On confronting ignorance with patience over anger

This week I experienced an episode of one of life's "teachable moments," giving me a taste of what the difficult days of my future career might look like -- the face-palm worthy parts that might make me wonder why I chose it in the first place.

I misplaced my car keys, and an acquaintance I'll call "Suzy" found them. She noticed that I carry a "rape whistle," which is more for my mother's comfort than my own. In reality, that would be the last thing I'd think to use if I was being attacked. I'd probably be too busy running and/or fighting for my life to bother fumbling through my purse for it.

Anyway, I jokingly said "Yes, that is my rape whistle," to which the teenage girl replied "I wouldn't fight back if that happened to me. I mean hello, it's free sex! And no one will think you're a slut for giving in because, you know, you could say you were raped."

I wasn't the only person to hear this. Another girl standing nearby immediately turned around, and she was just as shocked and dumbfounded as I was. "How could you think something like that, much less say it?!" she demanded.

Suzy simply shrugged and quipped "Well, if you're not getting any..."

I was torn between wanting to literally shake some sense into that girl, walking away and ignoring her completely, or -- God forbid -- taking the time to attempt educating her.

As a future chaplain in a crisis center -- if that's where God still wants me -- I can't shake sense into every ignorant client, obviously. This is not the first bout of ignorance I will face, and it will not be the last. My patience and tolerance levels will have to approve tremendously if I am to succeed in this field. Perhaps this episode is my first training session.

In a strange, back-handed sort of way, I actually envy Suzy for being able to afford that kind of ignorance. More likely than not, she hasn't experienced the trauma of a sexual assault. She's lucky she has not the foggiest clue what she's talking about. As offensive as her comment was, I sincerely hope that she never has to learn first-hand just how wrong her thought process is about this issue.

I consider it a small miracle that I was able to take a breath, compose myself, and say calmly in response "You know Suzy, you wouldn't think that way if it happened to you."

She didn't do much more than shrug me off with a "Whatever," but my point was clear. The other girl who overheard the exchange thanked me for attempting, however feebly, to set Suzy straight.

Episodes like these make me all the more cautious of the words I choose, and how I use them. It also makes me aware of the possible damage that can occur by speaking blithely of things I know nothing about. You never know who might be listening.