Ravings of a BiPolar Gothic Witch
     Occasional commentary, observations and tidbits as well as other random thoughts

Since my day on the bike on Sunday with B I have been thinking about the tendency of humans to be either kind or oblivious, or maybe just downright selfish.  Regardless of my writings, I do tend to want to believe the best of people, something that probably doesn’t come through when I bitch so much.  But at heart I really am an optimist, really… I swear!

Anyway, on Sunday as I wrote about previously B and I stopped to help a couple who’s bike had died along side the road.  To me it was a given that we would stop.  To B it was a given that we would stop.  To both of us there was no question.  Apparently however, the rest of the world whizzed by leaving them to fend for themselves.

That started the thinking, and it has gone on from there developing into this that I am writing.  Today I read about some horrible studies into base human nature, confirming the fact that when given the chance most humans descend into animals.   Let me rephrase that, animals wouldn’t do the things we do by choice, at least not most animals.  Cruelty has certainly been seen in some of the primate species closest to us (namely chimps), but for the most part animals live in a world of eat or be eaten, and have no time for the creatively sadistic behaviors that fuel the human imagination.

Start reading here.  I would appreciate you coming back to read me though after you finish. 

So that post got me motivated and I thought about my life.  Let me start out by saying I do not consider myself brave, altruistic, or in any other way "above" others.  Yet I have always recognized there was something different about me in terms of the crowd mentality.  First off, I don’t follow it, and never have.  I was a loner in HS and most of it was because I just didn’t follow the bullshit that everyone subscribed to.  I didn’t care about being in the "in crowd", I cared about what I thought, felt and believed and being true to it.  When I found someone close to my world view, I befriended them.  That wasn’t often.

Part of that however, is apparently the need to NOT be the bystander and watch (or turn away from) the tragedy in action.  And I don’t know if they just seem to happen to me more, or if I remember them because I took action, but even my son commented last night about how I seem to pick up on things more than what seems usual.

I have tried very hard to educate and be an example to my kids of acting out in a manner of following our convictions.  If something is wrong, being willing to stand up for that belief, to act on it.

One of the first times I remember that was when we lived in New Orleans (actually Metairie, a suburb).  Typical suburbia with fenced yards behind ranch style houses.  Two yards down there was a single man who had a back yard where much of the time his german shepherd lived out his life.  Most evenings when the man had returned from what I presume was work, I would hear the tortured sounds of the shepherd as the man brutally abused him.  This went on for about a week, until I couldn’t stand it any more.  Obviously he had been doing it for as long as he lived there, and no one that bordered him had done anything about it.  But I walked out into my backyard to assess exactly what it was that was happening.  My 2 year old daughter walked out with me and once I saw what was happening, I told her to go back in the house.  This was partially because I didn’t want her to see such terrible violence, but also because I knew that the coming confrontation was likely to be ugly. 

I stood and watched for about 2 minutes while the man brutally kicked his dog with his cowboy boots.  What amazes me is that the dog didn’t go for the man’s throat.  But humans react the same way - just like the articles show above.  There is something in animal (including us) behavior that identifies the perpetrator and regardless of our methods of possible protection we take the abuse.  After that minute I yelled at the man to stop.  It took a couple times to get through the terrible howling of the dog, but he finally heard me at which point, like brushing a way a fly, he told me he’d do whatever the hell he wanted to his own damn dog, and went back to kicking him, and at this point, he obviously began taking out his additional anger at me as well.  I shouted again that if he didn’t stop I would do something about it.  I was right in thinking the man would get ugly.  He asked me just what I thought I could do, and how he’d do things to me if I tried…  I told him exactly what I was going to do, which was call the SPCA, and walked into the house and did so.  An agent came out the next day, interviewed the man and took the dog away.  I don’t kid myself that that dog was ever again fit for being a family dog, but at least he lived the rest of his days, and hopefully they weren’t short, without that meaningless and terrible pain from the one being on the planet who supposedly loved him.  I remember walking back into the house that day, and my daughter was obviously upset.  She asked me if the bad man was going to come hurt me.  I told her no, although I did wonder about retaliation, but as I cried about that dog, I also told her that regardless of our fears it was our responsibility to stand up for our convictions and to stop harm where we could.

