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Dare To Judge Yourself
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Dare To Judge Yourself
Have you ever sat down and judged yourself?
Judging—we do it all the time.
When we walk through the streets of a crowded city and see a handicapped stranger sitting on the corner of the alleyway in his ragged clothes and messy hair asking for money, we automatically assume one of two things, or both; he’s a beggar, he’s a drug addict AND a beggar.
When we walk through the halls of our school and see a pregnant teenager holding her belly while trying to cautiously maneuver her way around the chaos that is the students, we assume she’s a slut that unfortunately got herself knocked up by some irresponsible bastard. And most likely he’s not going to provide for the child or claim it as his.
When we see a smelly kid working his ass off in class we make snide remarks about how he needs to shower and how dirty he is or how nerdy he is. He always wears the same outfit everyday and our first thought is “how f.ucking gross!” We bully him—pushing him into a corner where the only one he could turn to for comfort is he, himself. Even then, he would shy as far away from his own mind as possible, afraid of the lingering taunts from us sinful human beings.
When we see a beautiful rich girl surrounded by hoards of people everywhere she goes, we think she’s a typical obnoxious kid with everything in the world. She’s got a boyfriend, ‘best friends’, a nice car, a good house, and rich parents… why couldn’t God be fair? Why couldn’t she be flawed in some way? She’s rich, she must be ungrateful and snotty… that’s what we think.
When we see a little kid running around, knocking items over that didn’t belong to him, and acts unfazed by all the yelling and screaming adults throw his way, we judge how well his parents must’ve taught him. Hah! If they even teach him anything at all!
When we see an Asian person, do we judge their intelligence?
When we see a White person, do we judge their size?
When we see a Spanish person, do we judge whether they can or cannot speak English?
When we see an African American, do we judge where they come from?
Racism is just another form of judgment and some of us practice this more frequently than others.
In fact, the old man begging on the corner of the streets without his legs fought in World War II. He had a beautiful wife and an adorable six year old son named Charlie. He had a house—a home, with furniture, and food was always ready to serve the instant he got home. He lost his legs during the war and upon hearing the news; his wife took their six year old son and left him. She never came back once and he couldn’t work without his legs. Yet, we didn’t see through all of that. We couldn’t tell the immense amount of emotional pain he must be feeling with every passing second. We just judge away.
In fact, the pregnant high school “slut” is a Christian. She was raped by a whole gang and she was too pro-life to get an abortion. She must hate the fact that she is bearing a cynical stranger’s child in her stomach, but she is too compassionate and humane to rid of the innocent fetus. She looks at her parents every single day with shame welling up in her eyes and we couldn’t see all of that as she quickly passes us by in the hall. We just judge away.
In fact, the kid reeking of garbage and dumpster material search through the trash every day before school for things like cans, bottles, and plastic to recycle in exchange for small amounts of money to give his single mom and younger siblings—their extravagant meal being bread and soup. He wears the same clothes because he couldn’t afford anything else. And no matter what new hurtful words we throw his way, he never fights back; afraid of getting a detention and making his mom worried. He’s working his ass off for the future his mom never had. But we didn’t notice that sad, lonely glint in his brown eyes did we? We just judge away.
In fact, the rich girl is the sweetest thing you’ll ever meet. If she could trade all her fortune for a loving family and more time with her parents, she would not hesitate becoming the poorest kid in school. It wasn’t until they had a bigger house that silence became their every day conversations. She eats in her room and put music on full blast to drown out the screaming of her hard working parents. Yet as we envy her and criticize her, we failed to put ourselves in her shoes and realize how lucky we are to see our parents for at least five minutes a day. Do you know the last time her mother said “I love you” to her was so long ago that she can’t even remember? No. We just judge away.
In fact, the little boy’s parents abandoned him since he was three. They gave him to his Aunt and never once wrote a letter to him or visit him. One time, he asked to speak on the phone with his mother while his aunt and her had a chat, she refused to listen to “a child’s incoherent words”. He meant nothing to her and yet he misses her every day. We give him mean glares and secretly wished he would be punished while he prays every night to receive just one letter from his parents. We didn’t care to notice the child silently collecting bits and pieces of his tiny heart to drop all over again. We just judge away.
We can’t help it. We’ve all done it. We’re only human…
I still sleep with my nightlight… not because I am childish or a coward like what people always seem to assume of me when they have sleepovers. In fact, I went blind for a couple of months as a kid and darkness became my biggest fear for a long time. No one cares to ask why I sleep with a nightlight, they already judged me the way they wanted to. So go ahead and judge me now.
