I took the kids to the park today, because it was so beautiful, and I wanted to sit in that light fall wind that cleans your heart a little. My observations about the kids at the park are many. It’s where I see some of our worst community behavior, and our best.
One boy ran into a preschooler by accident, with his skateboard, and the toddler tumbled. The boy asked him if he was ok and the little one ran off. The boy looked at me, and said, “He’s ok.” I said, “Maybe, but he’s kind of little huh? Maybe we should find his mom and let her know what happened?”
He was afraid. I went with him and we looked for her, and he told her what happened, and she was kind to him, and he smiled and went on his way. Shortly after that, it was time to leave.
I saw two men standing by my car talking. I could hear bits of political rhetoric. My car sports a variety of stickers that are not in congruence with our Red County. They stopped talking when the kids climbed into the car, and I walked up to pet their dog.
I said hello, and stood there for a few minutes, and one of the men restarted his tape about how “they’re making the divide wider,” etc. The other man looked uncomfortable. He was the dog owner.
When you’re on opposite sides of the political spectrum, and a person from the other side stops, makes eye contact, chats about dogs for a second, and then gets in the car, and waves as they’re leaving, maybe that’s just enough cognitive dissonance to help someone stop listening to the lies.
Maybe. Every interaction matters these days, I think.
Photo by Justin Veenema on Unsplash
