Wednesday, April 06, 2005
willpower
"But this girl, this regular girl and one other girl are waiting for something else; they are waiting to teach someone a lesson. They've already phoned her up, they've called her out.
Because she is big, because she likes that boy. Because she is brown and she lost their book; because she doesn't fit and she lies. Because they can.
The girl they're going to get is miserable, that much is clear. Four different schools and two different foster homes in the past year. She keeps returning to family -- her parents, her grandma and grandpa. And she keeps running away. And she doesn't know, doesn't get the plot, doesn't understand her own part. So it starts.
The ones who watched, maybe they thought it wasn't real. Maybe as they yelled out or laughed they were actually frozen. Maybe they were so glad not to be that girl -- whose hair is being held up to a lighter now -- that they don't even know how to imagine shouting stop. Maybe they think that silence is the ticket, the only way to never end up like the girl.
Even the ones who didn't watch, who just heard about what happened, they carry the silence too -- a dark present, passed hand to hand. When they get home maybe they will dream about being blind. Because they can't stand the replays anymore -- how the girl looked up and begged for help." (Joan MacLeod; The Shape of a Girl)
This passage enters my mind from time to time, sometimes as a reminder of why people do many of the things they do, though why I even bother justifying on their behalf is beyond me; call it mercy, call it empathy. The sad thing is this story is true, this girl died a victim of her own lack of will. Sometimes I find myself in the very same position only with much less at stake. I have freedom of will, but sometimes I lack the will to exercise that will. In the end her and I are no different.
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