Josh* described growing up as a rebel. No dad around, mom worked two jobs to keep food on the table, so Josh was pretty much on his own. Mom tried to guide him, but in high school there was drinking and then drugs and legal trouble. Now he’s in his early thirties, has never had a driver’s license, and weeps openly about how much he disappointed his mother.
He’s working hard to turn things around. I’ve known Josh for almost a year and it’s hard to recognize him as the same man. He still speaks to his mom a couple of times each weeks. He knows she’s proud of his efforts, but he struggles to lay down the burden of guilt.
I listen. I try to understand. But I can’t know just how he feels.
(*In case you’re wondering, I changed Josh’s name and the details of his story)
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We all have a natural inclination to assume others see the world as we see it. So when they make choices that seem irrational, we assume they lack persistence, morals or values.
It’s much more likely that they’re seeing from a different perspective.
If so, we can choose one of two paths:
Ignore the difference. Move forward as though nothing’s wrong, and continue to penalize (or simply eliminate) those who refuse to adopt or conform to the majority view.
Choose empathy. Empathy means trying to understand what the other person sees and feels. It’s not sympathy and it’s not making excuses. It’s trying to see through the other guy’s eyes, walk a bit in her shoes.
Empathy also doesn’t mean agreement. We’ve somehow developed this weird notion that understanding differing worldviews means we have to agree with them. But the only way to mend broken relationships is to invest the time it takes to truly understand the other’s perspective.
You likely can’t imagine making some of the choices my friend Josh made. I can’t and looking back, he can’t imagine it either because he’s living in a different world.
But Josh would tell you that, at the time, his choices made sense. We’re free to dismiss that as crazy, but we’re refusing to see the world he viewed. And here’s why that matters.
Thousands of kids grow up perceiving the same world, which means they’re likely to make many of the same harmful decisions. We can keep trapping them in failing schools, abandoning them to streets ruled by gangs, and waiting for their inevitable involvement with the criminal justice system. And then we can try to fix them.
A few, like Josh, will make it by God’s grace. The majority won’t.
Or we can try to understand what it’s like to walk in the other guy’s shoes.
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[…] Yesterday I wrote about my friend Josh. […]