Bubble-Gum Conscience

You knew it when it happened. You will always remember the first day you took something without asking. You stole it, and depending on your character, you stopped immediately or continued being a thief. Yes, you knew it was wrong by the rush of adrenaline, and quick heartbeat. You knew it when your knees shook, and you knew it by the emotion that came with it. Yes, that day is a story of all of us, and you have a similar one in a billion different places, and billions of different outcomes.

Here is the story where I discovered Conscience, and at the time, I did not fully understand it:

“The day I took the pack of gum is one of my earliest memories. I must have been six years old when I took it in the checkout line. My mind, my heart quickened impossibly to create the memory I share now. I put it in my pocket, and made it to the black Subaru still nervous because I knew it was not right. My dad looked behind and saw Juicy Fruit in my hand. ‘Where did you get that?’

I said nothing.

He pulled the parking brake, and said ‘Come on. Let’s go.’

He opened my door and motioned to Wegmans Grocery. I could hardly breathe. Every step was long and horrible. I was shaking and protesting; a knot lodged in my throat. Right to the manager’s counter, I stooped piteously. I couldn’t even look at the man. Dad made me show the yellow pack. ‘Tell him what you did.’

I answered pathetically. Trembling. The world was a weeping cloud of chaos.

‘Now give it back and say you are sorry.’

I obeyed immediately.

‘You will never do that again, will you?’

I shook my head wiping my wet, snotty face. I could not breathe, I could not talk, and I could not even be human. It was, up until then, the worst day of my life. It was nearly thirty-five years ago; and it was yesterday.”

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As yet my memory is crystal-clear, I decided to call my Dad and ask him about the incident. Surely he had a better memory of it than I did:

“I took you to the store with me. When we got home I think you were ah-little guilty. You reached into your pocket, showed me the gum, and said, ‘Look!’

‘Where did you get that?’

‘The store.’ I knew you didn’t have any money.

‘You took it?’

‘Yes.’

‘We’re going back, and you have to tell the manager what you did.’

You were pretty scared, but you did tell me years later that it taught you a good lesson.”

What made me an absolute mess? What about my story is also your story in countless ways? It is your Conscience. It is your Dad, it is your Mom who did you the greatest service of your life when they affirmed your gift of Conscience. What separates us from animals is our Conscience: the given ability to know right from wrong. We remember the day because of the emotions we felt just like we remember all the highs in life: stealing, the first kiss, the first fight, the day you were married; all of it. It is a snapshot of a moment in life you will not easily forget. You either embrace what is right in life; embrace Conscience, or you stifle Conscience, and embrace what is wrong. Yes. You know what is right. You know what is wrong. Therefore, you know, or once knew, what is good, and what is evil. Your Conscience is the great arbiter of your life, and it is what separates you from beasts.

If your parents are teachers enough to recognize the moment, they take it with full force. I was blessed with a Dad that saw the event unfold, and was there to make sure I did the right thing. It was not that I didn’t know what was wrong, I did know; it was that my Dad cared enough to go through the awful event with me. Without his intervention, I might have done it again even if just for the adrenaline rush – growing up just like every other thief: a miserable, blame-shifter wed to the proposition that everything is to blame but himself.

Thanks dad, for scaring the hell out of me.

“No other success can compensate for failure in the home.”

- J.E. McCulloch