Noblesse oblige

[mrissa]

So, Valentine's Day, huh? All right: I'll tell you a story about love.

Once upon a time there was little girl who had a bully. He was not unwilling to beat people up if they were boys, although he knew that the teachers who looked the other way when he was a racist little beast (among other fine traits) would step in and put a stop to it if he hit girls. But what he really loved was to say horrible, nasty things to people. Starting in kindergarten, he thought it was great fun if he could make people cry. By the time third grade rolled around, he hadn't made this little girl cry, but he made her furious and miserable quite a lot.

Furious and miserable was not good enough.

So he brought out the big guns, the worst thing he could think of. Surely that would finally make her cry. This little girl was an only child. And her bully informed her that that meant that her parents didn't want kids at all, that they didn't like her and certainly didn't love her. And then he folded his arms to watch her fall apart.

And she laughed.

Of all the things the little girl knew in her clever, bookish little life, the one that was bedrock certain, all the way down, was that her Mom and Daddy loved her and wanted her. And so the bully's spell was broken. After that, he could upset her by hurting her best friends, but she always knew that he was full of it, making things up to be hurtful, and his power over her was gone.

Not everyone is given that kind of bedrock-certainty love as a kid. But everyone should be. Those of us who have that kind of upbringing have the world's most important kind of noblesse oblige. We are obligated to pass that along -- to our own children if we have any, but also to partners and friends, to whatever others we come upon in our lives who have a piece of our hearts, mentors or protégés, cousins, in-laws, godchildren, whoever. We owe it to the rest of the world to find people to whom we can pass on that certainty of love. We need to let the people we love know it so thoroughly that when the world's nasty voices hiss, "She doesn't really love you," they can laugh and say, "Of course she does. What a stupid thing to say," and mean it down into their bones.

Comments

[eposia.livejournal.com]

One of the reasons I like reading your journal is the frequency of thought synchronicity. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately on the "responsibilities" of spreading love and compassion for those of us kids who know what it is to be Loved. Thanks!

[kendwoods.livejournal.com]

:-)

"She loves me like a Rock!"

[netmouse.livejournal.com]

Hear hear! Thank you for this story. and Hurrah!

Hi there!

[atdt1991.livejournal.com]

We have a few friends in common, and I was linked here.

*Add'd!*

Re: Hi there!

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Hi and welcome!

[jebbypal]

Absolutely beautiful and truthful.

[buymeaclue.livejournal.com]

:)!

(Oops, wrong icon.)

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

Why wrong icon? Is nice bop.

[buymeaclue.livejournal.com]

Sorry, I meant the "wrong icon" to refer to the one I used when posting the comment the first time. I realized as I hit "post" that love = a warm dog. :-p

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I am enlightened.

[panjianlien.livejournal.com]

Oh, yay.

[cakmpls.livejournal.com]

Great story, better for obviously being true.

One wonders what were the circumstances of that bully boy's life, that he not only needed to do this, but could think of all the nasty and horrible things to say. Because if the little girl's power to laugh at such things came from her background, so did his need and ability to hurt. Had the teachers been willing to do more, they might have saved not only his victims but the bully himself.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I know at least two layers of the circumstances of his life, since it was a fairly small neighborhood. But obviously one never knows all the details of someone else's family, even in a small neighborhood.

I will note that if you feel the need to treat one of your children as though he is a shining little jewel who stands above the others of your children regardless of what good things they do or what bad things he does, he may take that lesson beyond your family unit in some form.

[profrobert.livejournal.com]

I was thinking something similar. There must have been something very wrong in that little boys life to fill him with so much anger. I suspect his final verbal assault may have been projection of his own sense of lack of worth. As your story shows, children who feel secure in their families love are happier, kinder people (and continue to be so as adults).

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I think "lack of self-worth" is the popular explanation for this sort of thing. I think being taught that you are wonderful regardless of your behavior and regardless of whether you hurt people -- not that you are loved, but that you are wonderful -- is at least as likely to be a problem.

[profrobert.livejournal.com]

Well, then if it's a lack-of-boundaries problem, it may be that he was acting out to get his parents' attention so they would set limits on him. Children need limits to feel safe (even as they push against those limits). I had very few limits as a child, which resulted in a kind of emotional vertigo (and I'm not saying that because I'm writing here; it's the phrase I've used for years). I figured at some level that if my parents couldn't protect themselves from me, who was going to protect me from outside forces? I had to become the biggest, scariest, meanest thing in the world (and, like this little boy) used words, not fists. Took me a long time to let go of that, and if I'm not careful, I can backslide into being Scary Dude if I feel scared or threatened by something myself. Any idea what happened to that boy?

[cakmpls.livejournal.com]

I think that what you describe in your second paragraph is a form of emotional abuse, of the "golden" child as much as of the others, because of its destructive potential for that child's life. (Not to mention the harm it causes others in his path.)

[writingortyping.livejournal.com]

Yup. Most definitely.

[copperwise.livejournal.com]

This? This is why I love you. Thank you for posting it.

[reveritas.livejournal.com]

sweet.

[kalmn.livejournal.com]

it never even occurred to me that my parents might not want and love me. i don't even recall a time when my parents were not talking about what good kids we were and how they were thinking about thawing the clones so there could be more just like us.

may i point my parents over here?

[talyx.livejournal.com]

:)

Pointed here from netmouse, and happy to have the opportunity to read this.

Unrelatedly, the title always makes me think of Terry Pratchett - nobbly-ess obbli-gay

[skzbrust.livejournal.com]

I like that!

Valentine's Day Story

[mackatlaw.livejournal.com]

This was wonderful to read this morning. Thank you for posting it!

Mack

Delurking for a moment...

[gauroth.livejournal.com]

Thank you. That's a very moving tale. As a mother, this bedrock certainty is exactly what I try to give to my children and also to my children's friends and to my neighbours' children. When I was a child I appreciated my neighbours, who let me use their phone, or gave me a drink and a cookie, and I do the same for the children who live 'round here because it's those little things that make such a big difference. I feel that I'm repaying the kindness I had by passing it on to the next generation. Kindness, I think, is a very underrated thing these days!

Lurking here again

Re: Delurking for a moment...

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I grew up in a neighborhood like that, too. There wasn't a block around where I couldn't tell you which neighbors were home all day, which ones were home all day only in the summer, which ones were home all day because they worked night shift so you should only pound on their door and wake them if there were significant amounts of blood and you couldn't get your bleeding friend somewhere else first, etc....