Not so close, and impersonal

Yesterday, as I stood beside the open driver's side door of my car watching the scene unfold, I was reminded that, for the sake of safety, individual men lacking any mitigating circumstance are looked upon with a leery eye when interacting in public.

I was in the Costco parking lot, making my way through the sea of parked vehicles to the one recognized as my own. An older woman and young boy (presumably grandmother and grandson, for the sake of story simplicity) were stopped beside an overburdened shopping cart right behind where my car was parked. The boy was crying and holding his legs, and the grandmother was worriedly asking if he was okay, and where it hurt. From what she was saying (things like: "I told you to hold" and "I thought you were going to stay on") I gathered that he was riding along the outside of the cart, but stepped--or slipped--off, and the cart rolled over his legs, pinning him down momentarily.

She saw me reach my car beside them and gave me a look that said, "I know you're leaving, we're going as quickly as we can." Wanting to reassure her under the circumstances, I told her, "Take your time." Not very tactful, but I hoped it got my point across.

As it appeared more and more that the boy needed attention, I stepped forward and asked the woman if I could help with anything. She shook her head poignantly and continued urging the boy on. I took her meaning without delay and returned to the driver's door of my car.

As I sat in the car waiting patiently for them to continue past, a second cart rolled by, piloted by a couple slightly older than me. The woman of the pair expressed her dismay at the struggling boy and offered her assistance, which the grandmother took graciously.

I looked on from the suddenly isolated security of my car as the grandmother helped the boy along while the second woman assumed command of the first shopping cart; her husband drove their own cart away to their car.

As I was brought up to help when I can, this experience was disappointing for me, although I can't at all say I'm disappointed in the grandmother's responses. As the circumstance played out, I was by myself, near my vehicle, and entirely unknown to her. A strange person offering help is a rarity; and given the headlines news every evening, a man offering to help surely must have an ulterior, and most likely malevolent, motive.

And what of those mitigating circumstances I mentioned in the beginning? I've noticed that when I have my son and or daughter in tow, or are out and about with my wife, or better still, all four of us are together, then I am at once more readily approachable to others. Parents will make "parent" comments about their child's behavior while standing in a store line. Dad's will share empathetic expressions as they pass. Mom's will happily agree when you offer to pick up the bottle that just got lobbed at you from the stroller.

It's truly unfortunate that we cannot take everyone's actions at face value, thanks in no small part to those who have fooled others with acts of apparent kindness. In the parking lot of Costco, I meant only to offer help, but who's to say that the grandma looked at me and imagined the news that evening, with my neighbor being interviewed: "He always seemed like a nice man. I never would have expected he'd do this sort of thing. It's really a shame..."

And to tell you the truth, for the sake of my family, I wouldn't say I want to change that common social suspicion. By all means, listens to your gut and observe your surroundings. Better for the grandmother to be wrong about me than to be wrong about the guy who would harm them.

This isn't a very existential entry, is it. There might be a deeper meaning on the social construct and our relationships within a community, and we can all work to make it better... if you look really hard.

Leia Mais…