A couple of years ago, one of my Facebook friends shared this:
It took me a minute (and maybe even some researching) to figure out what was going on. I had no idea that grass clippings were a problem for motorcycles. Apparently they can be as dangerous as ice to cyclists, reducing the traction of their tires. I'm not the one who mows our lawn, but the meme made me sad, because what if we had left clippings in the road and a cyclist had retaliated by destroying our yard? How sad to be vandalized for a crime we hadn't known we'd committed.
For the last five years, we've lived in Kernersville. There's a road, Teague, that every time I drove past, some jackass would whip out in front of me and make me slam on my brakes. It was one of the more annoying constants in my life. Last year, Gabe and I moved. Now we drive ON Teague rather than past it, and guess what? You can't see cars coming from the right when you're stopped at the stop sign. People weren't cutting me off because they were rude or bad drivers; they were doing their best, just like I now have to do—and about half the time I still wince because I've "cut someone off."
On the rare occasions that I get to shop by myself these days, I no longer park next to the cart return or as close to the store as possible, even if there's a spot open. As a mom, I know how much easier it is to put a car seat from the car directly into a cart rather than have to walk a ways with the car seat bumping into your leg, jostling your baby. I think back to all the times I thought, "Score!" and pulled into a choice spot that—as a young, able-bodied person—I honestly didn't need. I feel retroactively guilty for taking spots like that, but the truth is I just didn't have any idea what makes a parent's life harder or easier.
My dad once shared a podcast episode by Brené Brown where she talks about choosing to believe that people are doing the best they can. Apparently people who believe that others are doing their best have a better time in general. They're less angry, more compassionate. Since that episode, I've tried to believe the best in others, but humbling, concrete experiences like the three above really hammer the point home.
These days, I'm more likely to imagine why someone might have acted the way they did rather than ascribe malice to them. I'm glad God is doing this work in me before Baby Elle is old enough to understand my words. I want her to be someone who believes the best in others.
Maybe people aren't as rude/stupid/careless/mean as we think. Maybe they just don't know that grass clippings are a hazard, can't see your car coming from that angle, or haven't experienced the problems of parenthood.
~Stephanie
