Sharing Goodness in a Dark World

It's relatively easy to become cynical, frustrated, jaded, etc. by all of the bad things we see not only taking place in foreign countries and across our nation but also in our communities and in our daily interactions with others. The Angry White Loner is certainly not immune from it and, admittedly, has shown it from time to time here on his blog.

Passive-aggressivism has long been one of my defense mechanisms. As I look back, it began to develop when I was bullied not once but twice in two different grades at two different junior high schools. Though I sometimes feel as if the compulsion or tendency is leaving me, I am reminded on occasion that it is still very much with me. This is not an excuse but rather an admission that it is a demon I still have to fight.

We all have them. They come in many shapes and sizes.

We are living in difficult times—some might even call them the "latter days." Prophets have both warned us about these days but have also reminded us that those who have faith and who are prepared shall not fear in the face of it all.

Just yesterday, I had a conversation with Angry White Brother in which I expressed a degree of frustration at some of the negativity I had encountered during the course of the week.

To attempt to make a long story short: Five years ago, football player from local university AWB graduated from and which we both support made some unfortunate comments about the arch-rival's school and fans. During the week, the news broke that said football player, currently retired from playing football himself and an assistant high school football coach in Arizona, had been arrested for shoplifting and had also been found in possession of illegal, addictive narcotics. The fallout from this breaking story included a number—not most, but some—of rabid fans of arch-rival school jumping on the opportunity to again label this person the devil incarnate and to use such words as "karma," "just desserts," and (I'm paraphrasing here) "neener neener." Some of the fans of the school AWB and I support, in turn, engaged some of these people in a battle of words.

Not a war of words, but most definitely a battle.

We men and our sports rivalries. We take it far too seriously—myself included. For some, it is a matter as serious as the Ebola virus or world hunger, which sadly are two very real problems faced by certain corners of the globe.

On behalf of my entire gender, ladies, I sincerely apologize for what utter dweebs we make ourselves look like sometimes.

Well, I couldn't make that long story short after all. To quote Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride, however, "let me sum up" by stating that, in concluding our discussion over my frustration, AWB was the voice of reason and shared with me two simple words:

"Share goodness."

There's always going to be people who take trivial matters such as sports far too seriously, he said. There's nothing we can do about them. They're always going to be there. Both cockroaches and people who take sports far too seriously are the two species pretty well guaranteed to survive a nuclear holocaust (that last part was the AWL's editorial comment).

Nevertheless, AWB continued, we can combat all of the negativity swirling around out there by, much of the time, not even addressing it at all and instead heeding a recent call by a man I hold to be an Apostle of the Lord, Elder David A. Bednar, to help flood social media with positive messages about things that, rather than tear others down, instead inspire, uplift, and enlighten.

We can #ShareGoodness with the people around us.

Earlier today, a friend (thanks, Steve) posted this tweet on Twitter, which he retweeted from Scott Hanselman: "Other people's success does not diminish your own. Help people, don't hold them back."

Conversely, I might add: Other people's failures, mistakes, or sins do not elevate you nor anyone else. Forgive, just as you hope to be forgiven. After all, we are all beggars in the sight of God. Give others the benefit of the doubt.

With Six Eyes, You Get Eggroll

Not to sound too much like a stand-up comedian—though I'm probably going to end up sounding like one anyway—but today's topic is sunglasses: What is the deal?

I've been trying to figure out why sunglasses trouble me so. Perhaps this has something to do with the fact that I already wear glasses and have had them since high school, and if I tried to put on yet another pair of lenses to keep the summer sun out of my already nearsighted eyes, then that would give would-be bullies an excuse to call me "six eyes" or something of that sort. That's why I prefer to wear hats.

I can already achieve the "Six Eyes" effect any time I go to a 3D movie. Additionally, that's also a lot of weight to be putting on your poor nose.

Other people wearing sunglasses also make me nervous. (Obviously, I'm not referring here to someone like, say, like Stevie Wonder.) Why? Mainly, it's the fact that I cannot see their eyeballs. I don't have any idea how they're looking at me when they're wearing those things. Like if they're rolling their eyes at me if I bring up something like Star Wars or "Weird Al" or any one of dozens of other topics.

And what's up with people who wear sunglasses indoors and on the tops of their heads all day long, nestled in their hair? Do they not have pockets or purses or a car to keep them in? Is it really comfortable to wear sunglasses on top of your head throughout the entire three-hour church block?

Perhaps strangest of all are those who wear sunglasses at night. Unless, of course, the point of this is to watch people when they weave and then breathe their story lines, or to keep track of the visions in their eyes. In that case, don't switch the blade on the guy in shades.

