Is the world really a safe place made dangerous by a few lunatics?
My parents taught us opposing tactics to address the issue.
My father taught me all manner of self-defense, including the importance of never leaving home without a dangerously-sharpened pencil in my pocket. He impressed on me the need to walk with my head held high, and take in all my surroundings, from the street name to how many people are standing on the other side of it and what they're wearing, in case I should need to identify them at a later time. He taught me how to recognize drunks, addicts, and general signs that a person is in an altered mental state or intends to do me harm, and given me sufficient guidance to minimize my risk of being assaulted.
He's a cop.
My mother, a special education teacher, taught me to be kind to everyone. Whenever we went into a store, my siblings and I were supposed to smile at at least five strangers. Whenever we got a smile back, we tended to go above and beyond our "smile quota." We had picnics in the park when we were younger, and on more than one occasion shared an extra sandwich and bottle of water with a hungry person who asked for change. We've made a fair amount of friends this way.
I live in a rough area far away from both my parents, but I still walk with my head held high, a pencil in my pocket, and a smile for anyone who catches my eye. The smiles have gotten me a mild reputation as a kind person with a sympathetic ear, particularly at the light rail/bus depot by my work, and I've listened to a fair few people cry their eyes out because sometimes you just need to get a weight off your shoulders, and an anonymous ear can do wonders for that. I've been accosted by people intending me harm a few times, and been able for the most part to disarm them pretty effectively, and defend myself when that didn't work. Kindness, I've been taught, is and should be my first line of defense and offense against the world. But on the occasions it fails, you should still be able to defend yourself.
On the whole, though, I've helped out far more people than I've had to defend myself from, and even last weekend, I've been the victim of some random acts of kindness. I was buying dinner food, and my card was declined. The lady behind me at the checkout paid for my food. That's only the most recent example. I could go back further and share more, but they're all spontaneous, awesome, and happen in an hour of dire need.
It's so easy to say the world is a crazy, awful place, but, to butcher a quote from my favorite book series:
My parents taught us opposing tactics to address the issue.
My father taught me all manner of self-defense, including the importance of never leaving home without a dangerously-sharpened pencil in my pocket. He impressed on me the need to walk with my head held high, and take in all my surroundings, from the street name to how many people are standing on the other side of it and what they're wearing, in case I should need to identify them at a later time. He taught me how to recognize drunks, addicts, and general signs that a person is in an altered mental state or intends to do me harm, and given me sufficient guidance to minimize my risk of being assaulted.
He's a cop.
My mother, a special education teacher, taught me to be kind to everyone. Whenever we went into a store, my siblings and I were supposed to smile at at least five strangers. Whenever we got a smile back, we tended to go above and beyond our "smile quota." We had picnics in the park when we were younger, and on more than one occasion shared an extra sandwich and bottle of water with a hungry person who asked for change. We've made a fair amount of friends this way.
I live in a rough area far away from both my parents, but I still walk with my head held high, a pencil in my pocket, and a smile for anyone who catches my eye. The smiles have gotten me a mild reputation as a kind person with a sympathetic ear, particularly at the light rail/bus depot by my work, and I've listened to a fair few people cry their eyes out because sometimes you just need to get a weight off your shoulders, and an anonymous ear can do wonders for that. I've been accosted by people intending me harm a few times, and been able for the most part to disarm them pretty effectively, and defend myself when that didn't work. Kindness, I've been taught, is and should be my first line of defense and offense against the world. But on the occasions it fails, you should still be able to defend yourself.
On the whole, though, I've helped out far more people than I've had to defend myself from, and even last weekend, I've been the victim of some random acts of kindness. I was buying dinner food, and my card was declined. The lady behind me at the checkout paid for my food. That's only the most recent example. I could go back further and share more, but they're all spontaneous, awesome, and happen in an hour of dire need.
It's so easy to say the world is a crazy, awful place, but, to butcher a quote from my favorite book series:
How many mortals did it take to write all these books? How many hands shelved them, and cared for them, and repaired them, and read them? And it takes just one stupid mortal monkey with a torch to destroy it all, but after so many of them spent so much incalculable time writing the books, wouldn't you say that the behavior of the librarian is more typical of the mortals than the behavior of the arsonist?
