In my line of work, I have to write the occasional speech so I sometimes read famous speeches for inspiration. One of those which may not be the most remembered, but has been personally impactful to me, is by Elie Wiesel, a Jewish writer who suffered under the Nazis in World War II. In April 1999, he addressed President Clinton and the US Congress speaking on
The Perils of Indifference.
"Indifference, after all, is more dangerous than anger and hatred. Anger can at times be creative. One writes a great poem, a great symphony. One does something special for the sake of humanity because one is angry at the injustice that one witnesses. But indifference is never creative. Even hatred at times may elicit a response. You fight it. You denounce it. You disarm it.
Indifference elicits no response. Indifference is not a response. Indifference is not a beginning; it is an end."
Wiesel was making a point that apathy by others was what fueled the tragedy at Auschwitz. Closer to home, the speech struck a chord in me because indifference is destructive at the basic, everyday level as well.
Indifference is looking the other way, pretending not to hear or saying something non-committal out of convenience or to avoid conflict. As Wiesel said, "It is so much easier to look away from victims. It is so much easier to avoid such rude interruptions to our work, our dreams, our hopes. It is, after all, awkward, troublesome, to be involved in another person's pain and despair... In a way, to be indifferent to that suffering is what makes the human being inhuman."
Ironically, while indifference implies inaction, it can have very negative consequences. I consider a better friend the one who disagrees with me than the one who simply ignores me. Nothing shouts "I don't care" louder than indifference.
And this is what I hope we can teach our kids. Whether it's going out of our way to lend a helping hand or simply giving a word of encouragement, it's almost always better than doing nothing, saying nothing, feeling nothing. I've always felt that's why bullying continues to happen in schools - because kids and teachers do, say and feel nothing about the plight of the victims.
This year, one of Andre's school bus mates happens to be his form teacher's son. The boy periodically grumbles about his mother's strict rules at home. One day, Andre marched up to his teacher and asked her, "Are you proud of your son?" When she replied something to the effect of "aren't all parents proud of their children?", he queried, "then why don't you show it?"
I only found this out when she called me and I was stunned by his audacity. (A friend asked me if I fed Andre steroids). On further reflection, I was touched by his intentions - he perceived his friend as being aggrieved and he attempted to stand up for him. While his approach may be flawed, his intention was good. It showed that he cared and he wasn't indifferent, which warmed my heart.
During my break, I've had some time to ponder over the future fate of this blog. Occasionally, I worry that I come across too strong in my opinions - I acknowledge I'm extremely opinionated and I make no secret of these opinions, even sometimes unpopular ones. But I believe this is far preferable to apathy. And while it takes effort to keep turning out meaningful articles, I can't be indifferent to the fact that my blog has attracted almost 100,000 eyeballs. So for now, the blog remains a platform for me to air my views and if they resonate with some of you, my readers, then that would be a bonus.
Meanwhile, even as my kids grow older everyday, this blog will be an excellent way to let me chronicle their journey as a keepsake. I'm taking this one step at a time, without putting any pressure on myself to churn out articles every few days, as I've done in the past. But as long as this blog can make a difference, whether to my readers, to my family or even to myself, I will keep at it... for now.