What it means to be honest.

What does it mean to be honest?

One of my objectives, from my earliest memory, is to be honest. Not nice. Not kind. Not tactful. Not even politically wise. Just honest.

I always tried to "tell it to people straight."

I had a couple reasons for this. One was that pre-experimentation I was big into this lost concept of chivalry. My experimentation, in fact, was primarily with Amorality and the Loss of Chivalry and Character.

I think I'm coming back to the parts of me I left behind in the experiments and now trying to figure out how taking them apart like I did will help me put them back together, and one of the big ones I've got to re-assemble is honesty.

One of the reasons I was so big into honesty is that my Mother is huge about it. She talks about the fact that bearing false witness is a sin, and that to her lying is one of the worst traits that anyone can have.

I always believed her. But recently I've watched her, on at least one occasion, toss aside the trust of her students, because she feels that the concerns they've voiced to her are unwarranted.

Example: A kid calls her to talk about an assignment, and that he's happy that he's found his material for the topic, and asks her not to tell anybody, because he doesn't want to get teased by the other kids in the class for geeking out and calling her. She thinks the story is adorable, and proceeds to tell it (in full, with names) to both his parents and the parents of other children in the class. She wasn't worried at all about the fact that it was almost certain to get back to the kids, and even just telling the parents was a pretty low thing to do, after the student requested it go unmentioned.

I was in the room when I heard the story, and I almost jumped her for it. I've started to realize that there are areas of life where I feel superior to my parents, and I really wanted to call her on it and say, right there, while she was telling the story "and what did you tell him? Did you assure him you wouldn't share the story?" Right in front of all her peers.

But I didn't. It's not my place. I've learned to hold my tongue in recent years, quite well. Its a trait that comes in handy but often goes unnoticed. I'm sure there are many people in my life who, if they read this, would think "Patrick? Holding his tongue? Pfft. He never does that." They'd be wrong. And for every time they think that, there are probably a dozen times that I bite back a statement that could take someone apart. I realized it isn't worth it.

I lost my respect for other's opinions after a girl that I'd known for over a year--who was quite intelligent (I had thought)--told me that she didn't think homeschooling was capable of preparing people to socialize properly.

I didn't even laugh in her face. I was too shocked. I just quietly consigned her opinions on homeschooling (and several other topics) to a place in my brain where I store the opinions of many (but not all) gun control, Welfare and Drug War proponents.

In the meantime. . . what does it mean to be honest? Am I facilitating dishonesty by not calling out people like my Mother, for her actions. What about a friend of mine who recently boasted "I could have killed you at any time" in front of others, to shore up his ego after I quietly pointed out that he'd taken a knee to the face in class only because his technique was poor?

What do I care if my mother tells her story, or my friend's ego remains shored up? The student of my mother's will quietly lose some of his respect for her if the story ever makes it back to him, but that is not my concern. My friend will go on cheerfully thinking that he told me off, when in truth he just ignored an opportunity to learn from my comment--meant not to criticize but to instruct--but that too, is not my concern.

Why should the honesty of others be my concern? Why should the respect others pay one another be my concern? Why should the respect they bother paying me be my concern?

Years ago my father drew me aside after I expressed frustration with a situation in which I had no hand and he said "You can't play policeman for the world. You can't save everybody."

I hated it at the time, but now it has become a part of my mantra, a part of how I relate to the world. It may be one of the most effective lessons my father ever taught me, those quiet words.

It lets me sit back, these days, as others rant on about their lives, or even posture and use my willingness to let their proud words go unchallenged to maintain their own reputation. What do I care if others think me a wealking or a fool for letting someone talk to me like that? Let them think it. Let them drink from the well of ignorance like a lost man from a bottle of cheap whiskey. Let them drink deep, and be filled with the ignorance that comes from listening to the loudest voice in the room.

My challenges will remain unspoken. I wouldn't even dream of calling these people out on their arrogance or breach of trust in private, let alone in public, when the incidents occur. It no longer is my priority to set people straight. Perhaps this is partly because I know that, even if I could do it quietly in private, many of them would feel incensed or offended that I--foolish young arrogant Patrick--had the audacity to point out their own failings to them.

But in that moment when I refuse the opportunity to challenge, Do I abandon my honesty? As much as if I'd said the statement myself?

Would I only be honest if I worked to maintain not only my own honesty but the honesty of all those around me?

And what about those moments when I myself have gone back on my word? There are more than a few people that I've betrayed by careless words or stupid decisions. There is at least one girl I can think of that I basically stabbed in the back, and nothing I can do now, and nothing I can say, can ever bring back her trust in people like me. By being the instrument of destruction, I not only deal damage, but make myself incapable of being an instrument of healing.

And so I look at the words of others and remember that there are other times that I have been no better than them, and in my moment of weakness and failure, none of them called me to the floor, or only one or two did. Meanwhile the rest quietly let me 'be myself' (whatever horrid creature that I may become) without so much as drawing me aside for a quiet word. And so I follow their example. They don't challenge me, I don't challenge them.

And the world turns around. Perhaps, do I lose my honesty not when I refrain from speaking a corrective truth but when I lose my innocence, and begin to realize that we all would rather remain uncorrected?

What does it mean to be Honest?

Am I any closer to the truth?