December has come as quick as the flip of the calendar. Ive finished this semester’s classes and will be glued to the dining table for the next ten days to study. It’s almost time for a break. I chat with the professor outside of class like a peer and know that I can only do this a bit longer.
There is comfort fitting in with your cohort and the evaluations of tests I hate.
Students should just pass or not pass.
* * * *
The TV static is loud in my living room as we try to watch the video with the groupies = My affectionate term for my church life group. It’s called “shopping” by Nooma but really its about anger and what we do with it, and right now I want to smash the DVD player because it won’t stop humming with static and I find the irony of my emotions unsettling.
The line up at Costco that won’t merge, reaching for the last jar of lemon juice before the women next to you, trying to park at the mall. It’s out there. And even if you hide out in your house and choose to not participate in the festivities of the season of gift buying and decorating, and get togethers, you know that you have a lava that just burns.
We would be consumed with what matters and that driver who cut us off or the girl who smacks her food in the lounge
where I try to work; these would just become little annoyances not anger worthy issues.
But I hesitate to talk of this because people with such causes have sat and pointed out the foibles of the angry while failing to see that even North Americans have needs. Be they first world or not. They just hide so nicely under the mask of self-sufficiency and control.
The most needy in North America are under the age of 18 appearing as spoiled, techno savvy vampire lovers.
But i think…
It’s ok to spoil a child with time.
It’s ok to go shopping with them and buy them a hot chocolate.
It’s ok to text them about THAT boy or THAT girl.
It’s ok to cheer for them at their sporting event or clap after their band performance.
It’s ok to put a present under the tree for them.
Being angry at a generation for having it all is ALSO misplaced. Let’s be angry for the kids who live with a dysfunctional family and try to understand rules in mom’s house compared to dad’s. Have patience for the teenager who needs someone to pour into them passion for a cause but no one seems to care. Be angry at the organizers, leaders, coaches, teachers of our kids that only reward adult favours yet not the merit of kids trying their best.
I say all these things with the finger pointed in because I too get confused in the busyness of life that I don’t always see that behind the facade of makeup and ipods there is adolescent angst. Kids in Africa aren’t the only one starving.
North American kids are starving for righteousness and fairness and integrity in their adults.
A challenge hung heavy in the room as we promised ourselves over the next two weeks to commit to monitoring our misplaced anger. Could we do it? Dare we do it?
When you’re cut off on the highway and you grip your steering wheel tighter, take a breath and ask yourself to take that feeling that bubbles and put it where it will do some good.
Might as well go for a coffee and a hot chocolate with someone needing a hand, or just a little time.