While he is thinking, he unexpectedly runs into
Boromir. While Boromir has done a commendable job keeping his personal feelings to himself, he now knows if Frodo
goes east, the Ring will never come to Gondor.
Boromir does not want that.
Boromir asks Frodo to come to Gondor, assuring him it is the
best route to take. Frodo refuses. Boromir becomes offended, and speaks for forcefully. When that doesn't work, “he sprang over the stone and leaped
at Frodo. His fair and pleasant face was
hideously changed, a raging fire was in his eyes.” Frodo slips on the Ring and flees. And while the text shows us how Boromir’s
madness passes him, and that he repents for his actions, Frodo does not see
this. He continues running: “Terror and grief
shook him, seeing in his thought the mad fierce face of Boromir.” That image is etched into his mind.
One common saying I abhor is when a person is said to have “Shown
their true colors.” This is never used
positively. It is always a trickster being
revealed. A friend showing they were
false. A person showing unbridled anger
where first there had been restraint.
Boromir would seem to fit into this category. He has revealed himself as the selfish Man he
is, and that image will forever be in Frodo’s mind. Frodo knows Boromir’s darkest secrets. The secrets he tries to keep even from himself.
But is it fair to judge Boromir like this? Is it fair to judge anyone? Why do we let one moment of evil wipe away so
much good? We can comprehend of a good
person being imperfect, or misguided, but not all and out bad. If they were bad, how could they be good? They are opposites!
One of the more powerful things I’ve heard in the past year
was a quote from a defense attorney.
When defending her clients, she will try to talk about the good they’ve
done in their life. Were they a good
father, a loving partner, a reliable employee?
Can we ignore these things? “Shall
we judge a whole person based on their single worst action?”
This, to me, is the essence of what’s wrong with the “true
colors” sentiment. It simplifies things
too much. When someone unexpectedly
becomes a criminal, the neighbors say “But he was so nice/helpful/friendly.” Why 'but'?
Why can’t criminals be nice? Why
can’t they be kind to their elderly neighbors and also part of gang
violence? Or a sales agent who always makes
quota and also is a abusive towards a partner?
Criminals are not completely bad. Having a bad quality doesn't wipe away the good ones (though the bad may outwiegh the good).
When I was in high school I had a particularly bad break up,
and I remember her accusing me that “You never loved me!” I remember thinking: What’s that got to do with anything?
Saying that because we are breaking up I actually never loved you at all casts
a pretty dark shadow on life. It isn’t
that all good things must come to an end, it’s that all good things were in
fact never good because they end. And that’s
absurd. You can’t judge a whole
experience based on the single worst moment. The bad moments do not wipe away the good.
Frodo, in his fear of Boromir, runs away. We can understand this, but in doing so he
does not know that Boromir repents. He
is so struck with “Terror and grief” that he runs, isolating himself. He believes, if the Ring has seized hold of
Boromir, it will seize control of others, and tear the Fellowship asunder. So Frodo decides, for the good of the
Company, to leave them all behind.
But isolation, while immediately useful at times, are not good
tools for enabling love and understanding.
Frodo wants to isolate himself from “the mad fierce face of Boromir,”
forgetting that this face is only one of many.
Boromir is also strong and valiant and loyal (Bottom left). Is it right to forget all of that in light of
recent events?
Our prison system utilizes this kind of isolation. You are deemed bad for society; you are sent
to a place separate from everyone else. It
is comparable to “time out.” That comparison is fair – when a child behaves
badly s/he is sent alone and loses some play time.
But here’s the difference:
When a child comes out of time-out, there is no lingering cloud. There is no label forever stamped upon
them. They go, but then they return (and
return as fully equal members of the group). When someone is released from prison, even early for good behavior and
having shown honest remorse for their actions, they are forever given a
criminal record. And you better believe
that costs them opportunities. They can
have a great resume, score highly on any test and interview excellently, but if
that employer checks their criminal records (which are usually public, so you
better believe they show up on a Google search), they’ll judge them on that and
find another candidate. Suddenly, they
are judging a whole person on their worst action. They are judging them based on the “mad
fierce face,” and no other.
And don’t tell me that most criminals return to prison after being released, and therefore weren’t suitable for a second chance anyway. After being turned down for one opportunity after another, they have no choice but turn back to crime. No one will give them a legit job, but they still need money for food and clothes and shelter (and that's just for the basest survival)! So they turn to the one network open to them, crime. And then, when they're caught again, no one will want to hire them
because they’ve gone to prison twice. And so it goes.
When we say people are imperfect, I do not think we only
mean they are not saints, striving and sometimes failing. I think we mean, or need to mean, they are messy and a
collection of ideas and actions. You can
be a hard worker and a bad partner, or you can be an unreliable employee and a
great friend. You can be a gunman who shoots
innocent civilians and also a loving son.
I know it sounds contradictory to the point of nauseating, but we need
to challenge our black and white view of criminals. People are more than their single worst action,
and deserve to be treated as such.
I have been thinking about maturity – what signs are there
we can use to see if someone is "mature"? We
all know 22 year-olds who are very mature, and some 30 year-olds who are
not. But what’s a way to define
this? How can we check?
A method I like to use is to ask them a time when they were a
villain. When is a time when they were the bad guy in someone else’s story. We all like to be the hero – but sometimes we
are the villain. And I don’t mean a
villain as in “We obstructed a greater evil” or “I was young and it was fun." I mean a moment where, looking back, you aren’t even
proud. Not necessarily filled with
shame, but you can see, 100%, why you are a villain in that story, and that no
amount of editorializing can change that.
Some honest reflection is needed here.
Anyway, got your story?
Now imagine being judged solely on that story. Shall we judge others on their single worst
action?
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