And once you’re done judging me,
Scroll up to line one and think about it.
Judging—we do it all the time.
When we walk through the streets of a crowded city and see a handicapped stranger sitting on the corner of the alleyway in his ragged clothes and messy hair asking for money, we automatically assume one of two things, or both; he’s a beggar, he’s a drug addict AND a beggar.
When we walk through the halls of our school and see a pregnant teenager holding her belly while trying to cautiously maneuver her way around the chaos that is the students, we assume she’s a slut that unfortunately got herself knocked up by some irresponsible bastard. And most likely he’s not going to provide for the child or claim it as his.
When we see a smelly kid working his ass off in class we make snide remarks about how he needs to shower and how dirty he is or how nerdy he is. He always wears the same outfit everyday and our first thought is “how f.ucking gross!” We bully him—pushing him into a corner where the only one he could turn to for comfort is he, himself. Even then, he would shy as far away from his own mind as possible, afraid of the lingering taunts from us sinful human beings.
When we see a beautiful rich girl surrounded by hoards of people everywhere she goes, we think she’s a typical obnoxious kid with everything in the world. She’s got a boyfriend, ‘best friends’, a nice car, a good house, and rich parents… why couldn’t God be fair? Why couldn’t she be flawed in some way? She’s rich, she must be ungrateful and snotty… that’s what we think.
When we see a little kid running around, knocking items over that didn’t belong to him, and acts unfazed by all the yelling and screaming adults throw his way, we judge how well his parents must’ve taught him. Hah! If they even teach him anything at all!
When we see an Asian person, do we judge their intelligence?
When we see a White person, do we judge their size?
When we see a Spanish person, do we judge whether they can or cannot speak English?
When we see an African American, do we judge where they come from?
Racism is just another form of judgment and some of us practice this more frequently than others.
In fact, the old man begging on the corner of the streets without his legs fought in World War II. He had a beautiful wife and an adorable six year old son named Charlie. He had a house—a home, with furniture, and food was always ready to serve the instant he got home. He lost his legs during the war and upon hearing the news; his wife took their six year old son and left him. She never came back once and he couldn’t work without his legs. Yet, we didn’t see through all of that. We couldn’t tell the immense amount of emotional pain he must be feeling with every passing second. We just judge away.
In fact, the pregnant high school “slut” is a Christian. She was raped by a whole gang and she was too pro-life to get an abortion. She must hate the fact that she is bearing a cynical stranger’s child in her stomach, but she is too compassionate and humane to rid of the innocent fetus. She looks at her parents every single day with shame welling up in her eyes and we couldn’t see all of that as she quickly passes us by in the hall. We just judge away.
In fact, the kid reeking of garbage and dumpster material search through the trash every day before school for things like cans, bottles, and plastic to recycle in exchange for small amounts of money to give his single mom and younger siblings—their extravagant meal being bread and soup. He wears the same clothes because he couldn’t afford anything else. And no matter what new hurtful words we throw his way, he never fights back; afraid of getting a detention and making his mom worried. He’s working his ass off for the future his mom never had. But we didn’t notice that sad, lonely glint in his brown eyes did we? We just judge away.
In fact, the rich girl is the sweetest thing you’ll ever meet. If she could trade all her fortune for a loving family and more time with her parents, she would not hesitate becoming the poorest kid in school. It wasn’t until they had a bigger house that silence became their every day conversations. She eats in her room and put music on full blast to drown out the screaming of her hard working parents. Yet as we envy her and criticize her, we failed to put ourselves in her shoes and realize how lucky we are to see our parents for at least five minutes a day. Do you know the last time her mother said “I love you” to her was so long ago that she can’t even remember? No. We just judge away.
In fact, the little boy’s parents abandoned him since he was three. They gave him to his Aunt and never once wrote a letter to him or visit him. One time, he asked to speak on the phone with his mother while his aunt and her had a chat, she refused to listen to “a child’s incoherent words”. He meant nothing to her and yet he misses her every day. We give him mean glares and secretly wished he would be punished while he prays every night to receive just one letter from his parents. We didn’t care to notice the child silently collecting bits and pieces of his tiny heart to drop all over again. We just judge away.
We can’t help it. We’ve all done it. We’re only human…
I still sleep with my nightlight… not because I am childish or a coward like what people always seem to assume of me when they have sleepovers. In fact, I went blind for a couple of months as a kid and darkness became my biggest fear for a long time. No one cares to ask why I sleep with a nightlight, they already judged me the way they wanted to. So go ahead and judge me now.
And once you’re done judging me,
Scroll up to line one and think about it.