I'm jiggy with that.

The Angry White Loner's High School Reunion

Last night, I attended my high school reunion, which was held at the Little America hotel in downtown Salt Lake City. As many high school reunions go, it was an event I both looked forward to and, at the same time, dreaded.

How many years has it been since you graduated from high school? you ask?

I can't make myself say how many years it has been, unbelievable as the number is to me. I just can't make myself type it. But we were the Bountiful High School class of 1993. I'll let you do the math.

In spite of my apprehension about attending, two main ideas stood out:

1) Being one of the few single people at my class reunion was not as bad as I feared it would be. I met some old friends right at the check-in desk, including Andy and Scott, and they agreed to let me sit at their table, get to know their spouses, and catch up with them and their families' lives. Many others also went out of their way to talk to me and to say "hello."

Included among that group of people was one of my seventh-grade tormentors, whom I referenced not long ago here on this blog in my review of the movie Bully. He was the one to approach my table and to initiate a conversation. Not only that, but he seemed genuinely interested in my life and spent 10 minutes chatting with me as if we were old friends.

I want to believe there is such a thing as water under the bridge. Perhaps the hatchet can finally be buried on that matter. I have hope that it was last night or soon will be.

I even had a good, long talk with someone who served as a studentbody officer during our senior year but whom I did not know very well back then. I have a knack for remembering faces and names, and recognizing that person and saying "hello" was all it took for us to become friends.

2) Some things remain exactly the same, while other things have changed.

By and large, people sat at tables and snapped photos with their old high school cliques and social groups. Some people have changed very little physically and were instantly recognizable. Old friends were the same good-natured people I have always known. The girl who (unbelievably) agreed to go with me to the senior prom is still drop-dead gorgeous.

The flip side of that thought is that time and experience seem to be the great equalizer. No matter how popular or important some people thought they were in high school - and that is one of the few unfortunate things about that time in our lives - things such as baldness, grey hair, *ahem* slowed metabolism, and other signs of getting older, as well as challenges and heartache, seem to have affected most everyone to one degree or another.

As the saying goes, into each life a little rain must fall.

Overall, it was a very positive experience. But I can wait for the next reunion.

People's Worst Moments

"If you're gonna get mad at me every time I do something stupid, then I guess I'll just have to stop doing stupid things." -Homer Simpson

Do you ever find words, be they oral or written, coming out of your mouth - you don't really know where they're coming from, or they wouldn't be spoken/written by someone like you if you just sat and thought about them rationally for a moment or two first - and find you're regretting them the instant they are uttered? Perhaps just as bad, do you find yourself not saying or doing the things that a trusted friend or colleague would expect you to do? To the friend, the feeling of letdown or betrayal is the same whether these are sins of commission or omission on your part.

I had this very flaw in my own character brought to my attention just last night. I was reprimanded by a friend, someone who trusted me, and the thing is that I deserved every word of it.

She was right, and I was wrong - 100 percent.

I've said it before: I'm a work in progress. I still have a ways to go. And yesterday I learned that the distance I need to travel is still a long ways off. Sometimes, there is just no excuse that isn't a total cop-out; an all-out apology is necessary.

I doubt whether any of us wants to be defined by his or her worst moment. I hope that this friend will not remember by my careless actions or, rather, lack of positive actions, but instead by the good moments we have shared together.

Do you find yourself recalling someone's worst moment(s) when that person's name is mentioned, or you run into that person at the grocery store 15 years later, or whatever the case may be? I have realized that I still do, as much as I try to let go of negative experiences from the past. I felt that way not long ago when one of my seventh-grade tormentors, several years after the fact, made a friend request on Facebook.

Consider the Apostle Thomas, largely referred to as "doubting Thomas" by members of the Christian faith. He is someone who, I think rather unfairly, is certainly remembered by his worst moment. Nevertheless, a wise institute teacher once pointed out a much lesser-known reference to Thomas in the Gospel of John.

Jesus had just learned that Lazarus had died, and He was preparing to return to Judea to see His beloved friend. Concerned that the Jews had recently tried to stone the Savior, however, most of the Apostles warned Him against making the trip. That's when Thomas spoke up and said:

"Let us also go, that we may die with him" (John 11:16).

It sure sounds like Thomas isn't so "doubting" at this point, does it? Like Thomas, we all have our bad moments. Hopefully, they do not outshine the bad ones.

