I went to my local Humane Society's animal shelter this afternoon
to buy yearly licenses for my dogs. Both of my furry friends came to our family
from that shelter, and I'm grateful that the people there care about animals. By
coincidence, I read an article yesterday
that pointed out how, sometimes in their concentration on caring for animals,
shelter workers lose sight of caring for humans. I didn't expect to see that in
action so quickly.
Besides the employees, there were four other people in the shelter
store when I walked in. A couple looking at dog toys and pet supplies discussed
their purchase choices. At the counter, two teenagers, a girl and a boy, waited
to talk to someone. The girl politely told me I could go ahead.
While the young woman behind the counter chatted with me and
completed my dog license purchase, an older woman who seemed to be in charge
came to the counter. The teenagers told her they were there to get their
community service papers signed to show that they had completed the assigned
hours. With a voice full of exasperation and disdain, the woman said, "It
takes 24 hours," and the teens looked at each other in confusion. She
repeated, "We don't fill them out right away, you have to give us 24 hours
and then come back and get them. It was in the rules on the papers you signed.
The person who fills out the papers doesn't work on Saturday."
The boy’s voice rose a bit. "Then we can pick them up Monday?
Because I have to hand this in to my probation officer on Monday." The
woman behind the counter said, "No. You can't pick them up Monday because
we're closed on Monday. You can pick them up Tuesday."
The woman's words were acidic and her attitude matched. I felt
myself begin to tense in empathy with the youngsters. As they started out the
door, dejected, I stopped them and said, "Tell your P.O. what happened and
that you have to pick up the paper on Tuesday. You will probably be allowed to
bring it in as soon as you get it." The young man nodded and they left.
I wandered the store for a few minutes, wanting to say something
but not knowing what. Then an older man came in and tersely spoke to the woman
in charge." My son told me he can't get his paper signed today," he
said. The woman repeated the rules to the father. As he briskly walked to the
door, I stopped him and told him what I had said to his son, and then shared,
"My son has to do community service, too." The father thanked me as we both left.
I sat in my car, not ready to leave. I didn't feel I could walk
away from this experience without acting.
I grabbed a five dollar bill to take in for a donation, then went
inside, gave the counter person my cash, and with my heart pounding I spoke to
the older woman. "I just have to say that when it comes to community
service workers, kindness goes a long way," I said, "I'm sure you
have to deal with a lot of them."
"Yes, I do," she said, "and they sign a paper that
has the rules on it. They should know the rules."
"I understand that," I said, "but when you're
dealing with young people, or people who are not as educated, or who don't know
how to understand a contract, a lot of times they don't read the paper they're
signing. They just do what they're told to do."
She went on about the inconvenience of community service workers wanting
their report papers signed when the shelter was understaffed, and I listened. I
told her, "A lot of those people just need things explained to them,"
and then I thanked her for allowing those on probation to work off community
service hours there. Done with putting in my two cents, I left the building, still angry, but satisfied that I had not spoken in anger.
I hope she thinks about how she talks to people who are already
down. I hope she stops kicking them while they're on the floor. I'm sure (at
least I hope I'm sure) that she wouldn't do that to a dog or a cat, or she
wouldn't be working at an animal shelter.
I hope my words, spoken with respect, help her think about how she
treats those who she may have thought of as less valuable than her.
If you've ever loved someone who has made a mistake and has had to
pay for that mistake, or watched someone you care about struggle to make things
right when their life has turned the wrong way, you know how hard it is to also
see others spew disrespect and judgment at the person who is trying to fix
things. It's horrible, it's exasperating, and it can make you want to commit a
crime yourself to defend the efforts of the one you love.
It's good that we don't resort to that, since we all know that two
wrongs DON'T make a right. If only the disrespectful judging folks would
realize that their caustic behavior is the second WRONG and it will never be
right to behave that way.
No matter what the facts are of a situation, if you speak in a
nasty tone to someone, you are wrong. You can have all the right information
and still be incorrect. The failure is in your delivery and in your integrity
as a caring human being, which is something important to society and to each of
us individually.
We all make mistakes, and some of us make bigger ones than others.
I'd like to think that the majority of us understand that most faults don't
have to scar us for life, and that we don't deserve others to treat us like
garbage because they have not made a mistake like ours.
I'm willing to bet that we all understand the Golden Rule:
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And the next time that
woman at the shelter deals with someone who is trying to atone for their
errors, I hope she remembers her own mistakes and responds with compassion.
It all begins with an example. Let that example be kindness.
