to be kind

My friend Kelly keeps an interesting blog under the name TzviaLane, a hebraicization of her Celtic monicker. Kelly loves to dissect morality, and in her latest entry speculates,

We need to be taught, overtly and carefully, when and how to hurt people. Not how to be mean, not to how to hurt unnecessarily, but to, when it is appropriate and necessary, to handle the hurting of someone, to do so as humanely and healthily as possible for all concerned.

She gives an example she's used with me in conversation:

In explaining to me why he didn't call and explain to a woman he had been dating that he no longer wanted to see her, an acquaintance told me, "I don't like to hurt people." And I thought, "No, you just don't like to be there when it happens."

To paraphrase, I think, Curly of the Three Stooges, I resemble that remark. I've done the falling silent routine, and not only long ago, sorry to say. Since Kelly's pointed it out for me, I've tried to do better, and sometimes succeeded.

In the breaking-up example, there is no way to proceed without wounding. I have done the honest thing. None of those I was frank with evinced any gratitude for my directness.

One of them cried. We fell back together again some time later, and when we parted for good I suppose it was easier for both of us to take the honest option.

One of them wanted a post-breakup face-to-face, at which she told me that her friends all thought I was "just another frightened man." I think that was the purpose of the tete-a-tete. That wasn't pleasant, but knowing I was proceeding consciously eased the sting. I could have replied, truthfully, that I was never that into her in the first place, but that would have exceeded the bounds of conscientious hurting. She had to sting back, and in the long run I'm glad she got her lick in.

And in the third case, fairly early on (no sex yet) I told her that I didn't want to hang out with her any more, because we didn't seem to have anything to talk about. She said, "You can't stop seeing someone because of that!" And I thought, and possibly gently said, "But I am."

[That (no sex yet) reminds me of something my dear lezzie friend Lis once said to me. I told her about an abortive drink-date with a woman I later learned was a flake stuck on a maniac. Lis said, "At least you didn't sleep with her." And I said, "Boy, you really don't understand men at all."]

Kelly's greater point, tho, is that what could be considered cruel acts are a necessary part of self-defense. As somebody who learned late just where his own boundaries are, I agree.

She even proposes that we teach children how to be judiciously cruel. It's an intriguing idea. My brother and his wife are very conscientious about teaching their kids to treat others with respect. I can see what a difficult and vigilant process it is. I don't know if there's time and nuance enough to teach them how and when to be cruel. Perhaps that is what other children are for.