Jeri's Journal

When my husband and I were first married, we rented a little house that was located in what is now the tony area of Cherry Creek. Our landlady told us that the house was originally a coal miner’s shack, which was built one room at a time—and the quirky layout and crooked doorjambs seemed to confirm her story. Our front yard was expansive, as the house sat directly on the alley. The house had one large space heater located in the living room and the bathroom consisted of only a toilet and a bathtub. It was an odd little house, but we loved it and turned it into a comfortable home.

About a year after we moved in, a senior high-rise was erected across the alley from our cozy abode, and directly behind our house was the parking lot. We found out early on that our new neighbors would take some getting used to. Suddenly, the night sky was lit up, as the lights from the parking lot were left on all night and shone brightly through our bedroom window. One day, as I was tending to my one-year-old son, I heard a loud thud, and the house shook. I ran out into the alley just in time to see a tiny, gray-haired woman in a very large car driving away. She hit the house! One wintry day, I went out to run an errand with my son, and found that a snowplow had cleared the senior center’s lot and deposited a large pile of snow right behind my car. I somehow managed to steer my way out by going around the pile, and upon my return, I decided to park in the lot across the alley.

That afternoon, my husband, Jim, and I were talking at the kitchen table when there was a knock at our back door. There stood an elderly woman, whom I assumed was a resident at the senior center. Dispensing with pleasantries, she immediately proceeded to unleash a lifetime of bitterness upon us as we stood there dumfounded. She made it abundantly clear that the parking lot was for the seniors only, and that we had no right to park there. She then stormed off without giving us a chance to explain.

Jim and I stood at our back door speechless. Until that day, I believed that there were only two options open to me when treated with such disrespect. One response would be to flash back with my own anger and well-trained tongue; the other would be to sit down and brood over the venomous assault until the anger died down, and just let it go. I got up, pushed my way past Jim (who tried to stop me, thinking I was going to use option one) and went out into the back yard. The woman was standing and talking with another woman in the parking lot. “Excuse me,” I called to her, “I just wanted to tell you that I really don’t think it is necessary for you to treat people that way. My husband and I are both reasonable people, and I think that we deserve a little more respect than you just showed to us. If you look at our parking area, you will see that your snowplow has blocked our access, and I had nowhere else to park.”

By the surprised look on her face, I could tell that she had also expected option one. Then something happened that surprised me. She walked back over to the fence and apologized for being rude to us. Edith became our friend that day.

I learned as a girl that the only way to gain some people’s respect is to meet their bullying head-on. One girl in the fifth grade had a habit of ambushing kids who were younger or smaller than her on their way home from school. One day, she was picking on a younger girl, and I came to her defense. A fight ensued, and I won. From that point on, the bullying girl was always nice and respectful towards me.

I imagine that the majority of mean-spirited people scrap their way through life thinking that the rest of us are either foolish sheep who cower, or fighters like themselves. It stands to reason that a harsh, coarse attitude toward others perpetuates this point-of-view, as others react quite predictably to such behavior. As adults, we know that standing against the adult bully with our fists up can result in more serious consequences than a black eye, and that verbal retaliation only serves to feed the anger. Standing up for ourselves, armed only with reason and respect, requires some measure of courage. However, since most ill tempered people expect us to respond by either cowering or lashing back with like venom, calm but firm reasoning can have a disarming effect. Here is where Proverbs 15:1 comes into play: “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” Additionally, Romans 12:18 speaks of our responsibility in this: “If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men.”

We eventually moved from our little house to a larger one when I got pregnant with our second son, but our friendship with Edith, and the lesson that I learned there, went with us. That lesson has been proven out over and over again in my dealings with other people. Through reason and respect for others, I have diffused volatile situations, gained new friends, and have even been able to salvage friendships that would have otherwise ended with angry words. Ill-mannered people will always be there to invade our comfort zone, and there is nothing we can do to prevent it. We do, however, have the ability to choose what our reaction will be. Will we cower? Fight back? Or will we respectfully choose to look beyond their rude behavior and instead, disarm them with words of reason?

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