In high dungeon I mentally drafted a scathing response to yet another newspaper article continuing the preposterous myth that Abel Tasman and James Cook ‘discovered’ New Zealand.
Ready to write, I reread the original article, only to discover the author is a person who I know personally and deeply respect. In the past he gifted his time to me as a mentor, just as he has done for a large number of theatre folk. He writes voluntarily, in an effort to keep the arts in the public eye. He is kind, gentle and caring.
My pen stalled. This is not a man who I could comfortably call out publicly, and yet the dilemma remains. How easy it is to criticize a stranger’s article, yet the fire dims when the same words come from an elderly volunteer friend. Does knowing the real person somehow exonerate them, or give them a free pass?
Is this the same impetus which enables us to offer commentary on entities like sports stars, royalty and politicians, yet not chip our neighbour for burning plastic?
Maybe the fear of direct conflict, or hurting someone special, drives us to let issues ride, keep the peace, and thus quell our beliefs. Yet if we don’t react, the behaviour continues, causing ongoing damage. How can positive change occur if we chicken out of those hard discussions?
I won’t be writing that letter; there will come a moment when the point can be made without publicly shaming. And therein lies the real learning from this; on the other end of negative commentary is a real person, who deserves to be treated humanly, regardless of how off-beam their ideas may seem.
We need to raise the hard topics, but in a way that keeps everyone intact…. exactly as I hope others will do for me.
Stories for you - Enjoy! 