I’ve done things like that for as long as I can remember.  I’m just not a "stand by" type person I guess.  Many people have criticized me, told me that I put myself in danger, took terrible risks.  I don’t think so.  I’ve tried to stay somewhat safe, and if I was ever in a situation where I could have been seriously hurt, I didn’t directly go after someone, but instead called 911 or helped in some other way.

The last few weeks there have been more instances of standing up, not being the bystander, not thinking "oh someone else will stop/take care of it".  Two weeks ago a friend and I were driving somewhere and as we waited for the stoplight there was an old man with a cloth bag standing at the corner waiting to cross with the light.  The light turned for the traffic across from us to turn left, right into the path of the man who would be crossing the street.  For some reason he picked then to try to cross.  People were very confused and of course stopped etc, but after he wandered back and forth to the sidewalk to avoid them (sort of), he finally walked back out into the crosswalk and started picking up invisible objects off the ground.  He was clearly not aware of the fact that he was in the middle of a busy street.  It was terrifying to watch as he wandered about the lanes, trying to do whatever it was he thought he was doing, with absolutely no awareness that cars were whizzing by within feet of him.  It would have only taken a few steps in the wrong direction and it is doubtful a car going by could have stopped in time.  As we turned the corner and went by him, both Mel and I watched in horror.  I looked at her, she looked at me, and I pulled my purse out of my bag and called 911.  If a man about to be hit by a car is not a 911 emergency, then there is something wrong with the world.  We reported it.  I have no idea if they found him, or if he wandered off by the time the police arrived (I sincerely hope not).  But while it felt strange to call 911, we both knew it was the right thing.  That same conviction of values from Mel made it easier.  It is scary to do something like that.  It makes us feel strange to do the right thing…  But just like in HS, my closest friends strengthen that conviction of doing the right thing.  Which is why they are close to me.

The third incident was last night.  This time I was alone so it was harder for me.  I was sitting in the traffic at a light that had just turned red, and in the lane next to me a sedan plowed into the back of a pickup.  It was a heavy duty pickup, the work kind, and it didn’t appear damaged at all.  The car on the other hand was completely smashed in front.  I looked over, incredibly grateful that nothing had happened outside of that single lane, and saw there was actually smoke coming out from the steering wheel of the man’s car.  He must have had his seat belt on because I didn’t see any damage on him either, although I hardly had time.  The pickup pulled over like you are supposed to do, and the car took complete advantage and sped away.  I couldn’t believe it.  Hearing about hit and runs is one thing.  Seeing one is another.  I looked at the car, and memorized as much as I could of it (I’m terrible about car names, makes, models), and then memorized the license plate.  I also watched and saw where he turned off the street we were on.  And again, I called 911.  I gave them all the information I had.  I sincerely hope that it helps the man in the pickup.  With the force of the crash, I am sure that he probably got injured some, likely whiplash or something else.  There was no squealing of tires, so I don’t think the car even applied its brakes.  The speed had to have been between 30-40 mph (the speed limit is 40 and mostly people go faster).  I am still really surprised that the guy in the car was able to drive away.

So in 2-3 weeks I have seen something and called 911.  Concerned citizen?  Am I going to get a visit from the police wondering why I seem to keep needing to call?  Am I genuinely helpful?  Am I Gladys Cravitz?  Again when I talked to B he assured me I’d done the right thing.  But in a world where we are taught to mind our own business, and that things like this are nosy, it’s very hard not to feel guilty. 

And then I think about that statement, and I realize how angry that makes me.  How fucked up is our society where I feel BAD for helping someone?  Where I feel like I might be questioned by the police because I’ve used 911 too much…  If you read this and you are like minded, please leave me comments.  I want to know that B, Mel and I aren’t the only ones out there who care about making a difference, who want to help people.  It feels very depressing, and very lonely.

Technorati Tags: Morality, Society, Bystander, Help