Have you ever been wrong about someone?
In 1992 I visited Europe as a thirty-nine-year-old single woman, first touring the British Isles with my parents, and then venturing out on a solo trip to Paris. Visiting the British Isles satisfied the cultural aspects of my mother’s side of the family (Irish) and touching down in France would connect me with my father’s side…very much French.
My maiden name prior to my parent’s Americanization of it was D-e-s-a-u-l-n-i-e-r-s; Desaulniers. French was my paternal grandfather’s primary language. Because I had a knack for learning foreign languages, I took up French in my teenage years and eventually graduated from college with a Bachelor of Arts in Romance Language.
Even after many years of studying French I still found it easier to understand the language when someone conversed with me—if they spoke slowly—or when I read it in print. Quickly formulating spoken sentences with the correct verb tense and/or word gender was not something at which I was at all proficient. (My current sixty-six-year-old brain doesn’t think that fast and neither did my brain in 1992.) So, I struggled mightily traveling my way through Paris and its nearby environs, feeling less confident with each attempt at blending in with my fellow Francophiles.
When I paid for a mini-salad and baguette at a local market with the equivalent of what would have been a $50 American dollar bill and said French currency was thrown back at me, I dug into my purse to find some less-offending currency so I could abscond with my pitiful snack with as little damage as possible to my fragile psyche. Back then, I concluded that the clerk obviously fit the French stereotype oftentimes hastily proffered by those critical of some of that country’s people.
But I have come to understand I was wrong.
I believe that market clerk was having a bad day and decided to take it out on me. You see, by the words we choose or the way we choose to say them, we have all done the same thing: broadcasted how that day/week/year of our life has been by lashing out at the situation…not at the person receiving the lashing, even though the recipient certainly might feel that to be the case.
For some reason, we are quick to acknowledge our own difficulties and forgive our own injurious behavior but when the shoe is on the other foot, we apply stereotypes and/or come to the wrong conclusion about someone else’s untoward conduct. We may even choose to respond in kind, but doing so could further ruin the other person’s day, and if I might add, would add nothing beneficial to ours. I’m not required to excuse the person who treats me unkindly, but after six and a half decades of living, I’ve become more tolerant and understanding of such people.
The other day, one of our daughters “Laura” was on the receiving end of a business call wherein the customer berated the business entity and castigated our daughter in the process. Laura didn’t deserve that dressing-down but she was the unfortunate person who happened to pick up that customer’s call so she was the target. It felt lousy to be treated that way, but at thirty-three years of age, Laura was able to come to a conclusion that befitted the situation: the angry caller had something going on in her life that had caused her to act out.
When the person on the receiving end can step back and understand that it’s not personal—it’s not at all about her and is totally about the person with the angry words—a certain degree of forgiveness is possible. In this particular situation, my daughter can move on, while the other person is still covered in the mire of her circumstances.
And so, my GDM readers, it is for that reason I encourage all of us to share a smile and speak a few kind words to whomever we come in contact. We don’t know their story, but if there exists some small act we can do to lighten their load—it is beholden upon us to do so.
It costs us nothing, but might provide a priceless benefit to the recipient.
My maiden name prior to my parent’s Americanization of it was D-e-s-a-u-l-n-i-e-r-s; Desaulniers. French was my paternal grandfather’s primary language. Because I had a knack for learning foreign languages, I took up French in my teenage years and eventually graduated from college with a Bachelor of Arts in Romance Language.
Even after many years of studying French I still found it easier to understand the language when someone conversed with me—if they spoke slowly—or when I read it in print. Quickly formulating spoken sentences with the correct verb tense and/or word gender was not something at which I was at all proficient. (My current sixty-six-year-old brain doesn’t think that fast and neither did my brain in 1992.) So, I struggled mightily traveling my way through Paris and its nearby environs, feeling less confident with each attempt at blending in with my fellow Francophiles.
When I paid for a mini-salad and baguette at a local market with the equivalent of what would have been a $50 American dollar bill and said French currency was thrown back at me, I dug into my purse to find some less-offending currency so I could abscond with my pitiful snack with as little damage as possible to my fragile psyche. Back then, I concluded that the clerk obviously fit the French stereotype oftentimes hastily proffered by those critical of some of that country’s people.
But I have come to understand I was wrong.
I believe that market clerk was having a bad day and decided to take it out on me. You see, by the words we choose or the way we choose to say them, we have all done the same thing: broadcasted how that day/week/year of our life has been by lashing out at the situation…not at the person receiving the lashing, even though the recipient certainly might feel that to be the case.
For some reason, we are quick to acknowledge our own difficulties and forgive our own injurious behavior but when the shoe is on the other foot, we apply stereotypes and/or come to the wrong conclusion about someone else’s untoward conduct. We may even choose to respond in kind, but doing so could further ruin the other person’s day, and if I might add, would add nothing beneficial to ours. I’m not required to excuse the person who treats me unkindly, but after six and a half decades of living, I’ve become more tolerant and understanding of such people.
The other day, one of our daughters “Laura” was on the receiving end of a business call wherein the customer berated the business entity and castigated our daughter in the process. Laura didn’t deserve that dressing-down but she was the unfortunate person who happened to pick up that customer’s call so she was the target. It felt lousy to be treated that way, but at thirty-three years of age, Laura was able to come to a conclusion that befitted the situation: the angry caller had something going on in her life that had caused her to act out.
When the person on the receiving end can step back and understand that it’s not personal—it’s not at all about her and is totally about the person with the angry words—a certain degree of forgiveness is possible. In this particular situation, my daughter can move on, while the other person is still covered in the mire of her circumstances.
And so, my GDM readers, it is for that reason I encourage all of us to share a smile and speak a few kind words to whomever we come in contact. We don’t know their story, but if there exists some small act we can do to lighten their load—it is beholden upon us to do so.
It costs us nothing, but might provide a priceless benefit to the recipient.
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Irene Frances Olson
Author of Requiem for the status quo, a novel that celebrates and encourages family caregivers of those with Alzheimer’s or other dementia. You can find that book HERE. Ms. Olson is a member of AlzAuthors, www.alzauthors.com, a compendium of authors who have all been affected by Alzheimer's disease and other dementia. These authors share their experiences to bring knowledge, comfort and understanding to those on a similar journey. |
