What would you do?

At the end of the audiobook version I listened to of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas there was an interview with the author that made me think even more deeply. 

The interviewer said:

I always say that you don’t hand in your reading passport at 14 to draw an adult one. Or the age or twelve or whenever. You seamlessly travel up the ladder and every step you take frees your mind further, doesn’t it. 

The power of books has been something I've enjoyed for a long time. I have never thought of it quite as freeing my mind, but I like that a lot. 

In the interview, they also discussed some of the criticism people have had for the book. One line of criticism deals with the level of complacency in the book, the idea that no one did anything.  

There are examples in the book of people actively choosing not to do anything: 

“...do whatever your father tells you, we must all just keep ourselves safe until this is all over. That’s what I intend to do anyway. What more can we do than that after all? It’s not up to us to change things.”

My gut reaction: "Isn’t it up to us to change things? Even if we can’t do everything, we can do something."

In the interview, the author said that we'd all like to think that we would stand up and do something. But would we?

I'm one of those people that likes to think I would do something. Every time I read a book set in WWII I want to think I'd be the one with a hidden cupboard or feeding people living in my attic or something, anything. 

Is there a way to know?

For me, I have a clear example of when I did not. There was a time in junior high when I could have stood up against a bully on behalf of someone else, and I didn’t.

I remember wanting to. And I remember being scared of what could happen to me if I did.

From my journal in Jan 1999: 

"these two trouble makers were throwing rocks at the two kids that were sitting in front of me. They were actually more like gravel than anything, but when they missed they would usually hit me and it hurt really bad!"

 

What if we don't stand up to the bully? What do we do? 

Labeling ourself a lost cause and continuing onward with our head down "just keep[ing] ourselves safe until this is all over" isn't what I want to do. I want to learn and become better.

This makes me think of a habit I formed later, while in high school. 

Teenagers are not always nice. On more than one occasion I found myself sitting in a car or around a lunch table and people would say unkind things about someone who wasn't there. Usually someone we all knew. One time I spoke up, "You know, this makes me wonder what you say about me when I'm not around."

Silence.

Sometimes it lead to open conversation about the value of speaking positively about others. Sometimes people apologized to me, or reasured me they didn't say mean things behind my back. I don't know if it changed what people thought or said in the long run, but every time I pulled out that phrase it stopped the negative conversation. 

Should 9-year-old Bruno have realized more about the situation he and his family were in? Maybe. 

Should his parents and the adults in his life have told him more? I don't know.

I do know that it would have been better if he didn't have to be in the situation in the first place. And that is something that adults have more responsibility for than children. 

Something else I've been thinking about is the power in moving forward. 

Our lives are full of opportunities to make choice, to help or not, to speak up or not, to seek understanding, to share with others. We get to make decisions over and over again. And if (okay, when, let's be real) we make one we don't like or aren't proud of, we can try again. And we can do what we can to make up for, repair, or fix things when possible. When that's not possible, we can pay forward to as many people as possible a larger heart, a kinder soul and plant seeds of goodness.

Exploring Connections

Finding connections is something I really enjoy.

It is one of the things I love about traveling - that you can go such different places and find similarities. People are people, with hopes and dreams and families and challenges. Places have little things that remind you of other places. But until you go and see and interact with people and places there are things you just don't know or comprehend.

I recently finished listening to an audiobook called I am Malala. It had been on my to-read list for a long time. Listening to that book after an extended trip to Madagascar was insightful. It helped me to connect to things Malala talked about - including just understanding that there are things I can't understand about her specific situation or the places she wrote about since I have not been there or experienced them myself.

But there were so many nuggets of truth, moments of connection, that I loved in this book.

Another reason for the connection comes from a project I've been working on - typing up all my childhood journals. Reading over those words have reminded me what it was like to be in elementary school and junior high. To relive the adventures of changing schools, meeting new people, learning from my teachers and textbooks, but also from my friends and our interactions, big and small.

There are two lines that stood out to me with that context.

Malala shares an experience where a new girl at her school became friends with her and her best friend, Moniba: 

... which sometimes caused fights as three is a tricky number.

Passages from my journal when I was in fifth grade came to mind - moments when there was tension between my "best friend" and her "best friend". I often felt like she wasn't my best friend after all - the proof lying in the fact that she had a different best friend. 

Later in the book, Malala shares a cultural phrase that makes me smile:

The other girls stirred things up, what we call putting masala on the situation.

I've experienced that myself! And it has been interesting to read (sometimes in a lot of detail!) about some of those experiences from my childhood.  

Perhaps the most interesting thing to me is the reminder that so many of the things that seem like big deals in the moment are not. And sometimes things we don't even notice at the time shape our life in far reaching ripples.

Next Time I'll Lock the Door

You know those "memories" you only have because someone has told you the story so many times?

This is one of mine:

When I was about two years old I discovered I could make a staircase out of my dresser if I pulled all the drawers open different amounts. I pulled everything out of each drawer to make it easier to climb up to the top.

My dad was passing by my room and saw me - he was, rightly so, concerned for my safety. Empty dressers with all their drawers pulled out can easily tip onto a little girl and do some big damage.

"Don't do that - put the drawers back right now. I don't ever want to see you doing this again!" My dad scolded.

"Fine, next time I'll just lock the door first," my two-year-old self muttered as I flung clothes back into the drawers.

My dad loves telling this story, and often when he tells it to others they say something like, "Oh man, that's when you knew you were in trouble"

This week I've been reading from Acts as part of the Come Follow Me curriculum rolled out by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints this year.

Reading about Saul and his miraculous, nearly instantaneous transformation to Paul reminded me about the dresser staircase story and how my dad responded to my willfulness.

I'm grateful that instead of being worried (or at least not overly worried) about potential negative implications of this facet of my personality, my dad viewed it as a challenge. A chance for him to use his knowledge of my tendencies and his life experience to lovingly guide me.

My parents talk about my willfulness, independence and stubbornness often and how they hoped they could help me channel it toward good causes. I feel so often our skills and tendencies are like that - we can use them powerfully either for good or evil, it is our choice.

Another time I was studying about Saul/Paul someone shared their opinion that he did not actually change that much. His personality and approach were the same. He was still outspoken and fighting for a cause he believed in - the cause he was fighting for is what changed.

What a cool example and thought. When I learn that I am doing something wrong, I want to be more like Saul/Paul. I want to be able to pivot and put all of my energy in a new direction - a better direction.

Saul gave us a great example of how to do this: Pray to God and ask, "What wilt thou have me to do?" (Acts 9:6). Then once we have an answer, do it.