It is time for the next revolution: Kindness.
It has become normal, acceptable and even applause-worthy to behave like a cruel and heartless asshole. Every day, I hear stories and see social media braggery about how some person put somebody else “in their place” through nasty, vile and demeaning means. We use language as a weapon and viciousness has become a character trait of admiration. Loud laughter and hashtags of encouragement follow any incident where one person has made another feel small, stupid and irrelevant. It has to stop.
It is far too easy to point to the politicians in DC or to repost Obama’s speech about the need for gun control (which I, too, reposted), because when we do so we are also participating in an effort to absolve ourselves of guilt and blame for what is going on in this country today. We are raising a generation of mean and aggressive youth, yet we act shocked and appalled when our constant rhetoric of verbal assaults turn into learned behavior and acts of physical aggression and violence. If we teach our children to attack, we cannot separate ourselves from the resulting calamity and death.
You might be baffled (or even offended) that I am connecting Facebook posts of a sassy generation-next and a vile massacre of innocent people in a church, but that is exactly what I am saying. We, the privileged, middle class elitists (and by “We” I mean all of us that live somewhere in between the lines of truly poor and filthy rich), have managed, somehow, to remove ourselves and absolve ourselves of the culture of violence in this country and around the world, and it is hypocritical bullshit.
We, in our safe neighborhoods and hiding behind our educational and professional resumes, are every bit to blame for all of it, as much as (if not more than) the communities from which the perpetrators of violence are born. If you are going to put yourself on a pedestal, then you are responsible for every modicum of your own behavior and the ripple effect that has on those who observe. And like it or not, you have put yourself on that pedestal.
We privately scoff at the notion of white privilege, and then publicly claim to condemn racist police action.
We turn the other way when airport security waves us through so they can frisk the Arab behind us in line, and then purport to have outrage at human rights violations on the other side of the globe.
We share victorious tales of demoralizing he or she who dares to claim to be our equal, and then shake our heads and shed tears when a sick, racist, delusional man gets hold of a gun and kills nine innocent church goers.
We are to blame and it is our fault.
You do not have the right to ask, “Where are their parents?” or “Who raised that child?” You did. I did. We did. We are all responsible for the behavior of every single person in our societies because we are putting forth information that, processed through the lenses of poverty, conflict and racism, translates into antagonism, fear and hostility.
The alternative is simple: instead of bragging about your conquests of cruelty, why not humbly and publicly admit when you have behaved badly? What if we all, today, instead of grandstanding with an LOL and monitoring how many likes our story of belittling an underling garners, what if we said, “I am ashamed of the way I behaved today because I was mean and I was cruel. I hope to do better tomorrow.” And what if we each refused to burst forth our false and angry laughter of approval at another's story of terrorizing someone and instead asked that person why they thought it appropriate to be so mean?
Or better yet, what if we just remained silent, resisting the urge to brag about our own shameful behavior and refusing to applaud it in others?
Or even better still, what if we just were not cruel? What if our collective children witnessed us treat each other with compassion? What would the world look like if that were the norm?
I cannot make Congress enact stronger gun control laws today. I cannot de-militarize our police force. I cannot fight terrorists or shut down nuclear weapons facilities or un-occupy a territory or un-melt polar ice caps. I can, however, be a kinder, gentler person and hope that the next generation notices and follows suit. We can treat our fellow humans, regardless of perception of their place in any hierarchy, with respect and love. If we do, we might just change the world. And we might just save a life.
It is time to revolt. It is time to be kind.
It has become normal, acceptable and even applause-worthy to behave like a cruel and heartless asshole. Every day, I hear stories and see social media braggery about how some person put somebody else “in their place” through nasty, vile and demeaning means. We use language as a weapon and viciousness has become a character trait of admiration. Loud laughter and hashtags of encouragement follow any incident where one person has made another feel small, stupid and irrelevant. It has to stop.
It is far too easy to point to the politicians in DC or to repost Obama’s speech about the need for gun control (which I, too, reposted), because when we do so we are also participating in an effort to absolve ourselves of guilt and blame for what is going on in this country today. We are raising a generation of mean and aggressive youth, yet we act shocked and appalled when our constant rhetoric of verbal assaults turn into learned behavior and acts of physical aggression and violence. If we teach our children to attack, we cannot separate ourselves from the resulting calamity and death.
You might be baffled (or even offended) that I am connecting Facebook posts of a sassy generation-next and a vile massacre of innocent people in a church, but that is exactly what I am saying. We, the privileged, middle class elitists (and by “We” I mean all of us that live somewhere in between the lines of truly poor and filthy rich), have managed, somehow, to remove ourselves and absolve ourselves of the culture of violence in this country and around the world, and it is hypocritical bullshit.
We, in our safe neighborhoods and hiding behind our educational and professional resumes, are every bit to blame for all of it, as much as (if not more than) the communities from which the perpetrators of violence are born. If you are going to put yourself on a pedestal, then you are responsible for every modicum of your own behavior and the ripple effect that has on those who observe. And like it or not, you have put yourself on that pedestal.
We privately scoff at the notion of white privilege, and then publicly claim to condemn racist police action.
We turn the other way when airport security waves us through so they can frisk the Arab behind us in line, and then purport to have outrage at human rights violations on the other side of the globe.
We share victorious tales of demoralizing he or she who dares to claim to be our equal, and then shake our heads and shed tears when a sick, racist, delusional man gets hold of a gun and kills nine innocent church goers.
We are to blame and it is our fault.
You do not have the right to ask, “Where are their parents?” or “Who raised that child?” You did. I did. We did. We are all responsible for the behavior of every single person in our societies because we are putting forth information that, processed through the lenses of poverty, conflict and racism, translates into antagonism, fear and hostility.
The alternative is simple: instead of bragging about your conquests of cruelty, why not humbly and publicly admit when you have behaved badly? What if we all, today, instead of grandstanding with an LOL and monitoring how many likes our story of belittling an underling garners, what if we said, “I am ashamed of the way I behaved today because I was mean and I was cruel. I hope to do better tomorrow.” And what if we each refused to burst forth our false and angry laughter of approval at another's story of terrorizing someone and instead asked that person why they thought it appropriate to be so mean?
Or better yet, what if we just remained silent, resisting the urge to brag about our own shameful behavior and refusing to applaud it in others?
Or even better still, what if we just were not cruel? What if our collective children witnessed us treat each other with compassion? What would the world look like if that were the norm?
I cannot make Congress enact stronger gun control laws today. I cannot de-militarize our police force. I cannot fight terrorists or shut down nuclear weapons facilities or un-occupy a territory or un-melt polar ice caps. I can, however, be a kinder, gentler person and hope that the next generation notices and follows suit. We can treat our fellow humans, regardless of perception of their place in any hierarchy, with respect and love. If we do, we might just change the world. And we might just save a life.
It is time to revolt. It is time to be kind.