The McBlogger bloggers are writing about guilt this week. I have to admit that mostly, I think that guilt is a wasted emotion. Really, we all know what we should be doing, so when we choose to do something else, something that we find easier or more pleasurable, mucking it up with guilt sort of defeats the purpose. There goes the pleasure, and berating ourselves takes away the ease, too. Bah.
Sometimes, we (well, not me, but some folks) feel guilty when we eat something decadent, take a day off from work, or say no to someone’s request. To me, those things are prime examples of times when guilt is definitely a bad call. There are other circumstances that may warrant a visit from Jiminy Cricket, but even then, guilt alone is pretty much useless. If we behave badly or shirk our responsibilities and then feel crappy about it, but do nothing to rectify the situation or at the very least, vow (and stick to it) to never repeat our misdeed, we may as well have simply reveled in our wrongness.
The only time guilt has any value is when it spurs action.
The other day, I parked my butt on my comfy couch in my comfy house and watched TV. The show was a rebroadcast (though I didn’t realize that until later, when I looked for more info on the computer) from 2007, but unfortunately, I’m sure that its message is as valid and urgent today as it was four years ago. Hosted by Joan Lunden,
America’s Invisible Children documents the lives of a number of homeless children, with a specific focus on the difficulty of seeing that they get an education. These kids struggle to go to school, to get regular meals, and because they are often in different places from day to day, to keep track of their few belongings. Kids who could be mine, or yours. Kids who
are mine and yours.
I watched, speechless, as the stories unfolded. Simple poverty, dysfunction, mental illness, or parental substance abuse played roles in leaving these kids without permanent addresses, but it hardly matters how they got where they are, the bottom line is that every day, these children walk a tightrope, one misstep away from death.
Kids in America literally starve to death.
After the show, I began to research our homeless crisis, especially as it pertains to children. Some become victims of violent crimes, predatory adults, or a system that is so overloaded that even with good intentions, kids in dire need are passed right by. Some grow up to repeat the cycles of dysfunction that landed their families on the streets. Some die.
Others, though, draw from something deep within themselves and emerge strong and victorious, fueled by sheer determination to make better lives for themselves. And despite the overwhelming odds against them, they win. They finish high school and go to college. They somehow look beyond their current circumstances and focus on building their futures.
Surprisingly, these kids don’t seem to whine about their lot in life. I get a little pissy if I open my filled-to-capacity fridge and don’t see anything that looks especially yummy at that exact moment. Pitiful. While I watched the show, Jiminy Cricket showed up to deliver my well-deserved ass-kicking, which I took rather gratefully.
By the closing credits, I was sobbing.
But like I said, the only time guilt has any value is when it spurs action. My family has been involved in
The Box Project, which pairs donors with needy families, with donor families providing not only tangible goods, but support and friendship, as well. When my kids were young, they enjoyed choosing items to include in the boxes that we’d send monthly to our sister family, and my children would often exchange notes and drawings with the kids that they knew only through our ongoing correspondence. It’s a wonderful organization, but while helping one family is a good thing, unless everyone who is able reaches out, The Box Project can make a difference to only so many families each year.
What about the rest?
I’m on the lookout for opportunities to make a difference in meaningful and tangible ways. And as for Jiminy, I think he’ll see to it that I do my part.
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