How I Reacted When I Saw a Child Wearing a Hate Symbol at School 4d5z6u

I was once traveling in a remote corner of South America. I saw an old man sitting on a bench who gestured that I should come and speak with him. It wasn’t unusual for people to be curious about me. There are places in the world where tall men with white skin and light hair are uncommon. “Hello,” he said as I drew near. “Where are you from?” “I’m from the United States,” I replied. He nodded to himself, but I could tell he was ruminating on my response. After a moment he said, “The United States, of course. I guess I’m not familiar with that place. Where is it?” Experiencing such a moment helps provide context into the reality of the world. Some people live their whole lives never hearing anything about the preoccupations and concerns that we take for granted. I think, therefore, that we must all be mindful that there’s a difference between genuine and malicious ignorance. It might be a good practice to assume that all ignorance is genuine. I’ve come to believe that the assumption of malice is nothing more than an excuse to allow hatred to enter your heart. Once you allow hate in, you become less effective in your opposition to the root cause of human suffering. It’s easy to overlook the privilege of our own education. We take it for granted that we’ve learned history, and we’ve been taught about historical events. We even forget what a benefit it is that we were taught how to read. Not everyone receives that advantage. Some people are deprived of education. It’s inappropriate to respond with anger when you meet somebody who didn’t grow up with the same advantages you enjoyed. Instead, you should seize the moment and offer the lessons that have not yet been shared. I once taught English at a small school in a rural area. I’d just left my classes for the day. The school was in a warm climate so there was no roof. The structure looked odd to me, as if it was incompletely built. There were rooms, there were stairways, but everything was open to the air. I was walking through the courtyard on my way to the gate when I came upon a kid. He had a friendly face and seemed innocent enough. The trouble is, he was wearing a shirt with a swastika printed on the right shoulder. I stopped and looked at it, blinking several times to make sure I wasn’t mistaken. It was a brown shirt with some white scribbles. I can’t recall what any of the words said, I’m not sure I took the time to read them, or if they were even in English. The swastika on the shoulder commanded my attention. I approached the kid, not exactly knowing what I was getting into. The kid was chatting away and laughing with his friends, apparently indifferent to the hate symbol on his shoulder. In the few steps I had to observe him, I didn’t get the impression that this was a person who intended to make a statement. Had he gone into a store and purchased this shirt? Did he know what it meant? Or, had it been given to him? Had it been donated by somebody in another part of the world who had suddenly seen the light? Or had it been sent as a malicious joke in the hope that a child would wear it without knowing what it represented? All I had was speculation. There was no way of knowing the shirt’s origin, so I realized there was no point in me wasting my energy thinking about it. During my traveling years, I’d met people who had never heard of the United States. I’d also had conversations with people who had never heard of World War II. Again, we take our education for granted. We make the assumption that everyone all over the world has the same access to information that we do. They don’t. We have to be mindful of that fact so we don’t dispossess ourselves of the inclination to give others the benefit of the doubt. I’ve employed many tactics to combat hatred when I stumble upon it. It’s natural to see a hate symbol and feel anger bubble up inside you. However, I’ve come to the conclusion that allowing yourself to become angry only brings additional hate into the world. Yes, you risk looking foolish if you give a hateful person the benefit of the doubt. They’re likely to respond to you with mockery and derision. But I’m not sure that mirroring their aggressive behavior has any chance of success. You have to risk looking foolish and innocent in order to have a hope of getting through to them. You have to assume that there’s something inside them worth saving. So, I approached this kid, not wanting to intimidate him. I said hello. Then I asked him if he knew what the symbol on his shirt meant. He glanced down at the chest rather than over at the shoulder, and I took that as a positive sign. He looked up at me in confusion. “This symbol,” I said, pointing to the swastika. He just looked at me. “I tell you what I’ll do,” I said. “There’s a store that sells shirts right next to the school. Let’s go there and I’ll buy you a new shirt. I’ll also buy the shirt you’re wearing.” I had just enough money on me to buy these two shirts and still have enough for the ride home. The total ended up being around $15. When I made this proposal, the kid’s eyes widened in delight and he readily agreed. So, we walked to the store together. He picked out his shirt and stepped into the back to try it on. A moment later, he emerged from the changing room and handed over the shirt with the swastika. I paid for the shirt, gave the kid his money, and we went outside. Before the kid had time to walk away, I proceeded to tear the shirt with the swastika into little pieces. Once again, the kid’s eyes got wide. This time there was a hint of confusion. “This shirt has a very bad symbol,” I explained, pointing to the tattered remnants of the swastika. “Wearing this symbol will hurt you. It will hurt your family. When you see this symbol, you must get as far away from it as you can. Do you understand?” The kid nodded at me. Then he left, glancing back a few times as he returned to the school. This story came to mind because of something that happened when I was out for breakfast with my family a few days ago. We’d just been served our waffles and eggs when a young boy walked by our table. He was accompanied by an elderly woman that I assumed to be his grandmother. The boy wore a windbreaker printed to look like the confederate flag. The design covered his entire chest and stomach. It was very much as if he were marching through the room bearing that banner. When he went past, I sat there thinking about what had happened. I was tempted to try my trick again. I thought to approach this kid and offer to buy his windbreaker so I might tear it to pieces, and then take the pieces home to burn. But I patted my wallet and realized I didn’t have any cash on me. So, I did nothing. Would he have taken the money? Is this course of action even the right thing to do? I keep finding myself occupied with the question of how to defeat hate. Will we all go bankrupt if we try to purchase every hate symbol we see out in the wild? Is it wrong to offer to pay somebody to take their symbols of hate out of circulation? In a sense, it almost feels like you’re making a contribution to hatred. For all you know, they’ll go and spend the money you give them on another hate symbol laughing all the while. But I’ve tried other tactics. I’ve allowed myself to become enraged at people for displaying their symbols. I’ve confronted them. I’ve been hostile. I don’t think that’s effective. Upon reflection, the only times that I have had success is when I’ve approached people with the assumption that their actions were done out of ignorance and not a flaw in their character. The only times I’ve had success is when I’ve tried to use gentle guidance to convince them to turn away from a path that can lead only to misery, grievance, and regret. You can’t use force, only encouragement. By paying them for their hate symbols, I was really offering them a chance to liberate their souls. I believe that we need to be focused not on punishment, but on offering gentle guidance so that hateful people might find a way out of their tormented existence. We’ve got to encourage others to change their direction and make progress towards a better world. In doing so, they might discover that the hole in their heart which is causing them so much discomfort might yet be filled. I only wish I could reach more of them and more quickly. But I’ve also learned we must be grateful for any progress, no matter how small. “I'd rather Be Writing” exists because of your generous . If you have the means please consider upgrading to a paid sponsorship. I have payment tiers starting at as little as twenty dollars a year. I'm so happy you're here, and I'm looking forward to sharing more thoughts with you tomorrow. 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