Time to Care

The first time I was confronted by someone who didn’t believe we should care about others I was in college. I had written a speech about the immense impact of volunteer work that brings human contact to those who believe they’re forgotten. The feedback from the several judges reached me after the fact in the form of their written notes. I didn’t save the one that shocked me, but I’ll never forget its gist: “You have no right to ask me to care about other people. I’m not responsible for them.” The content chilled me. Someone, someone reputable enough to be acting as one of the judges of a national collegiate speaking competition, was offended by the concept of caring. What?

The next time I encountered the same attitude, I was teaching college classes in a community college that at the time specialized in being open to the many students whose previous exposures to education hadn’t met their needs. Unlike the students I had taught in a respected university, my classes were filled with people who didn’t comprehend satire, symbolism, or word play. They were socially uneducated, betrayed by the finer points of civilization. I was teaching empathy—how to build and maintain healthy relationships by taking the trouble to try to understand the issues within the other person. One of my brightest students curled her lip when I praised an essay she had written. “I don’t believe it,” she told me. “I just wrote what you wanted to hear, but I don’t care what other people are thinking or feeling.”

Today, of course, a disregard or even disdain for caring is no longer seething under wraps. Self-centered apathy that can become hateful and even violent is popular and spreading. For many, a tiny world that revolves around the self and material gain is immensely appealing. I can’t say I share enthusiasm for the dark reality they’re creating. Just this week, a very dear friend* who made the atmosphere around her feel safer by being intelligent, bright, and kind left this human realm. She didn’t need attention or acclaim, although she earned her share. She was quietly wonderful, generous, and thoughtful. I have a sister-in-law who’s cut from the same shining cloth.

We old ones who remember the sort of ideal of love, truth, and beauty we spent our lives trying to achieve hold our candles close. Are there enough young people who understand and dare to sustain the flame to pass it on to future generations? I hope so. In any case, one day far, far distant, our dream will be realized. We can feel it even if we can’t deliver it in this lifetime.

*This article is dedicated to Dr. Kay Perryman-Snow.