I
had a long conversation with a guy at work today. A visitor. Despite the fact
that it was the first day of his holiday, he was in a rather glum mood, I have
to say. I was bracing myself for the complaint that I seem to get weekly these
days - where someone decides that the British climate is completely my fault
and they should be given a full refund because the sun didn't come out - but
actually his unhappiness was not down to the weather. It wasn't self-centred at
all, in fact, which is quite a rarity among most of the people I encounter.
"I just don't know how we can forgive ourselves for bringing our children
into this world," he told me. "This world where online anger is more
attractive than natural light, and where those who shout the loudest are more
important than those who got the most votes. Have you seen what's been
going on? I'm a Londoner and I'm ashamed of what's happening in my home city."
"I don't know much about it," I told him (because I didn't know much
about it). He explained to me about various protests that took place over the
weekend, which I was pleased to report I had managed to avoid any knowledge of
the existence of. I didn't appreciate him dragging me into the real world, but
I didn't want to appear rude so I just said, "If you put lots of angry
people together in a room, they're not going to calm each other down, they're
going to rile each other up. I don't see why a protest would be any different."
"I just don't know what they think they're going to achieve," he
said, exasperated, "and it looks like our days of discussing things
peacefully are extinct now. Everything has to be confrontational, and it all
has to be instragammed and snapchatted."
A lot of work was waiting for me back in my office, but I could tell he was
needing to get this off his chest, so I sat with him a bit longer. He told me a
lot of weird stuff about his teenage years, and then said, "I worry about
my children growing up amongst all this madness; and worse - I worry they might
aspire to get involved."
I shrugged my shoulders and smiled as reassuringly as I could.
"You seem so chilled and unconcerned," he said, "How on Earth do
you do it?"
I smiled and answered him honestly: "I concentrate on my work. I
concentrate on my family. And everything else I ignore."
RC 15-9-25
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