I Can't Possibly Title This Correctly...

I get funny looks when I'm overheard saying, "I hate people." Most eavesdroppers pay little attention, but the people who know me really well are often perplexed. "I don't get it," they remark, "you always say you hate people, but yet you work on a fire department; always helping people, it doesn't make any sense."

I guess it doesn't really make all that much sense. For someone who spends so much time working in the service of others, it doesn't correlate that I should be angry at the people I assist. The short answer is, I'm not angry or upset with the people I assist. It's a little more complicated than that. I hope you don't mind my lengthy explaination.

I like to think that everyone has some kind of relative worth, some value that makes them through-and-through just human. It's fairer to call it potential, I suppose. I still think that anyone, short of some severe genetic defect, is wholly capable of accomplishing many of the same things in life. If you didn't pass the test, ask yourself, did you give it your all? Is math really not your subject, or did you decide to go to a party instead of going over your notes, and clearing your confusion? I've been told many times, by people smarter than me, that I'm an inteligent individual. I argue that I may sometimes make different decisions, display different actions, and that none of it correlates in any way to the relative computing power of my noggin'.

To be fair I need to qualify the word 'people'. People, the collective term, in my eyes, is the group of individuals who consistently make choices that negatively affect their potential, or thr potential and well-being of individuals around them. No one is perfect, everyone makes mistakes. I miss the occasional assignment, elect to engage in more satisfying activities as opposed to getting work done sometimes, but on the whole I like to think that when the going gets tough, when the right decision has to be made, most of the time I'll lean towards it.

People chase steretypes - define their lives not by their own internal standards, but by the judgement of a group - a group that is itself composed of individuals who care little of setting internal standards high, who are self exploitative, and selfish.

People don't hold open doors for other individuals.

People don't use blinkers, and sure as hell don't let you merge.

People pick up wallets and keep them, or at least the cash.

People don't write or call without motive.

Humans, on the other hand, are the anthithesis. They smile and say hello, whether they know you or not. They let you ahead in line because they see you have 2 items, while they have many more. They understand that there are many belief systems, many values and ideologies, and while they have their own, they feel no compulsion for you to know what those beliefs are.

When an individual calls for help, they are no longer people, not matter how much they once were. For a moment they are the victim, requesting assistance concerning a situation that is out of their control, and threatens their well-being, and therefore their potential. My house is on fire, please put it out so my children may continue to have a roof over their head. I have chest pains, and I am scared. Someone ran a red light and hit me - or I admit I ran light, and I hit them. It doesn't really matter, the point is that if I let my distaste for people, which I refer to, with some trepedation, as misanthropy, stop me from going out of my way to reach out to a nieghbor in need and assist them to the best of my ability, then I, too, am people.

It is the responsiblty of humans, as I define them, to set examples. It is the responsibilty of people, then, to realize that following is still following, and that examples only allow a platform for fundamental change.



My real point in writing this, is in tribute to someone I honestly only knew marginally well, but who had ambitions and hopes, and who was, without a doubt, far from being just people. When we lose someone like that - and we all lose them on some level, whether we know it or not - the world darkens just another degree, and you allow this disquieting feeling to sit in the back of your brain and tease at you. With such an over abundance of people, humans are a precious commodity, and it is important that all of us, every single one of us, celebrates the life of a loved one passed, especially so young, because when they take it onto themselves to try and become something, and their opportunity is removed by an unknown and seemingly unfair force, outside of anyone's control, we sometimes lose site of joy that was the life of this individual, and the happiness of the times we spent and treasure, and remark only the tragedy.

Remember that there was that joy. Remember that there was that happiness. No one, no people, can take that away. I write this for someone special to me, in hopes that in time my interpretation of the world may help ease some pain, and because I feel it's important that we remember him fondly, and define his life not by his death. I hope that I am helping, I fear that I am not.