In Defense of Kindness

I just have to rant for half a second.

This week at work, we were at a meeting in the office, and our supervisor started telling us a story that went down with the missionaries that she and the other supervisors thought was absolutely hilarious. And everyone was laughing. (For the record, our supervisor is in her forties, and all my coworkers are other BYU students in their early twenties.) Anyhow, everyone's laughing at this, and then the piece de resistance is revealed- a piece of men's clothing was found in the women's residence lost and found.

Everyone's laughing, but for me, it wasn't really funny anymore- and it hadn't been that funny the whole time- so I said, "Oh, c'mon, that's just gotta be a laundry mix-up or something; someone left something in a dryer on accident..."

And one of my coworkers turned to me and said, "Oh, c'mon Rose, you gotta stop being so nice to people all the time!"

I was surprised- and I paused for a beat, before saying, "No, I refuse to. I will always give people the benefit of the doubt," but I don't think he was listening to me anymore.

And it bothered me.

My kindness is not weakness. I will always assume the best of other people- I would hope they'd do the same for me, but even if not. It is far too easy to be cruel, and far nobler to seek out and defend the good in the people around us.

I can be mean; I can tear people to shreds with my words. But I don't. And I do not see bravery or greatness in humour that exists purely at the expense of other people. I don't want to laugh at that or stand for that.

It is harder to be kind, to hold my tongue when a clever, rude remark is straining there. It is harder to not laugh when my peers don't see a problem with the joke. It is scarier to speak up in defense of those I don't know.

But I will continue to do so. I refuse to leave kindness behind when this world needs it so desperately.

My kindness is a choice.

My kindness is not a weakness.

My kindness will not fail.