Marie Curie once said, “Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood.”
As recovering codependents, alcoholics, or drug addicts, we know about fear, and we know that when people fear us, they reject us. Our clingy behavior made people label us as “needy” and it frightened them away. Our rage that came out when we drank made people label us as angry drunks, and we lost all our friends.
We know how labels and rejection can hurt, especially at the times when we most need love and understanding, yet how often do we label people just because we do not understand them? What we don’t understand can be frightening, but learning about it can also be enlightening and make our fear disappear.
Today, many things that people feared in past generations make us laugh or shake our heads at the absurdity, even the racism or prejudice that resulted simply from fear of someone who was different.
When Michelangelo carved his statue of Moses, he gave Moses horns because he believed Jews had horns and tails, being akin to Satan. Such racist ideas culminated in the Holocaust of World War II; today we realize how wrong it was to allow fear to lead to hate and murder. For centuries, discrimination against Africans was justified by a belief they were descended from Ham, the son whom Noah cursed, and consequently they were lesser people and deserved to be enslaved. A Civil War and a Civil Rights movement were needed before this kind of thinking was no longer acceptable. Even in the last century, alcoholism was considered as a sign of moral depravity until groups like Alcoholics Anonymous helped people to understand it was a disease so sympathy and knowledge could create healing for thousands of people.
Still today, we allow fear to stop us from loving people and treating them with respect. Just the other day, I read a letter to the editor in the newspaper that said because gay men were allowed to become priests, children had been sexually abused. This writer equated being gay with being a pedophile. That’s the kind of slippery slope thinking that labels people resulting in racism and discrimination. It’s just as untrue as assuming all blondes are dumb. Similarly, after September 11th, every Muslim became a terrorist suspect. We can’t stereotype or label people or make sweeping generalizations. Instead, we need to learn to understand and respect them as individuals.
Do you not like that kid with the skateboard because you assume he’s a punk? Do you automatically think that girl with the nose ring at the grocery store checkout must be a slut? Why do we jump to these conclusions? It’s mostly out of fear. Sometimes, it’s so we will feel better about ourselves by putting other people down, so we don’t have to look at the pain and dysfunction within ourselves because to do so is too frightening.
If we live in fear, we will see the world through narrow glasses. If we are open to loving people for whom they are and accepting them, we’ll find the world a better place, and we’ll attract people willing to accept us. Instead of fearing the gay neighbor, we can talk to him about gardening when we see him working in his yard. Instead of fearing the Muslim woman, we can talk to her about her religious beliefs without being judgmental. We can take an extra minute to talk to the checkout girl with the nose ring—we might be surprised to find out she’s a loving mother and wife. And what about the skateboard punk? We might find him holding open the door for us as we go out of the grocery store.
When we make an effort to understand other people, we can build relationships, we will feel better about ourselves, and everyone will benefit. We will find we have more in common than we have to disagree about; after all, we are all human with the same basic needs to be loved and understood.
Irene Watson, MA, is author of The Sitting Swing: Finding Wisdom to Know the Difference, and co-editor of The Story that Must Be Told: True Tales of Transformation, and Authors Access: 30 Success Secrets for Authors and Publishers. She is a workshop leader, managing editor of Reader Views, and president of a non-profit Higher Power Foundation. Irene lives next to Barton Creek in Austin, TX, with her husband Robert.
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