There are a lot of people attempting to pass judgment on me, and believe me, it’s happening to you, too. But don’t worry. I’m about to put all those critical folks in their respective places. The following is a list of people who I don’t think have the right to judge me…
My parents. They’re good people, but they are sadly misinformed on what I’m actually “about.” How about you two walk a mile in the shoes you bought me before telling me that I make too many frivolous purchases? You’re the ones who bought the tennis shoes I lost a week later at the Denver airport, not me. So who’s spending their money poorly now? If your parents are dead, then I am very sorry, but don’t for one second think that their ghosts aren’t silently, spiritually reprimanding you for everything you do. This should be all the more frightening to you because ghosts can really go wherever they want. In a very Santa-esque way, they see you when you’re sleeping (through your 10 a.m. lecture), they know when you’re awake (at 3 a.m. on a Wednesday). I’m 90 percent sure that when people use the expression “prepare to meet your maker” they don’t mean God, they mean you’re going to meet your mom, who has been watching you fail to meet her expectations from beyond the grave for years.
Santa. You get the picture, he just wants all those toys for himself.
My professors. They say that your grades don’t define you, and I agree. Unless I have a particularly good one. In that case, that professor sees and knows the truest part of my soul. But honestly, you only see me a few hours a day and during that time, you hardly ever have to listen to my voice. Sure, I looked attentive when you were giving your lecture on verbatim theatre, but in reality I was thinking about those frogs that freeze solid during the winter and thaw back to normal in the spring. They use nucleating proteins, but that’s not relevant to this U.S. Diversity in Theatre course.
Myself. Imagine living with someone and seeing every tiny thing they do and don’t do. Don’t you think that would lead to bias? Well that’s how I, and I’m assuming some of you readers, live life everyday. Every second of my life I am forced to watch myself make decisions that may not be best for me and may actually be harmful to myself. But I am unable to evaluate impartially because I know all of the reasons for all of my choices. Frankly, it’s frustrating and it’s exhausting. I am simply too prejudiced to make an honest assessment of myself.
God. I know what you’re thinking — if there’s any third party that should be allowed to pass judgment on me, it’s God. But I don’t agree that the big man should get to make those decisions considering that He is perfect. It would be like Rembrandt taking time out of his day to bash a five-year-old’s self portrait — embarrassing for both parties. While the child’s self-esteem is degraded, you can’t help but wonder why one of history’s greatest artists even bothered to speak to a kindergartener about their lack of dimension. So no, I don’t think the flawless entity with infinite perspective should get to judge the person who can’t even see the physical world without glasses.
You. Please be nice to me.
The sad truth of it all is that many of these people will continue to criticize both you and I for as long as they live (and beyond). In fact, I’m sure all of you readers have some idea of what I am like just from this article. Ideally, you pick out my best attributes — like my cleverness and my ability to tactfully address sensitive situations, like the death of a parent. But I cannot decide what you infer from the text. All I can hope is that you understand sarcasm and can see that I don’t actually believe in Santa. Santa is for children. If you can’t tell that this article is supposed to be humorous, then, well, I guess I’m judging you pretty hard.
