Transgressions and Misunderstandings

The great film director Barry Levinson once told a story about a perceived slight he’d received after asking a high school classmate to go to the prom with him. She responded, “I was hoping that someone else would ask me, but…okay.” Levinson still took her to the prom, but he was furious, and two decades later at a gathering that included his former prom date, he reminded her of their conversation from high school. She said, “I remember saying that – there was someone else. But I meant what I said: It was okay to go with you.” 

Levinson concluded, “See, it was a put-down for me, not for her. I carried something around for twenty years that had no meaning for the other person. And that’s life. It’s all about misunderstandings.”

Goodness knows I’ve carried around baggage from when I was the recipient of various bullying and nastiness that had no meaning for the perpetrators, and I know the reverse is true. I once had a long conversation with a friend who recited a litany of ways I’d needled, insulted, or otherwise hurt him. I was clueless to all of them because none of them were purposely hurtful, and if I’m being honest, I didn’t understand how some of the things I’d said could even be perceived that way. But that’s life – full of misunderstandings, like an episode of Three’s Company. We all bring different things to the table, and it’s impossible for us to truly know how what we say affects the other person.

A friend of mine recently lamented about what an asshole he’d been earlier in his life, blurting out one-liners without even an inkling about the ramifications. On a particular occasion, a female classmate of his had to read an original poem in front of English class, and afterward he took his friends’ dare to say to this teenage girl, “That was good trailer park poetry,” resulting in tears, as she apparently came from a poor area and likely lived with the burdens associated with it. Looking back on it now, he said, “I had no idea what I was saying. My friends dared me to say something, and I said it. I didn’t even think about it.”

With drinks in hand, I toasted him and said, “Here’s to our evolution into decent human beings.”

We carry around our worst transgressions forever. The only things I truly regret in life aren’t the risks I didn’t take, that girl I didn’t ask out, the opportunity I let pass me by, or even the dumb thing I said that someone took in a way I hadn’t intended – it’s the times I was purposely cruel. Fortunately, these have been fewer and farther between in adulthood, but there are a few offenses from childhood that still make me shudder in shame. Hopefully if there’s an account of our time on Earth, we’re not held responsible for the misdoings we committed when we were impressionable children, so easily swayed by the goading of friends, convincing us to do something we know is wrong.

But dang, there are also things I’ve said as an adult that I’d like to take back. Hopefully Barry Levinson’s life lesson cuts both ways: perhaps there are dumb things I’ve said that I still carry with me in shame that the other person doesn’t think of in the slightest, a completely unnecessary burden.

So I’ll amend the toast I previously made to my friend: “Here’s to our continuing evolution into decent human beings.” It appears to be a lifetime pursuit.