Accidental Car Door Ding

My car door opened too quickly the other day 

And accidentally hit the side of the truck beside me. 

 

Thankfully, it was a white work truck that already had a wrecked front

Because it left a little ding. 

 

A man was in the truck and 

He unhappily looked at me and made an exasperated gesture. 

 

The man had just come out of the gun store 

With a new gun. 

 

I felt uneasy as I walked away and 

Hoped the man wouldn’t be waiting for me when I returned. 

 

He was still there when I walked back to my car. 

I didn’t make eye contact. 

 

I cautiously pulled away, 

Afraid he might follow me. 

 

As I drove down the road, 

I looked in my rear view mirror. 

 

Two cars back, 

There he was. 

 

Fearing road rage or being attacked when I got out of the my car, 

I pondered my options. 

 

Thankfully I was going to be driving awhile. 

And i was going to be arriving near a fire station. 

 

About five minutes into the drive, though,

The man slowed down and suspiciously turned around. 

 

I felt relieved. 

But I also felt sad that I had to consider plans for what to do with a man’s misplaced anger. 

 

I don’t want to live in fear,

But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t carry the fear of guns and violence qnd rage and untreated mental illness and school shootings in my bones. 

 

We have a lot of work to do, friends.

We shouldn’t have to be afraid of accidentally dinging someone’s car door. 

 

We shouldn’t have to be afraid at all. 

Anger Issues

 

I have a student who is a very good musician. 

He is super sweet when he’s in a good mood,

But he has major anger issues when he’s not. 

He’s been doing well in my class this year,

Sitting at my desk and drawing to keep himself focused and calm,

But last week, he wandered away from my desk and started bothering some classmates.

When I told him to come back over to my desk—

Not because he was in trouble but because he does better at my desk—

He got mad.

He started mumbling.

“Man, I hate school.

I’d rather be doing ANYTHING but school.

I hate school.

I hate everything about it.

I’d give anything to not be here—

I’d go anywhere else.”

And he kept on going.

Then a classmate joined in,

“It’s okay.

This torture will be over soon

And then we can go to lunch.”

“I hate lunch.

Lunch isn’t even fun anymore.”

And they just commiserated with one another

About how horrible everything was.

All the while,

I was listening and trying not to take it personally.

Especially the part about
“This torture will be over soon.”

 

There’s a lot I could say about this situation,

But I think what strikes me most is

The little sting that stung when I heard my class called torture.

I know, these two children have no idea what true torture is.

But in their 4^th grade brains,

Sitting through music class while learning a Preamble Rap

Was torture.

What a dramatically strong word for something so minor as

Being redirected and then not liking a song!

And what a powerfully stupid word to hurt me.

 

But it did.

A little.

Because words are so very powerful--

Even words from children who have no idea what they’re saying.

 

So may we choose our words wisely,

What we say and what we write,

And may we model healthy emotional expression to the children

Who are hurting,

And my goodness are they hurting.  

 

Amen.