Othering

            I read an article about an elementary school teacher who asks her students each Friday to write down who they would like to eat lunch with next week, be partner with in reading, be on a team with, and so on. Friday nights, she sorts the papers. No, she’s not looking for the most popular kid. She’s looking for the kids whose names never appear, those shunned, lonely, perhaps bullied children who need her special attention. Those are the children who are “othered.” She pays special attention to them.

A friend of mine teaches English at a religiously-affiliated school. She has a transgender student who has had to sit through committee meetings while faculty representatives discuss what bathroom she should use, whether she is a danger to herself and to other students. She is being “othered.” My friend is encouraging her to write about the experience as her semester project, on the theory that exploring her feelings about it will help her sort out what has happened to her.

Nikolaus Cruz, the Parkland, Florida shooter, was “othered.” His parents and stepmother all dead, from what we know he tortured animals, was obsessed with guns, and mentored with a racist supremacy group. Psychiatrists would probably tell you many of his actions were cries for attention. His threats to kill people might be interpreted as “Pay attention to me—I am important too.” His family, society, even the FBI failed him; schoolmates apparently thought him weird and reported him as did a You Tuber, but no one paid attention. He was “othered,” an outcast in society. He took out his anger in the most tragic way imaginable.

No, I’m not saying he is not responsible for his actions nor that society bears the responsibility. Nor am I enough of a bleeding-heart idealist to think that he would have dramatically changed if he’d gotten help at a younger age. But compassion somewhere along the way might have prevented his horrendous action or at least resulted in help for him. We’ll never know.

The article I read about the elementary teacher suggested she in her own way was preventing future school shootings by catching “othered” children at a young age and working to restore their self-esteem.

When was the last time you reached out to a child—or an adult—who was an “other”? Maybe a cup of coffee or a lunch date or even a casual conversation might make the difference. It’s a chance for us to get out of ourselves and pay attention to those around us. It’s a challenge.