Like most suburban families at the time, we were spending the afternoon at the mall. Back then this shopping center was quite popular and very busy. It had a great food court and a large carousel that lit up the entire section of the mall where it could be found. There was a fountain near the single elevator and tons of shops. One of my favorites there was the game store, big surprise for those who know me. I loved that shop, it was small, but it had tons of stuff that would spur my imagination to all kinds of heights. It is where I first learned about Magic the Gathering and Warhammer fantasy. I also picked up my first Warmachine starter box there. Going to the mall typically meant that I'd get to come home with a copy of my favorite magazine or a booster pack of magic cards. I loved it. My initiation into nerd culture is not the topic of this post though, so I will spare you any more geek centered references.
I can't remember the time of year, I'm not sure if it was the holidays or not, but I remember the mall being busy. My dad and my siblings were seated on a bench, eating and drinking crappy mall food, which was the best at that time in my life. Might still be now...hmmm....Cinnabun.... But the event that stands out clearest in my mind is what happened while we sat there.
We watched the mass of humanity flow by, people of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. It was chaotic, but organized all at the same time. One face in particular stood out in the crowd and my dad noticed him. My father stood and approached this man, he was short and older. He had a wizened look and he seemed a little puzzled at who my father was, I never knew half the people my father stopped to talk to those days so this didn't seem out of place to me.
The man my dad spoke to was black, he was one of the first black people I saw my dad interact with as far as I could remember. Living in white suburbia at the time was one of the least diverse environments known to man, at least as far as a child could tell. The two men spoke for a few brief moments, shook hands, and then parted ways. My dad returned to us and sat. I asked him who that man was. He replied with, "That is a good man."
Like I said, I don't remember much more than that from the event, I have fuzzy memories of my dad saying that the man he spoke with dealt with a lot in his time and my father respected him for that. My dad didn't go into how I should treat people of different races equally, he didn't explain the significance of what he did, he was just him. A good person.
I hope to be a good man for my children. I hope that I can show them that we are all human. That we share so many things in common, things that are far more important than the differences we see with our eyes. I want them to know that we all have the potential to be good, regardless of what others may tell them. I want to show them that a moments kindness can outweigh just about any hate or negativity. I want them to see hate and know without a doubt that they should want no part of it.
There are dangers in our world, we hear about them constantly. There is a group of people that want us to be afraid of each other. They want that fear to grow rampant and toxic. They want us to stay indoors, away from each other. They tell us that there are others, our own neighbors who are making our lives difficult. Because if we are afraid and angry with each other, we will never question those who make the rules.
The poison that courses through the veins of our country today needs to be expunged. We are better than this, we have come farther together but we still have much more to do. It saddens me to see the way we talk to one another and to hear the frustration in people's voices. I wish we could all take time to breathe, smile, and find the good that is within each and every one of us.
I hope to show my children, just like my father showed me, that there is nothing to fear from a good person. They are out there, everywhere, we just need to look past the obvious differences and take the time to celebrate how alike we all are. I want them to know that the connections we form with each other improve us, they make us better than we were before. I thank you dad, for being a good man. For teaching me through your actions that others deserve patience, kindness, and respect.
The man my dad spoke to was black, he was one of the first black people I saw my dad interact with as far as I could remember. Living in white suburbia at the time was one of the least diverse environments known to man, at least as far as a child could tell. The two men spoke for a few brief moments, shook hands, and then parted ways. My dad returned to us and sat. I asked him who that man was. He replied with, "That is a good man."
Like I said, I don't remember much more than that from the event, I have fuzzy memories of my dad saying that the man he spoke with dealt with a lot in his time and my father respected him for that. My dad didn't go into how I should treat people of different races equally, he didn't explain the significance of what he did, he was just him. A good person.
I hope to be a good man for my children. I hope that I can show them that we are all human. That we share so many things in common, things that are far more important than the differences we see with our eyes. I want them to know that we all have the potential to be good, regardless of what others may tell them. I want to show them that a moments kindness can outweigh just about any hate or negativity. I want them to see hate and know without a doubt that they should want no part of it.
There are dangers in our world, we hear about them constantly. There is a group of people that want us to be afraid of each other. They want that fear to grow rampant and toxic. They want us to stay indoors, away from each other. They tell us that there are others, our own neighbors who are making our lives difficult. Because if we are afraid and angry with each other, we will never question those who make the rules.
The poison that courses through the veins of our country today needs to be expunged. We are better than this, we have come farther together but we still have much more to do. It saddens me to see the way we talk to one another and to hear the frustration in people's voices. I wish we could all take time to breathe, smile, and find the good that is within each and every one of us.
I hope to show my children, just like my father showed me, that there is nothing to fear from a good person. They are out there, everywhere, we just need to look past the obvious differences and take the time to celebrate how alike we all are. I want them to know that the connections we form with each other improve us, they make us better than we were before. I thank you dad, for being a good man. For teaching me through your actions that others deserve patience, kindness, and respect.
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