Friendship for Hypothetical Reasons

One day, my roommate, let’s call her Wanda, brought over two friends she met through her classes – I don’t remember either of their names. I was never really great friends with any of them, either... but they seemed cool. I’m sure if we had more interactions, we would have been better friends.

Or worse. Let’s not get too optimistic.

One was a blond, I believe. Very German looking girl with a musical voice and quick smile. The other was a thin, brown haired boy with shifty eyes and quick, dark humor. That’s what I remember about them.

It was some point in which the four of us where hanging out. Probably had lunch or something. I think I mentioned that the new center they built looked a lot like something out of a level in Jedi Knight or Doom or something and I felt the need to carry a blaster or something.

German: I wouldn’t go around saying that! People will think you are going to do something bad.

Maddie: I would never – if you played the game, you’d see what I mean.

Boy: There’s not even enough people in the center to make it worthwhile.

Wanda: When I walked into class the first day, I saw you sitting in the back and I thought, that’s the guy who is going to get a gun and shoot everyone one day. I’m going to be his friend so he won’t shoot me.

And we all laughed.

And laughed.

And thought about it…and laughed more awkwardly.

So…anyhow, the point is, I always think about that in the wake of shootings or crimes, both great and small. I think about how we are in disbelief, we are angry, we are hurt, we are questioning something about others and laws and ethics and mental stability. We throw our hypothetical hands in the air and scream “why” and denounce whatever is convenient and bigger than us.

Then we quote Fred Rogers – look for the helpers. We try to become helpers and do become helpers through our donations of time, blood or acknowledgement. We try to remember the names for a week or so…then…since these situations are not about us, actually, we move onto what is about us in our own worlds which are untouched and unbroken. Or are at least easy to heal.

I do not know what makes someone want to do these things – like shooting into crowds of people. I don’t know what arrangement of life situations and circumstance make people do these things. I’m sure it is a great variety of things. If I try to think what would make me think that way, it would be a very long and dark journey - or something out of science fiction.

I have to think at some point – this person’s entire life told them that this action was the solution to a problem or an answer to an out-of-control situation. We can argue it is hate, intolerance, mental illness or anything – we can shut everything down and argue about things that probably never will be proven.

One of the truths - at some point, this person's entire life led them to a point where this was a solution or answer.

I wonder what would make me feel that the only choice in my life is to kill a mass number of people I don’t even know.

Is that empathy?

I think it would take a lot. A very much a lot. More than I ever think I would know that I could have - that’s my best English.

What swirls in the shadows of my mind is the phrase: “I’m going to be his friend…”

I'm going to be his friend.

I think – what if he was going to do something like shoot up the classroom. Would that single action and commitment prevent it?

Could it prevent something?

Has it?

It would never be reported – the friend who stopped another friend either proactively or subliminally from doing something really devastating. Because the devastation wouldn’t happen and only in devastation can there be creation; creation of money or enterprises or purpose or laws, even.

No headline would read: Person states at one point it felt like mass killing was the only answer and now feels like there are better options worth pursuing like adopting a kitten or getting a master’s degree

You’ll never read that.

When we look for the helpers, it is in the moment of most public destruction. Not the quiet peace and restoration of love. The helpers are there in these single moments as unseen as a heartbeat.

This concept of giving people options when they want to do harm to themselves or others - options through friendship and relationships seems far-fetched, it seems like it has a high rate of failure – humans are more complicated than that. To say attackers are unattached to any social fabric or mentally distorted, to say all of them are happily unloved and happy in destruction or are just created shadows with no reflection in hallway mirrors – is not always right.

Maybe, if enough of us took the time and shared as much of ourselves as we reached out to others – people like Wanda, the German or me – maybe one of us would notice something or provided something that could change the future of someone’s life.

Or a mass of people's lives. 

Because of this interaction in my life, I always think about the attacker for a moment and say to the universe:

I am so sorry that everything in your life led to the moment when this option was the right option for you. I’m sorry these thoughts and these plans never touched soundboard that could make this plan one of a million better options. I am so sorry no one was able to reach you, to comfort you, to talk with you in a constructive way to bring out better solutions. I am sorry that the depth and length of love around you could not comfort you. This was not the outcome anyone wanted for you or anyone else. From this moment on, the future will be able making the broken pieces of this stronger.

And then, I look to the helpers who in those moments of life-and-death choose to save. They work to rescue and restore what had been lost for no reason than something horrible happened and they can be the reflection of the good that surrounds that horrible action.

I wish I could sit next to someone the way Wanda did and say: “I’m going to be your friend…” and literally become the type of friend that is exactly what is needed. That I became the helper than no one saw because I didn't love only when it was easy but when it was most needed.

What I can do is tell a story.