“Accept people for who and how they are; do not judge them simply because they are different or you don’t understand their reason for being that way.”
That was, essentially, what I was taught growing up. I believe in it whole-heartedly and I’m always the obnoxious person saying things like “Oh, don’t say that. It’s not your place to judge them that way…” when someone makes a derogatory comment or a smart ass remark about a stranger..(Granted, I’m guilty of poking fun at people once in a while…though my conscience beats the crap out of me with a stale baguette shortly after …)
Unfortunately, not everyone is taught to behave in such a manner. Racist parents will most likely teach their children to be racist, higher-than-thou parents will probably rub off on theirs…and so on and so forth. (Thankfully, there is such a thing as free will which sheds a light of hope on the younger generations of these families.) Personally, I can’t control my mouth when I come into contact with such people.
Yes yes, I value opinions and freedom of speech and all those fun things….but there are such things as “crossing the line” and “it’s none of your business” or “try mouthing off your nasty little comments when the target(s) of your venom is out of earshot”, you know?
As I sit here writing this, I’m down the shore with my boyfriend and two of our friends who happen to be a gay couple. With one of them, it’s blatantly obvious. With the other, not so much. That’s probably why only one of them was targeted in a vicious onslaught of derogatory, tormenting, distasteful comments that sent me off the deep end. By some miracle, my boyfriend and I were the only two out of the four of us who heard them, which is how we chose to keep it. Why ruin a nice walk on the beach?
Apparently, it’s down-right ridiculous for me to expect some small level of maturity and respect from five drunk college (?) boys who visibly wax and/or shave more parts of their body than I feel is necessary for any straight man to. Plus, I know the deal. When you’re around your friends, you feel like you have the whole “pack” thing going on, even if you cowered and stared at your feet when I (a 5″2, 21-year old white girl in a tye-dye sweatshirt and glasses) stormed over to let you know just what I thought of your “casual conversation”.
And yes, I did walk away with your bottle of Vodka.