Hello on an mid-November evening,
While my salutation is somewhat non-committal, and I am a generally optimistic person, the daily rejection of kindness or simple goodness in the world, the country, and even within my own minute corner of Bloomsburg of has me rethinking life on a fundamental basis. From basic manners or expressing care for the other, manners are non-existent, and the belief that a simple “my-bad” suffices is ludicrous. Additionally, the meeting of any kindness with suspicion that it cannot be done simply out of pure goodness says more than I have room to write about our current world. Depending on the issue, there is always a sense of how might I manage it, but I am feeling more powerless presently than I generally do, and that frightens and dismays me. I am well aware of what degree of actual power I have in most situations (e.g. minuscule). Additionally, a regular reality check has been pushed upon me from every direction recently. Lydia used to tell me I am too kind for my own good. She regularly admonished me to not trust people and that I always give people the benefit of the doubt. I can still her her little Austrian accent across the breakfast counter, when I would try to counter her. She would simply respond, “That is BS.” Even Susan, my first wife, warned me of similar things about my youth kids. She regularly said I was too believing of their goodness or basic honesty. She referred regularly to their “me-first” philosophy.
I am quite intuitive and as such my radar is generally alive and well. At the same time I sense things pretty accurately. So between the two, not a lot surprises me. However, my overarching desire to look for the good in people, at times, undermines what my brain seems to realize. The actuality of our selfishness, our self-regard, seems to be the true character of who we are as humans. I am grateful for some supportive conversations, and the willingness of some to take the chance of being honest, in spite of their being worried to share some insight. Conversely, the failure of another, in spite of the significant time spent around me, to speak on my behalf is painful. What the entire situation shows is my intuition, my reading of a couple situations, and some as far back as a few years ago, demonstrate my attempts to be kind and supportive have been both misinterpreted and then miscommunicated. I am feeling more than a bit badly about that, but another lesson learned. Trying to be kind is not always perceived as kindness. This is not a new phenomenon; and yet, sometimes it is evident that I do not learn from past experiences, and, in particular, my willingness, my propensity, to be open and caring. As recently noted, caring about people was something seemingly inherent in my DNA. My Great-aunt noticed it before I was two.
What I have been reminded of clearly is that the very people you might want to believe have caring hearts (are fundamentally good), and I do not be-judge the accomplishments of others, seemed to believe that something done out of the kindness of my heart was an embarrassment; and in spite of my intention, it perhaps offended them. I somehow sensed that since, but such a possibility seemed so unrealistic, so absurd, I discounted it. I remember working carefully to do it appropriately and as honestly as I could. I remember diligently to make sure every single person was thanked. Now it seems I was correct. More amazingly, it was relayed to me that what I was doing was seen as unnecessary (maybe even inadequate). I must add that I have spoken to one of the principle people in the situation, and while there was some loss in what a conversation might have stated, and consequently of intention or desire from both sides. The misunderstanding it seems has gone on since that time, and there was some expression of gratitude, that is helpful. Certainly there is a change in perspective over time, but it does appear that in spite of the good intentions, it was not really appreciated. What is apparent is I, too often, let my kindness, the goodness of my heart, rule my actions. It is because as I often say, I would rather be remembered as too kind than too uncaring. I am pushed to reflect on and ask the question: Am I able to moderate this in a way I do not feel I have betrayed myself? Again, my heart overrules my brain. In the second instance, what I believed to be a good thing to support an event, and what I do regularly in chronicling events has been portrayed inaccurately (and there is an irony that past experience with that individual allowed for that very possibility.). If you would look at my photos of which my phone has more than 14K, the number of photos from my frequenting events is significant. So sharing a photo was not meant to be problematic (and it was not shared publically). I did see a marked change in attitude and behavior. Furthermore, to exacerbate that circumstance, when I specifically did something to make sure there was no chance for a misinterpretation, again, it appears that was told incorrectly to others. Again I find myself questioning perhaps a misperception or more problematically a lie. This last situation does more than frustrate me. It angers me because it raises a question of both intention and character on multiple levels. At this moment, I am unsure how to approach it. There is always the simple let it merely settle. However, there is a question of will that happen? There is confronting it, dealing with it, and getting it squared away, but there is no guarantee that is what will happen. What frustrates me, what creates a significant level of pause is the following reality – generally, there is no real win in this circumstance. And the fact that it is now 4:20 (interesting number), and I am awake and editing this says a lot. I shared this post with a friend and asked their honest opinion. They accurately noted that posting it could create more problems than help, and that is true. Do I protest too loudly or do I feel that profoundly, unfairly, treated? I will sit and ponder.
