Thursday, January 27, 2011

Work Hard. Be Nice.

In Dutch, we have an expression that says “Als iedereen voor zijn eigen deurtje veegt, is heel de straat netjes” (If everyone sweeps in front of their own door, the whole street will be clean). I learned it when I was five years old. Our teacher Miss Bernadette used it all the time. In her classroom, it meant many things.


She used it when she wanted us all to mind our own business. She didn't want us to be judgmental about the others around us. At lunch, we had to watch our own plate, not the one of the kid next to us, which was kind of handy for me. I was the child with the gluten-free bread that used to crumble so badly that it looked like it had snowed breadcrumbs all over me when I was done with lunch.





Obviously, it also meant that we were accountable for our own little yard. You don’t have to try and solve all of the world’s problems. You can just try to change the world one small step at a time in your own garden or street. Yesterday, I could hear Miss Bernadette’s voice loud and clear. I was walking out of the door to go to the Bart station when I noticed a guy throwing garbage out of his Jeep. I am a little anal and sometimes also a bit bossy and I really dislike it when people litter the street with their junk. This seemed like a suitable occasion to apply my friend Olivier’s trick. I walked over to the truck and picked up some of the garbage Litter Guy had thrown out.


“Excuse me. I think you lost something.”

“No, I didn’t.”


I picked up some of his peanut shells. Litter Guy and I were now eye-in-eye.


“Oh, it’s right here. Is this yours? Shall I put it back in your car?”

“No!”

“I live right across from here. It’s really unpleasant when people throw stuff out on the street.”


Hmm, that came out pretty self-righteous. I really wanted this dude to pick up his trash and take it home with him. But I am not a police officer so I really had to come up with more compelling arguments. And right on time, Miss Bernadette’s useful one-liner came to my mind and I asked him overly friendly: “Do you also do this at home? You just throw your garbage on the floor?”






Oh oh! All of a sudden, it looked like this wasn’t going to end nicely. The guy reached in his glove compartment and my heart started racing. What if he was taking out a gun or a knife? I tried to pretend that I was unafraid. Criminals smell it when you’re afraid, just like dogs. I was already thinking of the headlines “Young (well, not that young) woman killed over peanut shells on Guerrero and 24th.” I smiled meekly and the guy opened a small Walgreen’s bag. Oh my God! Was that a gun that I saw blinking in the sun? Jeezes, why hadn’t I just been minding my own business? He opened the door of his car and stepped out. Ugh! He opened the plastic bag, kneeled down and started to collect the trash he had just thrown out. I could hear Miss Bernadette yelling at me: “Way to go, guys!”

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