A week or so ago, I had a very unpleasant encounter at work. A family came in: parents, a teenage daughter, and a son who was about ten or twelve years old. The son asked a mildly dumb question – one that I have had to answer from adults several times over the years, but dumb regardless. And then something happened that I did not expect. These parents absolutely shredded this kid. They made it quite clear that he shouldn’t talk, and he didn’t know anything, and he was very stupid; everything they could say to make sure he knew how worthless he was. It was verbal abuse, and it was vicious. And it took a very long time to stop. I just wanted them to leave, and I was so grateful when they did, but then I immediately needed to step away and vent to my coworkers.
It ruined my day, to say the least. My brain decided to respond by reminding me of every other situation I’ve encountered where an authority was evil or destructive, so my inner monologue for the whole day was just yelling at injustice. I was not okay. And I ended up going home early, where my wife was able to calm me down enough to function the next day.
I spent a lot of time thinking about this. It linked to a lot of other thoughts, that are only really connected by the ideas of weakness and protection. All of these probably have the potential to be their own, fully-fleshed-out article someday. But they aren’t quite there yet, and I want to write them down. So here I am.
Regret
First, I wish that I had said something. Not to the parents – I know full well that evil people aren’t going to suddenly turn their life around because a stranger rebukes them. But to the kid. I was never on that scale of abuse or neglect, but I know the feeling of being alone, of just wanting some empathy and understanding. And I wish I had given that to him. That I’d said that what they were saying wasn’t true. Sure, it was a dumb question, but that’s what a lot of questions are – they still need to be asked. And wanting an answer to a curiosity isn’t a bad thing. I wish I’d said that he wasn’t worthless, that he was worth listening to, and that that was something he needed to remember and believe, so that someday he could find people who believed that about him too.
There is so much I regret not having said. But there is nothing I can do about it now. Other than pray that I have the presence of mind to say it next time.
Families
I’m really ambivalent about the nature and importance of families. Because, yeah, I think they’re super important and powerful. I place a lot of value on the importance of ensuring that my relationship with my wife is as healthy as possible, and some part of that motivation is because I need to make sure that we provide as safe and wholesome of a home for our future kids as possible. My ideal life would for my wife and I to work from home, largely so that we can be there for our kids as they grow up.
But I also know the danger that families present. Because when they are destructive, they are incredibly destructive, and it can be almost impossible to recover from that. So I don’t think everyone should have kids, because if you can’t honestly say that you can provide a safe, healthy place for children to grow up, then you shouldn’t have them. And despite growing up hearing horror stories of Child Protective Services tearing apart homeschooling families, I still think they provide a vitally important role, that should absolutely be valued. Because no one should be condemned to a life of abuse.
The Character of Christ
My wife and I are studying the book of Isaiah right now. In chapter 11, he is speaking about the Branch of Jesse, a prophecy about the character of Jesus. “He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes, or decide by what he hears with his ears; but with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth. He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth; with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked.”
The character of Christ is always shown to be one of mercy for the defenseless. He says that He wasn’t sent to earth to heal the healthy, those who don’t believe themselves in need of saving, but the sick. The powerless. And that is something that I love. And when I read about Jesus’s heart for children in the gospels, I become very sure that there is a punishment waiting for abusers.
But it also says something about how compassion must necessarily have the flip-side of vengeance. Of anger at oppression and injustice. Which I don’t think is a side of Jesus that is explored as often as it should be.
Pacifism, Almost
I have always flirted with the idea of pacifism – not a popular position as a child in a strongly conservative, pro-gun family. I remember presenting my arguments to my dad, and his best answer was about defense of those who rely on you. And that was a good answer. But I think that better, perhaps, is defense of all those who are defenseless. And then I think that maybe, sometimes, a war might be justified to protect those who cannot protect themselves.
Though that’s a slippery slope worthy of its own discussions.
On Humanely Sourced Meats
Shocking, I know, but my family also didn’t believe in organic foods. At all. We would go out of our way to not buy organic. So I didn’t grow up with stories about animal abuse or factory farms – that was conveniently swept that under the rug. It wasn’t until I met my wife, who both 1) taught me to more highly value compassion and 2) started getting really into sustainability and homesteading shortly after I met her, that I started taking an honest look at the whole thing. But I really wasn’t sure how to think about it. After all, I don’t really believe that animals have eternal souls. At least, not enough to act on that. Overcrowding in a factory farm might reduce meat quality, sure, but it also makes it cheaper, and I like cheaper.
But in the end, animals are defenseless creatures. I don’t think, really, that whether or not a dog has a soul really matters in the decision not to abuse or starve it. We should try our best to give them a good life, and that doesn’t change whether it’s a pet in question or a cow being raised for butchering. The time it has on earth should not be in pain or stress. Because how we treat defenseless creatures matters, no matter what it is.
A Piece of Therapy
I know that I did not face that same level of abuse as that kid, but there were still more subtle things. Enough that I eventually talked about them with my therapist (funny how even years later, he’s still “my therapist”). As we unpacked everything – slowly, awkwardly, painfully – he had to make the point that it wasn’t my fault that I am who I am. I was defenseless. I’ve spent so much time over the course of my so-far very short life bashing myself, blaming myself for faults that were in a very real way not my fault. I didn’t choose to be who I am. A young mind and heart is a vulnerable thing, easy to scar. So I need to give myself grace, while I still deal with the consequences of that scarring. Because, of course, this is not an excuse to fall into my particular vices or to never struggle to improve: I still need to take responsibility for my behavior. But it is a reminder to not beat myself up too badly. Part of defending the defenseless is knowing when that is you.
Well, that’s all for tonight. I hope I have the opportunity and inspiration to develop these some more some day. And I hope that I’ve given you some food for thought.