposed to be the “war that ended all wars” and look where that led him: his own death in Colorado, and not to mention, World War II following shortly after his passing.
So, some final food thought: will I too suffer from the disillusionment when my own reality fails to exceed my expectations? And is cynicism the inevitable product of my innocent perception of the world?
I surely hope not.
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