I suppose this is all just to say "thank you" to all of my family members and friends who love and support me in spite of my errors and mistakes, who give me second and third and fourth chances and are patient with me as I work my way through "this vale of tears" (Hymns, no. 116). I don't always do the right thing, but I hope that, on occasion, I can. I hope to return the favor to you.

The Condescension of Friends

As a follow-up to my last post, which was on the topic of bullies, today I'd like to address another form of bullying: condescension.

For those who may not be familiar with the term, condescension means, for lack of a better sentence or a simple definition: "I'm better than you, I'm smarter than you, and, doggone it, I'll go out of my way to point that out to you as often as I can, you moron."

Those who are condescending to you may not necessarily be smarter than you are, but they act like it regardless of that fact. Not surprisingly, when I conducted a Google search for images relating to the topic of condescension, several photos of President Barack Hussein Obama came up. I'm not kidding.

To back up their vast array of knowledge, the condescending trot out their college diplomas and say, "Look at this, stupid!"; they quote from a scholarly book no one has ever heard of except for them and their best friends, who happen to run MENSA; they reference a random class they once took a decade ago and were so immediately skilled at that the professor was fired, and they stepped up and began to teach; or they may even resort to name dropping about the famous folks or celebrities they pal around with.

The motto of the condescending person may as well be, as Dave Barry once wrote: "Everybody has their opinion, and yours is wrong."

Most people who fit the above description of the condescending person are not people whom I would want to be nor am I friends with. Naturally, these people should be avoided like the plague.

It's a much more subtle thing, however, when condescension appears in the form of your own circle of friends. These aren't people who necessarily maintain a friendship with you because of how well you get along or how much time you spend together currently but are nonetheless affiliated because you went to school or worked with them, or you lived in the same neighborhood growing up, or you both happened to be members of a memorable college or institute class, or the like. Past shared experiences of one kind or another bond you as "friends" even though they may do less-than-friendly things to you in the present, such as point out in front of a group what an idiot you are; write things on your Facebook wall that may attempt to be funny, pithy, or clever but come across only as rude and insensitive; single out the flaws in your creative efforts while giving little (or, in many cases, zero) positive feedback or encouragement; and on and on.

To be fair to people who fall into this category, I don't think they mean to do it, or at least they don't recognize exactly what the effects of their behavior are. To paraphrase Cole Sear (Haley Joel Osment) in M. Night Shyamalan's The Sixth Sense: "I see condescending people. Walking around like regular people. They only see what they want to see. They don't know they're condescending."
Now, I'm not saying that it isn't good to be smart, to have a good education, to read a lot of books, or anything like that. What I am saying is that it is more important to be charitable than to be smart, because it is possible to be both - but charity is the greatest. Condescending people tend to mix up the order of these two qualities, putting being smart above being charitable.

For an example to illustrate this point, I think back to when I was called to be deacon's quorum president in my ward at age 13. I was set apart to this position but was not given any sort of training as to what a deacon's quorum president should do or how he ought to act. At that vulnerable young age, I stood up to conduct my first deacon's quorum meeting and made some announcements before sitting down in my chair. One of the counselors in the bishopric, who was sitting in on the meeting, then proceeded to lecture me - in front of the entire quorum - about what I had just done wrong and how a deacon's quorum president should act and pointed out multiple things I should have done differently, all to my great embarrassment.

This man wasn't wrong in the sense that I could have done a better job or that I had not presented myself well, but to do it in front of the entire quorum, to me, was not only condescending but very hurtful and wrong. It was the kind of thing that makes some people drop out of church attendance and go inactive.

In the Book of Mormon, Jacob spoke of those who “when they are learned they think they are wise . . . wherefore, their wisdom is foolishness and it profiteth them not." He also added: “But to be learned is good if they hearken unto the counsels of God (2 Nephi 9:28-29)."

I got over my little episode as deacon's quorum president. I hope that the counselor in the bishopric did, too. I've since met many people and had friends come and go, and I've known many humble people, as well as a few who, like the aforementioned well-intentioned but poorly executing counselor in the bishopric, were also condescending and who are now people I largely try to avoid. I'm always most impressed by those who really are far more educated than me and have every right to be condescending but who don't act like it, whatever office or position they may hold. Instead, they choose to be humble and are down-to-Earth enough to speak to me as an equal and on my level.

Movie Review: "Bully"

Today, I hope you'll allow me to talk about a serious issue.

Yesterday, the relatively new documentary Bully arrived in the mail from Netflix, and I watched the film last night with a great deal of interest.

