The other day I was out at a bar and one gentlemen was being belligerent, rude ignorant and every second word started with F sharp. He was intoxicated and the more he drank the worse he became. He would call out other customers and the owners.
Several people attempted to calm this gentleman down and it only wound him up even more. He would not calm down and was asked to leave.
I did everything in my power to not judge him, however, I did judge him, not only judged him and I stereotyped him. Usually, when this happens I need a mental health tune up.
Later that night I got it. On my way home I stopped at the bank to use the ATM. A young lady was hunkering down for the night. As I left I wished her a safe night. She said thanks. I got in the car and openly wept for a couple of minutes. Driving away I thought I need to do something. I drove by a McDonalds and almost stopped. I didn’t.
Why didn’t I. Was I judging? What was I really afraid of? Now I started judging again, except I was judging myself for my inaction.
A couple of days later and I stopped at the same ATM. This time there was a young male getting ready for the night. I handed him a completed McDonalds coffee card and wished him a safe and restful night.
Years ago, I would have had walked right by without even noticing or giving a single thought. Years ago I was full of white privilege, anger and entitlement and thought I was hot shit. Years ago, I would have thought locking up the homeless was the way to go.
I know better now, everyone has a story to tell. I have my own story to tell. Ten years ago, I was diagnosed with depression. I sought treatment, saw counsellors, went on medication and was open with my depression. Telling everyone. Yeah some people didn’t want to hear it. Lost friends, social network and recognized that family is more than blood. I was venturing down that path where I could of been the homeless person. You never know we could all be one step away from sleeping on a floor in the lobby of a bank.
#BeKind
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