Courage

Courage is my granddaughter

Let me explain

When I was younger

We were taught

All of us, all the kids

Were taught

That we

Were not special

Now, I don’t want to make my mother and father

--Well, mostly my father—

Sound cruel

He was Russian

So was my mother

And where they came from

Being special

Got you in trouble

Sometimes it got you killed

They had a very, uh, village mentality

When it came to looking at the world

The way they saw it

Your job—was to be a citizen

Of the village

And that meant

To contribute

And be a good neighbor

And blend

In

Somebody who was a show-off

Somebody who stuck out

Who drew attention to themselves

Those were
Not

Good people

And that’s how we grew up

Me, my three sisters, my two brothers

All of us

Blend in

You are not special

You are not unique

You are a citizen

Of the village

Now, there’s an effect to that

A side effect, I guess you could say

Yes, we all became good neighbors

Yes, we all became decent human beings

But—

What my mother and father may not have realized

Is that when you teach kids they’re not special

And that they shouldn’t try to be special

Something happens

A few years after my second daughter was born

I was at the supermarket

Getting something for dinner

And out in the parking lot
I saw this man

And this woman

And they were fighting

It was just shouting back and forth

But then the man grabbed the woman

By the hair

And pushed her up against this car

She struggled with him

And at one point

He turned her around

And slapped her right across the face

I…I didn’t know what to do

I got my daughter in the car

As fast as I could

And I…I just drove off

When I got home

I told my husband what happened

And he was horrified

Not just at what I had seen

But how I had reacted

‘Why didn’t you do anything,’
He asked me

‘Why didn’t you go back in the store

And phone the police?’

But you see—

That’s not what someone does

If they’re trying to blend in

That’s how you draw a lot of attention

To yourself

I just…I just wasn’t the kind of person

Who could do that

Who could, you know, be the hero
In a situation like that

I called my sisters

And they said the same thing

One of my sisters even described

Seeing something similar

Outside a restaurant once

‘I kept hoping someone else

Would do something,’ she said

‘I kept hoping it wouldn’t have to be me’

You see, every once in awhile

Life

Requires some

Heroics

But heroes are special

And if you’ve been taught

That you’re not special

And that you shouldn’t want to be special

Then…

You see someone who needs you

And you can’t do it

You can’t

Help

After that day, I started to wonder

Could I have done something

If that was my daughter

Being beaten up

By some guy

Could I have stepped in

If it was someone I knew?

Someone I cared about?

I wanted to believe I could

But…

It was hard not to doubt myself

Which brings me to my granddaughter

Fast forward about a million years

And I’m a grandmother

My granddaughter is six

And I’m picking her up at school

So we can go buy her mom a birthday gift

Well, when I get to the school

The kids are all out on the playground
Waiting for their rides

And I see my granddaughter

Talking to a friend by the swings

So I wave to let her know I’m there

And she can finish talking to her friend

Then I sit down on a bench

To relax for a few minutes

A few feet over from my granddaughter

This boy—this really tall boy, god those kids are getting taller every year—

He’s standing next to this smaller boy

And he pushes him

He pushes the smaller kid down

On the ground

And starts yelling something at him

The bigger boy had to be at least nine or ten

And the smaller boy looked to be about my granddaughter’s age

And I instinctively started looking around

For a teacher, somebody who could help

The smaller boy

But when I looked back at the two boys

My granddaughter was standing

In between them

She was pointing her finger at the older, bigger boy

And she had this determined look in her eyes

The bigger boy said something to her

But I couldn’t hear what it was

She took a step towards him

And he turned

And walked away

Then she helped the smaller boy up

And went back to talking with her friend

I was…stunned

Here was a six-year-old girl
Doing what I couldn’t

As if it was

The easiest thing in the world

You know, the thing about kids today

--And yes, I say ‘kids today’ sometimes—

The thing about kids today

Is that they’re not scared to be special

Now, sometimes that makes them look

Entitled or obnoxious or vain

Sometimes it means endless online videos

And photos they take of themselves

And being loud

And acting out

But you know what?

There are side effects to all that

Really

Good

Side effects, like—

Like not being afraid

Like seeing something

That needs to be done

And doing it

And not worrying

If it means

Someone’s going to notice you

Or think a certain way about you

Or tell you to mind your own business

I never really wondered about courage

Until that day on the playground

I never thought about my parents

And asked myself if it ever occurred to them

That by teaching us how to be people in a village

They were also teaching us not to have courage

Not to be brave

Not to stand up for anybody
Even ourselves

You know…

One of my sisters used to have a boyfriend

Who used to say the most awful things to her

And my brother had a wife

Who treated him like garbage

My other sister has a boss

Who totally takes advantage of her

And my other brother barely says

More than two words a year

My youngest sister died

Because she was too scared to tell her doctor

About the lump she found

She didn’t want to make a fuss

She didn’t want…the attention

And then there’s me

And that woman in the parking lot
And how quickly I drove away

I think of that

And I think of my granddaughter

Who’s always on her phone

Who’s always got an opinion

Who’s always ready to burst into song

Or tackle her brother

Or tell you exactly what she thinks
About something

Who isn’t scared of a fight

And I think—

Thank God

Thank God

And screw the village

You wish for so many things

For your kids
And your grandkids

But sitting there on that bench

Watching my granddaughter

Stare down that bully

I thought about

How sometimes we forget

To wish for courage

We try to give them the world

But then we don’t give them

The courage to face it

But luckily for me

My granddaughter

Has courage

She is courage

And who knows?

Maybe I’ll keep being lucky

And some of that

Will rub off

On me