Once upon a time, a powerful ruler publicly humiliated a simple woman. He invited her as a guest of honor to an annual celebration, but instead of honoring her, the ruler heaped ire and abuse upon her, attacking her character, honor, and integrity. She helplessly endured it in silence while her friends and colleagues silently watched. No one spoke up or even stood beside her. Her seat of honor at a celebration was instead a seat of scorn.
Those same friends and colleagues privately came to her afterwards and affirmed their love and support for her. The ruler also visited the woman and apologized very sincerely for his hurtful and unfair behavior and invited her to another celebration. She was not attacked this time, but the previous injustice was ignored, and she left more wounded than ever, because private praise rarely heals public wounds, and neither do secret apologies. Such a broken heart simply festers.
I share this little parable because I am often asked how people can affirm support for their local educators, and I believe it is how we choose to respond when someone sits defenseless in the seat of scorn. Like the simple woman in our parable, local educators often sit alone and humiliated in the public eye, but this is not just happening to school staff. Police officers and healthcare workers have been targeted mercilessly, and likewise, volunteer elected officials like school board members and city council members. Still yet, the seat of scorn is not limited to these leaders or professions.
Ask the men and women at the drive-thru windows and convenience store counters how often they are cussed or insulted lately. Ask your bus drivers, your cooks, your custodians, or your school secretaries how people often treat them. Ask the tellers at the bank, your servers, your pastors. Ask your friends and family, and ask the person in the mirror, for you probably have felt it, too. Yes, local educators currently feel isolated and humiliated at the seat of scorn, but they are not alone in regard to feeling so alone.
Such treatment is often face-to-face, but nowadays, anyone can be abused publicly by petty tyrants on social media. Simple folks retreat to social media for a celebration with friends and family, but they quickly find themselves sitting ducks in the virtual seat of scorn. Despite dozens and dozens of “friends” looking on, people rarely stand beside them publicly. An avalanche of support may pour in privately, but private praise and secret apologies never heal public wounds; they just make it worse.
I am often asked what our local educators need, and it is the same thing everyone else needs right now: someone . . . anyone . . . brave enough to stand beside them at the seat of scorn. Whether online in social media or in line at the store, people should not suffer alone when someone browbeats them for the higher cost of a fountain drink or for simply being a healthcare provider, police officer, or educator. We should never return bad behavior with worse behavior, but we can always walk across the room and stand beside them, so they know they are not alone. I wonder how many times I have personally been guilty of being a bystander.
When schoolkids receive anti-bully training, they learn that being a bystander simply fuels the bad behavior. As a result, children learn to be upstanders. Simply standing up with the person often neutralizes the bully, and the person is no longer alone. Instead of silently watching when someone is humiliated in the seat of scorn, we should be like our children. We should stand beside them, whether online or in person, because private praise and secret apologies afterwards never help. We all know the hot seat of scorn, so let’s be upstanders rather than bystanders when it happens in our communities. Please pray for restored civility in our communities, the courage to stand with each other, and above all, the safety of our schools this Second Sunday of the Month.
Tom Deighan is superintendent of Duncan Public Schools. You may email him at deighantom@gmail.com and read past articles at www.mostlyeducational.com