Most of us have some memory of that one time in our childhood where we witnessed some kid get bullied. Many of us also stood there, watching, and despite knowing it was unjust, sat there quietly, stuck halfway between fearing we might be next and being secretly glad it wasn’t happening to us.
Or maybe you didn’t just stand there. Maybe you intervened. Perhaps when you did you ended up getting smacked down right along with them, or worse some adult came by and stupidly blamed you for being aggressive.
Did you ever see someone stand up and dare to say out loud what we were all thinking? Have you noticed when that happens that person is almost always met with eye rolls or scorn. Did you ever know someone who was amazingly talented, but you were uncomfortable around them because they seemed to be a lightening rod? You found yourself attracted to them, but at the same time kinda kept your distance?
Do you know people from your past who got in trouble all the time because they couldn’t stay quiet about injustice? I know I did. Sometimes that person was me, but most the time it was someone braver than me.
Our tribal instincts tend to make us take shelter behind where we imagine strength to be, but our problem is most of the time we shelter ourselves behind the wrong person. We misinterpret a show of force or dominance with shelter. Somewhere during our lifetime many of us have mistakenly stood behind the bully. The crowd where the jeers and criticism was coming seemed a safer place to be if you didn’t want to be singled out and humiliated. Even though, deep down, you knew something was wrong. That’s only human, right?
We’ve seen many people speak the truth when no one wanted to hear it. Maybe we were glad to hear it, and even more glad it was someone else who spoke it. Afterwards we go along with our life dealing with our own personal hardships that eventually cloud our memory from those who once drew fire on our behalf.
Sinéad O’Conner was our lightening rod, whether we liked it or not. She is the kid who stood up in class to speak an obvious truth out loud to authority while the rest of us laughed or hid our faces. She’s the kid we watched get bullied on the playground who picked herself up, dusted herself off, and walked away in silence.
I’ve been thinking about Sinéad over the last few days, but mostly I’ve been thinking about how much we haven’t been thinking about her for a long time until now. Right now if feels a bit disingenuous to stand up and praise her, because it’s honestly a day late and a dollar short. She deserves more than posthumous praise. What she deserved was to be supported in her lifetime. Even though she was absolutely not afraid to go it alone, because that was pretty much all she had ever known, while we all sat in the back of the classroom watching her take the heat.
If you want to honor Sinéad report child abuse, report domestic violence, hold everyone in authority accountable. Stand up for the least of these. And don’t be afraid when the bully turns his gaze towards you.
Letters From Nod 