The (Rare) Kindness Conundrum

We often want to put ourselves out there and do something kind for a stranger. Sometimes, our minds jump to the worst possible reaction to it. And I’m here to tell you that sometimes that worst case can come true. Not in the big moments, but with little ones. We can’t possibly know how evolved or emotionally intelligent a stranger is. You hope they’ll find themselves valueable enough to accept a random act of generosity. But sometimes they don’t.

For fun, I’m called a grammar nazi by some friends. But I don’t call people out in public. It’s just shitty to do that because someone has either made an error or they simply don’t know. It’s not my responsiblity to teach them.

The other day, I was on Threads when a fellow author published a message with a grammar error. She had JUST done it and I thought, if it was me, I’d like someone to tell me. So, I sent her a quick DM to say, hey, you might want to check over that post. Then I went on about my day. She didn’t notice my DM for a couple of days so when she replied and asked what I meant, I had to think about it for a moment. Then I said, Oh, it was an errant apostrophe.

The answer came, “Who cares?” Fair enough. I said I thought you might but that’s okay. Nevermind. Just trying to help.

Then I got a little diatribe about stopping being the “copy editor to the world.” Ummm, what now? She assumed, I suppose, that I sat at my keyboard all day just waiting for mistakes. Then, like the monster I am, I’d tell the author about it in private! She sent more about AI and human errors but I had tuned out by then.

The correct answer was, “thanks.” Not being able to recognize it as an act of kindness is on her, not me.

Will I reach out to someone again in a similar manner? I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll turn the Boomer tables on them and determine what generation they’re from first. (Even though I’m not a Boomer.) I don’t like to assume but sometimes assumptions can fit. It was a spontaneous in-the-moment thing. The fellow authors I know would appreciate it as I know I would. But no good deed goes unpunished, as they say.

Like Daughter, Like Mother

Long, long ago, when Oprah was touting Random Acts of Kindness, my mom wanted in on the action. Mom was a serial donation-maker. Her empathy cup was always overflowing. So, one day she decided to pay for a stranger’s coffee at the drive-thru.

She got through, took her coffee, and hit the road. Next thing she knew, the person whose coffee she had purchased was close behind her honking, gesturing for her to pull over. My tiny mom stopped on the shoulder and this thirty-something man got out of his car. He came over and put his face up to my mom’s rolled-down window.

“Do I know you?” he barked.

“No, I don’t think so,” mom answered.

“Then why did you pay for my coffee?”

Mom was close to tears at this point. “B-because it’s an Oprah thing. A random act of kindness. Just something small. You’re supposed to pay it forward.”

The man never said thank-you. He grumbled, went back to his car, and drove off. Mom was shaking like a leaf. She called me and was so upset, she said she’d never do anything like that again.

Ah, but friends, she did. She realized that this guy was an outlier she had the misfortune to encounter. She paid for many more coffees and never had anything like that happen again.

The great thing is that most people recognize kindness when it’s shown to them. Even if they don’t want it or particularly like it, they have enough manners to be grateful. There will always be a few who don’t. But that’s on them, not on you, and certainly not on my mother.