Lost in the Quotidian

I was standing on the corner of 6th and Lamar waiting for the light to turn. I’d just bought David Byrne & Brian Eno’s new album at Waterloo as a congratulations-for-making-it-through-a-semester-of-social-work-school present.  Nuzzled into my sweatshirt pocket was my iPhone, which I do love though I keep feeling as if I have to justify owning it.

I was listening to a PRI Selected Shorts podcast about a woman with alcoholism and her despairing husband, who just couldn’t save her. My white earbuds were conspicuous in my ears. It was dark, just after sunset. I was in a good mood. I needed to find some appropriately vague holiday cards at BookPeople and then I was going to settle down and continue reading “Last Chance in Texas – the Redemption of Criminal Youth” because although my academic semester had just ended, my work hadn’t.

A Jeep with no doors pulled up at the light. It looked like a clown car there were so many people inside it, jam-packed into corners and crevices. They were shouting and loud. It sounded angry and mean-spirited.

It took me a moment to realize that they were shouting at me. I couldn’t understand why. I furrowed my brows. I didn’t want to take my headphones out of my ear because I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of that kind of impact. Still, their faces were scrunched and righteous. Eventually one line rang loud enough: “Your iPod won’t save you!” I broke into a grin at this and smiled blankly at them. But, I was pissed off.

The crosswalk light changed and I started to cross in front of them. They continued their shouts, loud and vociferous. I glanced back at the woman in the driver’s seat. Her face contorted as she unleashed something at me. I couldn’t hear or understand the words. Still, the disdain was palpable. I felt like I was being proslytized by being debased. In their eyes I was some incorrigible sinner. And by my reaction, I started to feel like one.

I was disturbed. And I was scared because I was so angry. I don’t consider myself an angry person. I have a pretty even temperment that gets me through a lot. But, it scared me how quickly even I could turn. I wanted to rip my headphones out of my ears and charge that Jeep. I wanted to swear and curse and scream and perhaps punch someone in the face. Who were they to judge me? Should we take out rap sheets? Is this what they were doing to make the world a better place?

It was awful. I was scared because I can restrain myself from violence. The world has been very kind to me. But what about someone who the world hasn’t been kind to? What about someone who was born with so many barriers in place that they have to fight just to break even? What happens when a car full of people starts shouting at them for no good reason? If I can barely hold back from throwing out the middle finger and screaming expletives, what happens to them?

And it hurt that there was nothing I could do – no magic words I could say to make the Jeepsters realize that they were going about it all wrong. That they were just disrespecting the human spirit. Anti-iPods? Fine, whatever. There are other ways to protest. There are other ways to make people hear you. All you’re doing this way is breeding negative emotions. Jeez, as I write this I still want to kick their asses. They make me feel angrily righteous, which isn’t how I want to feel.

I work with people all the time who are stuck, stuck in patterns and cycles and who aren’t sure yet if they want to change or even if they can. I guess that’s the fundamental question – how do you get folks to take a step back and look at what they’re doing? How do you get someone to examine, reflect on, question and perhaps even change their actions? And you can’t really – they have to do it – you can help them through it, but you can’t force them to see something they’re not ready to see. People are their own experts. It’s presumptuous to think you know better. Although that’s easier said than done.

As a social-worker-in-training I have to get used to anger and conflict. I have to get used to not being liked, if that’s what’s necessary to be effective. I feel a bit like it’s a war zone out there with so many people striving to be good people and “pass it forward” and so many people — like the Jeepsters — trying to dismantle the spirit of good will. Even now I keep wishing there was something I could have said as they screamed at me.

Instead, I furrowed my brows and walked uncertainly to look at piles and piles of Christmas cards all proclaiming, “Peace on Earth!”