Another's Moccasins

Don’t judge someone until you walk a mile in his moccasins.

Many of us have heard some version of this Native American proverb. I recently read on someone’s blog about an incident that is familiar to most of us. Have you ever been annoyed in a store or restaurant or on a plane by a child misbehaving? What was your reaction? We might think that the child is a brat, that the mother is a bad mother, that kids these days are not taught good manners, that the civilized world is going down the toilet.

More times than not, when my son James was growing up, I was the mother with the misbehaving child. James was a beautiful little boy (everyone said so!). When you looked at him, you could not tell that he was autistic. But his behavior often left something to be desired. He would not look you in the eye. He liked to make animal noises. He had a low tolerance for certain stimuli, such as an amplified voice, crowds, being touched. He did not like a change in plans, or a disappointed expectation. Of course, many kids and even adults share some of these traits. But for James, something he did not like could cause a total meltdown, with screaming and crying. Once his anxiety began to escalate, it was very difficult to avoid a tantrum, and once triggered, the tantrum wrecked the rest of the day.

Taking him anywhere was always stressful. I had to think about where we were going and what might happen there. I had to be careful about what I told him, so that I didn’t set up an expectation that might get disappointed. I was his minesweeper, going before him to discover and avoid places and scenarios that I knew would cause an explosion.

Trying to engage in normal activities, like going to the grocery store, often left me drained and in despair. More times than I can remember, as James began to whine and ramp up, I could see eyes darting my way, lips pursing, eyebrows frowning, heads shaking. I wanted to scream, “He’s autistic! I’m doing the best I can. I just need to get something for dinner.”

Once I took him to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal. After he ate, he wanted to play in the plastic ball pit. He got in and started jumping around. He was having a great time. Then a little girl got in, too. James was ignoring her, but he was making his animal sounds and the little girl got nervous. (Who could blame her?) I was trying to coax James back to the entrance to leave, but he was at the far side. The little girl’s dad looked quizzically at James and then began to scowl. “Your son should not be in there if you can’t control him.” I went home and cried.

I am not denying that there are bratty kids out there, or bad moms. And I’m not denying that James had his bratty moments, or that I had my bad mom moments (more than I care to remember). My point is that we don’t always know what is going on in someone else’s life. Perhaps the mother who appears to be ignoring her misbehaving child is overwhelmed. Perhaps the child has OCD or autism or something else that affects her behavior.

Rushing to judgment blocks our ability to feel and express compassion. When I was in a position to explain what was going on with James, I found people to be universally kind and supportive. Now that James is grown, his disability is immediately apparent and people are quick to be friendly. When we have information, we often put our best foot forward. When we don’t have information, perhaps we could put that same foot in the other person’s moccasin.