Great Expectations

Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me

Takes me right back to childhood, that phrase. I heard it enough on the playground, and even said it enough myself, that I’ve had a lot of time to contemplate what it means. The implication is that words have no power. Anyone who has ever been teased or had an argument with a lover knows that words have the power to push you nearly to death. There’s one particular word that has been interesting me lately: should.

The concept of should implies a gap between the way things really are and the way people believe they ought to (should) be. Numerous times throughout history this gap in perception has caused major cultural shifts. Enough people though that people should be able to live free regardless of race and we got the abolition movement. Enough people thought the war in Vietnam was pointless and a waste of lives and should be stopped and we got the anti-war movement. Enough people thought that race shouldn’t be a factor in public accommodations and everyday life and we got the civil rights movement of the 1950s.

I could go on but the point is that people saw a gap between how things were and the way they thought they should be and acted to make change. But what happens to us as individuals when we approach life with expectations, with the mental list of shoulds with which we have been raised (you should say please and thank you, you should be polite, you should work hard and follow the rules and you’ll be rewarded), and those expectations aren’t met?

I’m not sure if gay and lesbian people are at an advantage over our heterosexual peers in managing the disappointment and shock that comes with having our expectations unmet by society simply because, by admitting the truth of who we are, we’ve already acknowledged that we’re outside the norm or if we are disadvantaged because we are outside the expectations of most of the rest of society, thereby setting ourselves up for constant disappointment.

Whatever the case may be, I find that I’m much happier if I expect nothing. In this way, I’m not disappointed because I don’t have to face the disappointment of not having my “should” criteria met and I’m able to react to what is in front of me. But where do I draw the line with this process?

I believe that the very fabric of American society is fraying. This may only be true in cities but it seems to me that we are, increasingly, a nation of self-centered naval gazers who believe that the world revolves around them and that everyone else should bend to their will and convenience. I see it every day: people who don’t hold doors, people who congregate at the top of the subway escalator in the middle of rush hour forcing every single commuter to dodge around them, people who talk on their cell phone while speeding through residential neighborhoods ignoring stop signs and the fact that there are kids playing on the sidewalk. I also see it on a much larger scale in the lack of personal responsibility that seems to permeate our society.

In today’s Washington Post there was an article about a man who is awaiting trial on a 20 year-old bench warrant. When he was 19 he was arrested for stealing some hubcaps off a car. According to the article he was sentenced to three years’ probation, the conditions of which included that he pay $363 in court costs and notify his probation officer if he moved.

He did none of these things.

Instead, he moved to Texas without notifying his probation officer and skipped out on the fine. The Florida court that sentenced him issued a bench warrant for his arrest and this warrant popped up during a routine review of cruise ship passenger manifests by U.S. Customs officers. The Post quotes him as saying:

“It seems so unfair,” Clerkin said. “I understand I did wrong, I should pay a penalty, but the harshness seems so unreal. The state of Florida basically wants to ruin my entire life over something that happened 20 years ago.”

So…this guy doesn’t pay the fine he was originally required to pay, violates the terms of his probation, and yet, we’re supposed to feel sorry for him because he goes to church regularly, has his own business, and because he’s been in jail for three months he might not be able to pay his 17 year-old daughter’s freshman tuition at college in the fall.

Perhaps it’s just me. Perhaps I was raised with too strong a moral code, one that values substance over style, values contribution over convenience. The one thing I do know is that we are rapidly reaching a point where social morays won’t exist. Everyday coping then with the clash between how we’ve been taught people should behave and how the world actually is will be even more monumentally difficult than it is now. But you know, by then, I’m sure the pharmaceutical industry will have developed a pill that makes everything alright. It will, in truth, be a Brave New World.