The Difference is Your Participation

I learned a lot in junior high, math comes with letters, recess was sorely missed and girls weren’t as icky as I’d previously believed.  But the most important lesson to come from those hormonally demented years was: don’t take yourself too seriously.

Thanks to high levels of testosterone, estrogen and self-doubt, grappling (bullying) for social stature was intense among the little heathens of adolescence.  Some kids dealt with it by fighting back, some by fading into the background and some of us just laughed.

In hindsight I can understand why kids might have made fun of me.  Sporting a chili-bowl haircut, fifteen extra pounds and a shirt that would’ve fit perfectly two year before, I wasn’t the coolest looking kid in the hallway.  But, for whatever reason, I also wasn’t the most insecure.  So when somebody made fun of me, I laughed.

I didn’t laugh out of fear, I laughed because it was funny; my braces did make my mouth look like a disco ball with food scraps, my pants did look like I’d been wading through a coin fountain searching for nickels and my hair did look like I’d entered a Moe Howard look-alike contest. 

Don’t think I was just a good natured punching bag.  I reciprocated with my share of observations, and since I had laughed with them, they usually laughed with me.  As much as mothers don’t like it, hitting each other is what boys do, whether with fists or words.

There hasn’t been a documented case of a perfect human in over two-thousand years, although I’ve met several people that think they’re close.  Of those self-proclaimed immaculate, none were much fun to be around.  Perhaps, like me, their mothers and grandmothers had hinted at their inherent flawlessness (moms praise your perfection), but maybe they didn’t have fathers and grandfathers to make sure they didn’t hang their hat on it (dad’s help you fix your faults). 

I’ve learned that some of the most enjoyable people to be around have a common trait; they don’t take themselves too seriously.  They might be highly competent, even stand out in their field, but they wielded that authority with ease and humility, they accepted that they weren’t the foremost authority on all topics and they were confident enough to be questioned without being offended.

I try to mimic those qualities.  And I’m often successful...but then my wife, who is perfect for me, but completely non-mechanical, offers advice on a malfunctioning car…so I get snippy.  And with that reaction I go from having a broken car to having a broken car and an angry wife.  That’s like going from having a hang nail to having a hang nail and a full body rash.  Fortunately, the wife is reasonably forgiving and, given time, I usually see the error of my ways, apologize and the rash goes away.

Nobody likes to be laughed at.  Luckily, there is an alternative, don’t take yourself too seriously.  The difference in people laughing at you and people laughing with you is your participation.