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Tuesday, March 23, 2010

My conscience and plain ole crazy talk

D and I have, so far, made a good life for ourselves.  We both came from stable families.  We both have master's degrees.  Neither of us got messed up on drugs or alcohol.  When I'm feeling smug, I like to pat myself on the back because I have made good choices.  But then I have to be really honest and note that I did do some pretty stupid things in my earlier years, and I was just really lucky.

I am one generation removed from poverty.  Had my parents been raised in 2010 instead of the 1940s they would be like so many students I taught in the inner city:
* they had parents who would be considered unskilled or marginally skilled laborers (and therefore not well paid).
* they would qualify for free/reduced lunch (or as some people like to call it...a handout).
* they were witnesses to, if not victims of, domestic violence.
* they were raised by a single parent for all or much of the time.
* they were not well supervised because their parents were working, giving them opportunity to get into trouble (had trouble come knocking, which, in their case, it didn't).

Perhaps it is this history that makes me like the phrase, "There but for the grace of god go I."  In my parents' case, they rose above their childhood circumstances.  But many people do not, and I certainly don't believe it is because they are all a giant sack of lazy.  It takes great perseverance, support and sheer luck to break free of poverty, abuse, addiction and/or ignorance.

For all of my misanthropy and curmudgeonly charm, I believe most people are good.  Most people want to do better for themselves, and many simply don't know how because all they have seen their lives are series upon series of bad choices.

My conscience simply won't allow me (for very long) to set myself up on a porcelain pedestal as better than others.

In those moments, though, when I am on my pedestal, I do have some crazy thoughts.  Some really nasty, wouldn't say-it-publicly thoughts.  But I will say it here as a reminder of just how shitty I can be sometimes.

Like those times when I read about people abusing their children and wish that those parents had opted for abortion instead.
Like those times when I read about young girls getting pregnant and think it should be a law that anyone under 21 who becomes pregnant must give their baby up for adoption.
Like those times I think people who have multiple children by multiple partners should be forcibly sterilized.
Like those times when I hear politicians yell out inappropriate things and think they should be strung up by their johnsons in a public square.
Like those times when I read about children being killed by handguns, and I think said guns should be permanently lodged in whomever purchased said gun's asshole.
Like those times I hear people remark that they are good Christians and then proceed to denigrate blacks and Muslims, and I want to smack their holier than thou faces.

Usually at this point, I have lost my balance and come tumbling off the pedestal, back to earth, back to knowing that I operate better when I try to be honest and kind and non-judgmental.  And letting other people do the crazy talk.

1 comment:

Keri said...

I always try to remember that I could be a mother in a famine-struck land, unable to feed my children. Or in a country ravaged by civil war, where on any given night a group of thugs could come into my home and shoot me and every member of my family. Or rape us. Or kidnap my children and make them into soldiers.

Those kinds of thoughts always help to humble me and increase my sense of gratitude and contentment.

Being a teacher helped, too, as I got to see firsthand that many students are not well cared-for by their parents, and aren't taught the basics of decent behavior and character.

That's why I nearly jumped into my radio Tuesday morning when I heard a guy making fun of a new program that aims to help juvenile offenders feel compassion for their victims, in the hopes that it will prevent them from perpetrating further crimes. This guy talked like that was the most absurd idea in the world - "They know right from wrong, they just choose to do wrong and nothing's going to change them," and "They already KNOW how their crime made the victim feel - they just don't care!" I wanted to strangle him, and then, after I let him go and he was gasping for air, I would explain to him - calmly, of course - that not every juvenile has been taught right from wrong, or has ever thought about things from another person's point of view, because their lives have been about survival and taking care of themselves because their parents were deadbeats/drunks/strung out on drugs.

Okay, now it sounds like I"m coming down on THOSE people, which was kind of the point of your post. But my point is that "those people's" kids are going to make the same bad choices unless someone (teacher, mentor, justice system) steps in and teaches them how to make a better life.