Yikes...

A few days ago I made a mistake. I walked into a room filled with people I don’t know in hopes of learning more about their support group. They were mostly men and I tend to use the girly thing a little to make everyone laugh and put them at their ease. I pulled out some name tags and markers and began to pass them around saying, “Now boys, everyone needs to print very neatly…” I moved on around the table getting things set up and the interviews began.

About half way through, one of the men stopped in the middle of a sentence because he had to get something off his chest. He looked right at me. “You called us ‘boys’.” I was startled and had to think for a moment to remember what I’d said. And then I realized – I was in a room filled with African American men. I had waltzed into a group of strangers – Black men in their 40s, 50s, 60s, and 70s – and I had called them ‘boys’. Yes, I would classify that as a big mistake.

The thesaurus is filled with words that attempt to describe how I felt. Mortified. Embarrassed. Ashamed. Breathtakingly stupid. But I did my best to meet his eye and apologize with all my heart. To him, to all of them. And I thanked him for being so gracious in calling me out. He hadn’t raised his voice or stomped out of the room, or said anything mean. He just very calmly pointed out my lack of respect and complete ignorance. It was devastating, and also revelatory.

How many times had I done that before? Said something silly or thoughtless that I thought was flirty or funny or clever, only to hurt someone without knowing it. No, I may have meant nothing by it, but that doesn’t excuse my cluelessness. I have been hurt by words in the past. And I have used them to wound when I needed a weapon I could rely on to cut deeply. I know their power.

Hopefully, in the future, I will use that power for good. After all, with power comes great responsibility.