Generally, I avoid the news. I know that’s not ever the politically correct thing for an intelligent woman to say, but it’s true. I hate watching the news. It’s always some sensationalized, pre-packaged nonsense story telling me that I need to be afraid of something. Reinforcing horrendous stereotypes. Amanda, you need to buy more hand sanitizer. Amanda, here’s the newest way to lose that pesky beer gut of yours. Amanda, they’ve recalled peanut butter. And so on and so forth until I’m either disgusted into a state of complacency or so aggravated that I have a hard time remaining compassionate towards other people. The news is bad for my health and, I might suggest, everyone else’s.
I live in the same world as everyone else does, though. In an apartment, even, rather than under a proverbial rock, and much to my dismay, some news items sneak through and make it under the layer of sand where I sometimes bury my head. Recently, two news items have struck me, not only because of their horrific nature, but also because of their undeniable interconnection.
First, there is the Penn State coach who is accused of sexually abusing children and those who sought to protect him from scrutiny. For days, I saw all over the internet how everyone felt so sorry for one coach when he lost his job for failing to report these instances of abuse. A good friend of mine who also happens to be a social worker brought up a good point regarding this story. She commented that she is tired of hearing how sorry everyone feels for the perpetrators of these grievous abuses and would like to hear someone speaking up for the children in the situation. I couldn’t have agreed more.
Second, there are the two (well, one current and one former) middle school special ed. teachers in Washington Court House, Ohio who were caught on tape both verbally and physically abusing a special needs teenager over a period of four days. According to various news stories, the parents of this fourteen year old had complained to the principal of the school, who barely seemed to do more than blatantly ignore them and then to the superintendent of the school system in question, who indicated that their accusations were bordering on harassment and suggested that their daughter was lying about these experiences. The girl’s parents had to hide a tape recorder in their daughter’s clothing and only when they caught the women in question on tape did the school system take any action. They terminated one of the teachers. The other, so far, has only been required to take a course on preventing bullying.
Anybody else feel sick yet? I sure do. I feel sick to know that even in a supposedly enlightened world, those with power are not only bullying, but also attempting to dismantle and destroy those without it. It’s happening with people. It’s happening with institutions (much as it always has). To make matters worse, it seems like more and more of us are trying to excuse some of it. In the case of the football coach, some people seemed to be more upset that the football team was losing its coach than they were that innocent children were being abused. In the case of the two abusive teachers, while the school system fired one of them, they thought that an eight hour long course on preventing bullying was adequate penance for having contributed to and having allowed the verbal and physical abuse of a child. These two instances are really discouraging. Are we really at a point as a human race that those who are charged with protecting end up being those against whom the powerless require protection? And what in the world are we supposed to do to try to heal?
I sat on my fiancé’s couch seething about this recently as he attempted to dismantle a desk and shelf that I think take up too much space in the room. He asked me to move in a few months ago, proposed about a month ago and we have recently begun the process of “merging our stuff.” The desk has been a point of contention between us. He picked out and bought it, along with a few other pieces and while I do find them attractive, I also find them bulky, so for several months, we have been discussing how to make “his space” into a livable “our space.” Part of this ended up meaning that the bulky furniture goes.
As he took apart furniture, I yelled in his direction about the news. “What is wrong with people?” I shrieked as he tried to find a suitable tool to remove stripped screws from metal fixtures.
“Seriously! How can we even call ourselves human beings when we are doing things like this to one another? I feel like there’s no hope for any of us!”
He sneezed at three years of dust under the desk as he started pulling it apart and it occurred to me that he wasn’t listening to me at all. I turned my fury on him and as he dumped a bag of screws and screw accouterments all over the living room floor and as the cat delighted in dancing around in the carnage, I realized something: this is how we should be treating one another. Suddenly, my anger dissolved into a bewildered love for my fellow humans.
Rather than using our power against each other so that we can feel less helpless in a chaotic world, we should all be doing what we can to make each other’s lives better. More comfortable. More compassion-based and less fear based. While I was lamenting the state of humankind and declaring us all one, giant lost cause, my partner in crime was unknowingly showing me hope in an act of kindness – in his willingness to inconvenience himself and dismantle his routine and his life so that I could be more comfortable. So that I could feel at home.
It is very easy, when confronted with the scope of our potential for evil, to give up on ourselves. To give up on the idea that we can be good to each other and for each other. There is no way to eradicate huge epidemic problems such as abuse or bullying. There is no sweeping statement or act that can prevent terrible things from happening in the world. All we have is control over our own actions. Mostly, what we have are small acts of kindness.
What we have is an immense power to do good, one small act at a time, every time we are able, as many times as we are able, as often, as much, etcetera. Sometimes it takes something as inane as the dismantling of a desk to remind me of the good in people. This holiday season, act in the interest of compassion, in the interest of kindness and in the interest of love, one act at a time.