Group speak is a dangerous thing. Societally, it can create a conversation that results in violence against the people or individuals being targeted. When it is about an individual or specific circumstance, it become easy to add comments that aid in the perception of what is being asserted. Perception is reality or becomes reality for the person or group until proven otherwise. Is it regularly possible to question one’s perception? Yes, of course it is. The more significant question is whether or not the energy required will result in a reasonable ROI? Group speak can easily become group think, which is more dangerous. The need to agree becomes more important than conversation that might question the accuracy of the current conclusions. This can lead to a close mindedness, and impair the ability of those who do not believe things to be accurate. And in the lack of questioning, the silence creates a complicity, an unintentional support of a blasphemous conversation that can profoundly hurt someone.
Sometimes the discrimination that occurs toward males is stunning. I remember even when I was married, a spouse asking why I went to lunch with grad school colleagues. I responded because we were hungry. The next question was “What did you talk about?” To which I answered, “Class.” If there were females, she wanted to know what they looked looked like. If I went to lunch with only males, she even asked if I was gay. I remember being afraid to even say I went to lunch. In the twenty-five years since a divorce, the number of times I have been asked why I did not date is incredible. The number of times I have been questioned about my sexual preference is perhaps more than a hundred. When I opened my home to a gay colleague that sealed the deal in the minds of many. In fact, a woman in town (my age) and someone I found interesting told me her former husband, whom I have only met at social events, told her I was gay. The reality that I can be a single male and be content to remain single seems unimaginable to many. For the record, do I notice attractive people? Indeed, I do. Regardless their age. I actually appreciated aging in the academy because it allowed me a sense of safety. If someone is young enough to be a daughter or granddaughter I can assure you, I more often than not find them annoying. I know that sounds harsh, but I am not interested in what they are. And now I am old enough they could be a great-granddaughter, the distance is more extreme. In fact, when a person I found incredibly attractive and we tried to figure out our relationship visited, they slept in another room (and we are contemporaries). Not because I was not attracted or found them undesirable, but rather because it was the right thing to do. I wish I could say I always maintained that standard in my life. However that would be untruthful. However, here in Pennsylvania, I have had 6 female students (some at the request of their parents and all with the support of their parents) live at my house, 2 male students, and two high school exchange students, and I worked very hard to make sure they were safe and respected. So any conversation that occurs asserting something else is not only unfair, it is categorically wrong. I have worked diligently to be morally appropriate the entire time I have lived in Bloomsburg. I am proud of how I treated students and advisees during my 15 years at the university.
Again, it does take me back to kindness, and the consequence of perception. I remember from time to time being told one cannot be that kind and giving without expecting something in return. Do I expect something in return? Perhaps I do. I expect to be treated with the same kindness and respect I try to give. Again, in spite of a general feeling of disregard for someone who did know me well, I remember them once accurately telling me that my sense of loyalty was not typical, and that I should not expect it of others. While I do not like to admit their wisdom in much, they were spot-on wise in this circumstance. So why do I keep hoping for a different outcome? Is it because I want to believe people can be or do better? Is it because I wish for a world where kindness and some degree of goodness can make us all more gentle and genuine? It is that I somehow purport the “Golden Rule” can actually work? I am not sure what I hope at the moment. I am not sure what I want at the moment. I not sure what really matters at the moment. Perhaps I need to to schedule that talk with my grandmother as I noted in my last blog.
Thank you for reading. Perhaps Vincent was right.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 