As someone who endured my share of bullying in grade school - especially junior high school - I must admit that this movie affected me deeply, and I found myself relating to many of the experiences shared by the five different stories of bullying that were presented. One is of a boy who was born prematurely and is now taunted by his classmates for the birth defects he suffered as a baby; another is of a girl who has had enough of her bullies, pulls a gun on them on the school bus, threatens to shoot them, and then spends the next several months locked up in juvenile detention; and a third tale is of a girl who has come out as a lesbian and is then shunned and avoided by most people she comes in contact with (a type of emotional or psychological bullying).


An additional story, and perhaps the most poignant of the five, is of a bullied teen who is not around to speak for himself and whose parents, siblings, and friends, instead, speak for him. Why is he not around to be interviewed for the film? Because he was hazed and made to feel worthless on a daily basis, up to the point that he made the tragic decision to take his own life at age 17. There is even a reference in the film to an 11-year-old boy - 11 years old! - who, very sadly, has taken the same route.

What exactly was it that happened to the AWL in junior high? you ask? Without going into too many details, in order to protect the guilty, I was made fun of in the locker room because of my eczema while in the seventh grade. Not only did I find myself having to adjust to life as a junior high student that year, dealing with no recess and lockers and going from classroom to classroom, but I also had to take showers in gym class. Those who shared the lockers adjacent to me noticed my skin rash when I changed clothes every day and soon nicknamed me "rash boy." They did other hurtful things such as hiding my clothes when I returned from showering. Finally, I was saved by a doctor's note that excused me from showering, and I could change clothes when my bullies were, thankfully, in the showers.

Then, in the ninth grade, my five siblings and I rode the bus to school each day, as we all attended a private elementary/junior high/high school together in Guaynabo, Puerto Rico. For some reason unknown to us, the others on the bus - comprised of high school and junior high students - decided to gang up on us and make fun of us both individually and collectively each bus ride, finding whatever excuse they could to do so. The worst part of it was that these were people in our own LDS ward that we also had to see on Sundays at church; the ones who should have been our greatest allies were, instead, our biggest enemies. They didn't mind picking on us, whatever their motivations may have been, and the fact that my youngest sibling was then only in kindergarten did not deter them from their cruel actions.

Yes, they were okay with taunting me, but they were also okay with harassing a six-year-old, too. My best friends from that time in my life were not in my ward but were of other faiths and were my classmates at school.

Back to the movie: It raises some interesting points, the most important of which is bullying others emotionally, mentally, socially, or physically based on their physique, body, sexual orientation, religion, race, or for any other reason is not acceptable. In other words, "don't be a jerk," and teach your kids, be they your own kids or those in your classroom, to be treat others as they want to be treated (something old fashioned we like to call the Golden Rule).

Another important point: Report bullying when it happens so that it can be dealt with immediately. Bullies not only make their targets feel worthless but also make them feel like tattletales or "momma's boys" when they tell an adult - be it a parent, teacher, or principal - about what is going on. As a result, many of them tell no one and suffer in silence for an extended period of time, and that's how I, too, was made to feel and what ended up happening in both of the examples from my own life.

Thirdly, if you're someone who is a witness to bullying, stand up and make your voice heard. Bullies tend to act in groups and not necessarily alone, following the mob mentality. If one friend stands up and says that bullying is not okay, others will follow. Peer pressure can be a positive thing, as well as a negative one. Especially in the seventh grade, I desperately (and silently) hoped one of my classmates would say something or come to my aid, but it did not happen for several weeks. Teachers and administrators look out for bullying and sincerely want to nip it in the bud, but their eyes and ears can't be everywhere at once.

Is this why the AWL is angry and a loner? you now ask? First of all, I'm neither of those things today, since some of you have asked me about it, and "Angry White Loner" is just a name. Those experiences of being bullied affected me for a time, true, but as time passed, those bullies grew up, and most of them have turned out to be good, decent people. A couple of them even issued friend requests to me on Facebook in the last few years.

One of the kids in the movie points out that those who are bullied end up wanting to hurt others as a way of feeling better about things or of coping, and I'll admit that I went through that stage, too. Fortunately, that stage also passed, and I grew out of it.

Junior high is hell, and I, for one, know it for a fact. But, it, too, shall pass for everyone who has to go through it.

As a final note: Though the film is rated PG-13, there is one scene in which a camera captures a bully uttering three or four f-bombs in succession, and they are not bleeped out. Like a similar scene in the otherwise brilliant Waiting for Guffman, it is over quickly. That scene aside, Bully is a must-see for parents, administrators, teachers, and kids (at least those in junior high) alike.