WAG - I wasn't me! It was th...
Oh yeah, it was me.
I feel weird waving at an one-armed man.
No, this isn't a Mitch Hedberg joke. Well… there is a Hedberg joke about that (you can find it at the sixth quote down at this site. Silly asides besides, this isn’t some cheap setup, though I’ll admit, this meditation isn’t going to run too deep.
Walking to class, I spotted my old Cross Cultural Journalism teaching assistant. Though the class is seemingly revamped every semester (over half a dozen professors have taught it since I came to campus), the main goal of the class is to help journalists be more understanding of the greater world around them.
It was an... interesting class. I know the intent of the class is solid, but teaching something like that can be difficult. There were days were there were discussions that really made me think. There were also days where the Politically Correct Police had jurisdiction.
My T.A. did a great job, and helped lead some of the discussions, which were some of the best parts of the class. One thing that most people noticed about him more than his leadership skills, however, was the fact he only had one arm.
He had an accident when he was younger and has had to go through life with the knowledge that physical characteristic will be noted by everyone around him. He talked about the fact that he did wrestling in high school, and every article that mentioned him highlighted his disability.
Though he was open about it, many people chose not to point it out. This was typically a conscious decision. The best example of that was when we were talking about non-specific criminal descriptions. If all you know about the suspect is that they are “6 foot tall, 180 pound, and a black man,” that’s not going to help you find them and probably will do more harm by reinforcing stereotypes in people. I’ll admit I’ve seen more of the previous descriptions than bulletins asking about a “150 pound, 5 foot six, white male.”
My T.A. then quipped, of course some people could never get away with a crime. I mean, think about me, he said.
At that moment, I’d guarantee the same line ran through everyone’s head: “It wasn’t me! It was the one armed man!”
Several knowing looks darted across the class, but no one dared to say it out loud.
I have learned a lot since then. I have met many more people, I’ve added to my knowledge of different cultures and I’ve become more confident in my personal conduct.
And yet, as I spotted my T.A. from a distance, and my class experience at the Hedberg joke ran through my head, I wasn’t sure how I should act.
Then, it happened. He waved first and asked me how I was doing.
I quickly raised my hand in return. We quickly commented about the weather and wished each other a good day.
Isn’t it amazing how some ethical crises arise and are put to rest in a few seconds? “Paper or plastic,” “Do I say hi to this quasi-acquaintance,” “Should I shake this my friend’s friend’s hand,” and “Does the pizza guy deserve a one dollar or two dollar tip,” are all questions were briefly struggle over. A moment later, they are resolved.
To account the conundrums often take an infinite more amount of time than what was originally spent muddling through the original query.
At least I’ll remember it’s okay to wave next time, and more importantly, it gave me something to post about.
Yeah, these may be some small victories I’m celebrating, but some days I think they deserve heralding! So said the person who decided it was okay to wave at a one armed man.
'No_back_handed_compliment'
