Ostracism

I've spent many years observing social interactions in hallways and recess courtyards of schools. As we enter a season that traditionally is about caring, sharing and peacemaking, I want to tell a little fable.

Once upon a time there was a misfit, a 13 year old boy who was not handsome. He was overweight, had hair that looked like his mom cut it with blunt scissors, and wore thick, thick glasses that distorted his eyes. Whatever outfits the other students wore, the boy always seemed to wear something that didn't fit in; if they wore cut-offs, he wore a suit and tie, if they dressed up, he wore jeans.

He always sat alone at lunch. If someone sat at the same table, they were careful to put at least 4 or 5 feet between them. After a while he stopped going to lunch. When someone sat next to him or walked next to him by accident, then the other students kept away from that person too - far away. The boy didn't talk much. He withdrew into himself and set up a kind of cloud of sadness around him, making others avoid him even more. He didn't get good grades and was always picked last when they chose teams. He was bitterly lonely, but he told his mom that everything was fine at school.

The boy spent most, if not all, of his adult years recovering from his adolescence.

This boy could be you and I. We've all seen people like the boy, whether male or female, in public school or at a senior citizen book club. What would it take for people to reach out and sit with someone who is ostracized and risk their own status? Is the responsibility of education only to teach curriculum, or is there something even more important? The arts teach empathy, but need to go much farther. We need not only to feel what it's like to wear someone else's shoes, but also to learn what to do as a result of understanding what that person is going through.