Lesson on the side of the road

On a recent drive through a sleepy South Carolina town, I noticed someone sitting on the side of the road. Probably waiting for someone to pick him up, I thought, only to drive by and see his hand raised and his middle finger extended. It was not directed at me anymore than the cars ahead and behind me. It was meant for all of us and the sight haunted me ever since.

What would make him do such a thing? Had something recently happened, or was it his response to his overwhelming despair? In the midst of such divisive times, was this his form of expressing himself?

As sad and foolish as I thought the scene was, I also understood his frustration, anger, and despair. While I’ve not sat by the roadside making such a gesture, in my heart I’ve chosen battle lines with those who do not think, believe, or vote the way I do. In the safety of my car, I could admit I was not all that different from the man I passed.

But as I continued on my way, I moved from specific issues that might have troubled him to the fact that, deep down, he must not feel like he matters, that the world doesn’t care, or that he is no longer seen (if he ever was). Suddenly, my reflections moved from my head to my heart. I no longer thought of the man as a stranger on the side of the road, but a human being not unlike myself.

We all need some sense that we matter. We all need to be seen … by somebody! Without such connections, we become lonely, lost, and without hope. In such darkness, we get angry and take on such a disinterested world, like the man did, or, worse, we give up completely.

I confess that my initial reaction to the man was a desire to lift my own finger, but I didn’t. Instead, I spent the next two hours thinking about him and wished I had pulled over, sat beside him, and asked what led him to do such a thing. I’m not sure I was brave enough to ask. I’m not sure he was willing to answer. It’s easier to lift a finger or keep driving, which seems to be the problem this world has right now.