Yesterday I was shopping at one of the giant American superstores for a few frivolous items (whiffle balls, a bike basket). While I was there, casually browsing an aisle in the sporting good section, I heard a woman next to me begin screaming at her child.
“That is it! You’re not going to get a Goddamn thing from this store! You’re not going to get SHIT from here, you worthless little shit!”
That was the most printable sentence in her tirade. She had her little boy, who was around four years old, by the arm and was shaking him like a can of spray paint. He was crying, but pretty quiet. She let him have it for a good minute. There was a moment where I thought I should intervene, but I didn’t of course, I mean, it’s not any of my business, and so I just slipped out of the aisle and made my way to the checkout counter.
Later in the evening I played a house-party in Minneapolis — a wonderful private event where 20-30 twenty-somethings got together to actively listen to an eclectic line-up of musicians. Will Tolle, Hotel San Sebastian, myself, Zoo Animal, the Fontanelles. It couldn’t have been cooler. The sound was good, the people were engaged, the atmosphere was intimate, the host, a burly and hirsute man named Gabe (how could he be named anything else?), was full of energy and ideas on how to have fun. There was a cakewalk mid-party. There was a meat raffle. We played music deep into the night.
When I finally left at close to 3AM, I could see that a rain had come through and wet the streets. As I was loading my car I started to think about the little kid from earlier in my day. I wondered what his night had been like. Had he heard music? I closed my trunk. I looked at the moon.
Maybe I should have intervened. Maybe we are all one human family. I should have asked the mother if there was something I could do to help calm her down. Her anger certainly didn’t come in the moment, the anger she was expressing came from another, larger, darker place. Who knows what her circumstances are? What is my responsibility, our responsibility, to the broader reaches of humanity? What do we do when we’re confronted with a specific instance of one human damaging another?
I’d like to know your thoughts… do you intervene, or do you do as I did, and head for the checkout counter?
Comments, please.
–Grant Dawson
