Students play by the rules

With this week’s LGBQTA events and a day for bravely standing up to be oneself all across the nation, I am oddly reminded of an event I attended on campus last year.
I sat in a room with a dozen people I did not know wondering, “What in the world is BARNGA?” I knew that I was there to play a game that was meant to teach me something related to intercultural communication, but when a professor gave each table a deck of cards and a rules sheet that described what seemed like no more than a simple card game, I barely saw how any lesson could lie within. The rules were put away and we began to play with one additional rule: after the first round, there would be no speaking.
The first round ended, players switched tables and now the room was silent. As soon as the second round began, an unfamiliar face at the table took a trick that I clearly knew belonged to me. I wondered if she was intentionally cheating, but unwilling to rock the boat, I ignored the last hand and continued to play. I took a trick that belonged to me. The unfamiliar face motioned to me that she wanted to see the last trick. I flipped it over and pointed at the Ace that I used to win the trick. She shook her head, motioned to express that aces were low, and took the trick. I had read the rules thoroughly and knew that she was wrong, aces were high.
Even though I felt I was correct about the rules, I checked with the next table before the round began, drawing symbols to ask if ace was high. They assured me that the unfamiliar face was right; aces were low. Playing aces low, I lost my confidence but the feeling that I was right still gnawed at the back of my brain. Nevertheless, there seemed to be a general understanding that we could all agree on and I figured as long as we all played by the same rules, it did not matter all that much.
Soon the last round ended and the professor explained the game: each table had received a different set of rules. Suddenly the lesson clicked. In life, as we meet and work with different people from all paths and cultures, we will find that each player is playing with a different set of rules. I quickly began pondering what my game-playing attitude had said about me. I could quickly equate my unwillingness to consider that I could be wrong to American values that believe our culture, or “set of rules” is superior to all others, or quite simply, that we are right and everyone else is wrong.
As bothered as I was by my own narcissism, I was now walking to my car and evaluating my own personality. Then I realized that the thing I was currently lamenting is in fact one of my favorite traits about myself: that I passionately stand up for my beliefs. If I did not feel passionately about my own set of life rules, it would be pointless for me to follow them. However, the importance lies in how we approach others who do not follow the same rules, knowing which rules really “matter,” and being able to critically evaluate our own rules.
I was sure that my rules said aces were high, but I went along with the rest of the group since it really made no difference. In fact, if I had continued to play by my rules while everyone else played by theirs, disadvantaged, I would have lost sorely. In this case, the most advantageous thing for the group was for me to adjust to their rules. In society I often find that when I am the one whose rule differs from the norm, it is most advantageous for me to adjust.
However, in some situations I would stand up for my personal belief no matter the effects on my ability to play the game. For instance, in a group of people who believe gay people do not deserve rights, I would fight for my belief in equality to the end. Of course, this means being truly grounded in my beliefs. I was raised in a rural farm county where the majority of the population believed that being gay is wrong, even a sin, and that those people do not deserve the rights shared by others. I could have easily adopted this rule into my own life, but first I examined it thoroughly. Upon examination, I realized what the rule taught me did not stand in line with my personal convictions, or even the other values I was taught, like loving thy neighbor or withholding judgment. In the end, I have a conviction worth believing in, one that really matters to the point of standing up for.
Unfortunately, like BARNGA demonstrates, when we play by different rules, especially when they are the convictions of the minority, we are often disadvantaged. However, that does not mean that we cannot still win, because after all, some things are worth fighting for.
Joy Wilson is a fourth-year student majoring in communications with a minor in studio art. She can be reached at JW794401@wcupa.edu.