The Languages of Kindness and Brutality

"Ouch!" Orville Windsor cried out, massaging the right side of his head. Turning around to face his Aunt Jelesa, his mother's youngest sister.

He explained, "I wasn't doing anything illegal."

"Boy," his aunt cried out reaching for the nearest weapon in the kitchen, "Being a lookout while gang members rob our community Deli is a crime."

Orville read her intention and raced towards the back kitchen door. Being a Yoga/fitness instructor, she flew over the countertop like a bird going after its meal and was at the rear door, waiting for him - his mom's cast iron frying pan in her right hand.

"What do you think?" she demands, staring him down. "You think this is a joke?" The rage in her eyes hauls the fear from every corner of his body, mind, and soul, paralyzing him. All six foot three inches, almost eighteen years old, one hundred and eighty-nine pounds of masculinity, bulging muscles, and ego stood quivering, his body floating side to side like a weak branch in storm winds. She proceeds slowly towards him, his eyes focused on her switching the cast iron pot between hands, leveling him with her stare laced with rage.

He glanced around backing away, then cried out as he hit the locked door out of the kitchen, "Mom, don't let her hurt me," he begged, realizing that there was no way out this time. 

Jodie, his mother, calmly sat around the table a few feet away, her hands clasp, under her chin, both elbows rested on the oval glass top table. She eyed her son and counsels, "Boy, you don't listen to your parents, other family members, our pastor, your guidance counselor, your doctors, God or, anyone else. Parents can teach so much. Life has many languages, but most parents use these two when raising children. The language of kindness, or the language of brutality."

"Please, Mom," he begged.

"The only language you seem to understand is the one that is associated with cruelty and pain," his mother persists. "If I don't slap you around, you don't do the right things. The doctors can't find anything wrong with your brain. So, tell me," His mother asked. "Why. Why do you make it so difficult for everyone around you and yourself too?"

"I don't know. But don't I have a right to live my own life?" he defends, staring at his aunt, whose eyes were focused on him from across the room, waiting.

His mother sighed deeply, eyeing her sister, then eased back in the chair and continued, "of course you do. But you do that when you are living your life for yourself."

Glancing between his mother and his aunt, Orville demands, "Who am I living my life for?"

"Right now, you are under my roof, and you are also underage. So, your father and I are responsible for all of your stupid mistakes," she tosses at him angrily. "And until you are eighteen years old in a few months and are on your own, you are living your life for me!"

"It's my life!" he fumes back.

"I believe that as long as there are laws that will hold me responsible for your stupid actions, choices, and decisions, you are going to live your life for me!" His mother repeats.

The wind announces its presence with force through the four open windows, as rage dominates the kitchen. The curtain stood at attention because nothing moved!

Pushing through, his mother continues, "Vital life lessons are taught through two portals. You can learn from humans with less pain and more wisdom. Or you can learn from life with lasting pain, and that is if you survive."

Rage still controls the reigns as two pairs of eyes held Orville in place.

As he slowly slumps to the ground, his mother quickly said, "let him stay there. Life teaches us more lessons when we are down than when we are up."

My world is a violent one, and it taught me that life lessons must be heeded if I want to stay alive. From living and studying my world and humans, I discovered that some people respond positively to kindness, while some don't.

Why is that?

I also realized that the language of brutality is understood, obeyed, and respected more often than the language of kindness. And fear must be applied to life's equation before some humans are encouraged to do the right thing.

Why is that?

Kindness is usually allowed to fall asleep. Yet inhumanity and cruelty are always awake. And many humans aid in keeping infamy alive. I am aware that the lack of discipline contributes to chaos, but kindness is an antidote to many of our world's problems.

 Why is it difficult for many humans to respond positively to the generosity they benefited from in the past?

As a parent while instilling discipline, I realize that two of my children will respect and obey the rule of law without pain while reacting positively to the kindness and love I give to them. While the other two must feel pain before they realized that what they are doing is wrong, with little regard to the acts of kindness they receive. 

In my culture, we believe certain bad habits in children must be stopped before they reached adulthood. 

Which two children are right?

Thank you for reading this piece. I hope you enjoyed it.