There are some memories that stay with you always. Some are tiny fragments, like a spliced together reel of happy moments from the past, while other wonderful times you never want to forget are crystal clear. But sometimes you remember something because of regret. It’s like the ugliness of the moment can’t help but stick to the stubborn banks of your memory. You can’t forget because you know you were wrong, and you’re ashamed.
It was ones of those “not so pretty,” past moments that filtered to the tip of my brain the other day while puttering around on social media. I witnessed the blatantly cruel words of another person directed at a stranger, and in my disgust I remembered a playground thirty years ago.
I was always an unusual child in my own admission, and it didn’t help matters much that I was an only child in my younger years, or that I was much too frequently the “new kid.”
Indeed, by the time I started second grade I had been enrolled in five different schools, and that’s a lot of change for a seven year old.
It probably didn’t help my case that I had an abnormally short haircut for a girl at the beginning of the school year, and although I imagined myself as a blond Pat Benatar, I look back now and cringe. Bless it.
I was the new kid, and had always been the new kid. I was mentally prepared to be an outcast in my new school. But then something unexpected occurred.
You see, there already was a misfit. There was a young girl who everyone was picking on when we went outside to play. Her clothes must have not been that nice, and even though I can’t recall what she was wearing exactly, I do recall the other children laughing and calling her names. They pointed at her clothes and her hair. They hurled childlike, playground insults. And then they pulled out the big guns. They determined she had the “cooties!”
All the children began to run away faking fear, and calling out, “run, before you catch her cooties!”
I saw my chance, and I took it. I ran away too, but that wasn’t all. Being a medical professional at heart even then I developed a vaccine. I got a pen and made a mark on my inner wrist, and then I showed my handiwork to the others. I proudly administered injections of ink to all the children to help prevent acquiring cooties, and I was surprised to discover the misfit girl at the end of my vaccine line.
She wanted a shot too, and as she stepped forward I made a decision. I said, “Get away! This won’t work on you!” Then I screamed dramatically, and ran away, the other children following suit.
I mulled over my past transgressions as I sat stunned over present words being flung haphazardly on my Facebook newsfeed. And I wondered why we do that. Why do we say the things we do about people we don’t even know?
Then I thought of my husband. I just love that man. He has faults like anyone, but I can honestly say that everyday he manages to make me a better person. His kind heart and gentle spirit cause me to see things in a different light. I’ll give you an example. It’s the one that came to mind while memories of an elementary school play-yard drifted into the recesses on my regrets.
A few years ago I was introduced to the infamous “People of Walmart.” You know, the hilarious compilations of unflattering photos of real-life people shopping the store in pajamas and too-tight, tube tops.
I was laughing my head off and decided to share the joke with my spouse. He cracked a small smile, but then he surprised me. Often times his words from that day still pop into my head.
As he looked at the pictures he said, “Those are real people they’re making fun of. What’s so funny about that? Making fun of people?”
So while his comments may seem kind of overboard, his point was spot-on. Since when is it funny to laugh at someone who’s not trying to amuse you?
Why is it entertaining to make fun of people who dress different, talk different, or are just plain different? I wonder how I would feel if on my worst possible day someone grabbed a picture of me and flashed it across the internet? I’d be a virtual, viral laughing stock. Ouch.
People of Walmart aside, we still do this. We do it to people walking by us at the restaurant. “Do you see what she’s wearing?! OMG!”
We do this on the internet and on social media. We cowardly insult someone we think we will never have to face in person, or someone we think will never see our hurtful words.
Maybe you do this about me, and while what people think doesn’t make or break me, I’ll be honest and admit it hurts.
So why do we do it? Because they don’t talk like we do, or dress like we do? Maybe they aren’t as intelligent, or as financially stable. Maybe they were raised in a different socio-economical background. Shoot, maybe they’re just asking for it.
I see things people say, and I wonder if they would say the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot. What if that was your sister, or your brother, or your child? Would “Momma Bear” let someone hurl such an insensitive insult at their seemingly perfect child? Likely not.
Back at the playground, when I was seven I acted like I did to make myself look better. It’s awful, but honestly I was tired of being the outcast. I saw the opportunity to make myself feel better, and look better to others, and I took it! Thirty years later, and it’s an apology too late. I don’t even know her name, and I left schools again before I even knew if my actions had a negative impact over all. All I know is I was wrong, and if you’re reading this now, I’m sorry.
But doing this as an adult is even worse. You might be insulting others to make yourself look better much as my seven year old self did long ago, but today’s playground is different. To me you don’t look cool. You just look cruel.
And if you say you don’t insult people to elevate yourself then you just have to admit that you’re plain mean. Talking down about another person, especially to someone else is just despicable and sad.
I won’t go so far as to say you’re not a Christian if you do this. After all, I’m not God, and I know plenty of people who know Jesus but talk mean. But I will say this. If the object of your insult is searching for salvation they’ll be hard-pressed to find the key in your hastily formed words. Love leads people to Jesus, not judgement.
With that in mind perhaps we all could be a little kinder on this playground called life. We all could take a moment to think before we speak, and consider our actions before we proceed. A certain man from Nazareth 2000 years ago was also an outcast, but He certainly didn’t have cooties.
Maybe this is the kind of message that needs to spread, especially this time of year. Before you say something unkind about a stranger, or before you laugh at another’s misfortune think about my thirty year old apology. Because perhaps it’s never too late to say you’re sorry and change the way you treat others.