Veggies & Herbal Butter... And Speaking Up

by Amy

Clara chopped the ends off the fresh carrots and watched Peter toss the tiny new potatoes into boiling water. They’d have a simple dinner tonight of vegetables from the garden with herbs and sweet butter. It was one of their favorite meals in late summer.

I didn’t really make this meal, did I? I started to… I thought herbs and sweet butter? Maybe I’ll try making herbal butter! I’ll take fresh herbs from the garden and smash them into some melted butter and then smear that on some vegetables… I didn’t really have fresh garden vegetables, though. And I made meat for the husband… and I couldn’t resist adding some tomatoes and carrot slices to the skillet afterwards…  The butter ended up being only for the potatoes and a sprinkle on the broccoli. I did enjoy the flavored butter! I used the leftover butter on some pasta for my son the next day. He loved it.

 “So,” she concluded, her plate almost untouched, “I don’t know what to do about Fortin. Should I go into Montreal and speak to him directly about this, or just let it go?”

I totally felt for Clara here. I think that’s the type of question many of us ask ourselves frequently. When should we make our views known? When should we take a stand? When should we confront someone doing something we disagree with? And when should we just let it go?

Peter took another slice of baguette, soft on the inside with a crispy crust. He smeared the butter to the edges, covering every millimeter, evenly. Methodically.Watching him Clara felt she’d surely scream or explode, or at the very least grab the fucking baguette and toss it until it was a grease stain on the wall.Still Peter smoothed the knife over the bread. Making sure the butter was perfect.

Sometimes it’s hard to decide because some things, while important to us, might not really matter in the long run. Like how butter “should” be spread on a slice of baguette. I’m with Clara. I’m sure some people would agree with Peter. No one is really “right”.

A couple of months ago I saw a Facebook rant (I won’t name names) where someone was very bothered because, when flying, the person on the seat in front of her had leaned the seat back. She was angry and posted about how the flier in the seat in front of her had no common courtesy. I mean, how could he? He’d taken up space that was hers… Hilariously enough, the sheer number of antagonistic comments proved that there were passionate people on both sides of the “to-lean-or-not-to-lean” debate. I had a chuckle and moved on.

A few weeks later, my husband was on a plane to England. As soon as he landed, he sent me a shocked (and infuriated) text saying the man seated behind him had ranted and raved and accused him of being an inconsiderate and uncivilized human being because he’d inclined his airplane seat. My husband is 6’5’’. A 10+ hour flight in the upright position (with the seat in front of him inclined, by the way) wasn’t exactly a comfortable flight. He said the guy was spewing such venom that it wasn’t worth arguing over, though. He was shocked. He was even MORE shocked when he heard that a couple of weeks earlier I’d seen a number of people who agreed with angry upright position passenger.

Sorry for the tangent. The point is, if it’s hard to agree on something like inclining seats… imagine how hard it is to agree on other issues that have more cultural or generational biases?

What should he tell her? To forget it? That what Fortin said wasn’t that bad? Certainly not worth risking her career. Just let it go. Besides, saying something almost certainly wouldn’t change Fortin’s mind about gays, and might just turn him against Clara. And this wasn’t some tiny show Fortin was giving her. This was everything Clara had dreamed of. Every artist dreamed of. Everyone from the art world would be there. Clara’s career would be made.

I can understand Peter’s point. It isn’t like anything Clara will say will actually change Fortin’s mind. We rarely do change anyone’s mind just because we preach our own moral code to them. If ever, really.

But that’s not the point, is it? Why would Clara speak to Fortin? Would it be to change him? Or to not allow him to change her?

Should he tell her to let it go, or tell Clara she had to speak to Fortin? For Gabri and Olivier and all their gay friends. But mostly for herself.

And I think that’s the point. But mostly for herself. It is for herself. Ultimately, she speaks to Fortin not because she’s trying to change his behavior, but because her response (or lack of it) defines her own.

Peter dug the tip of the knife into a hole in the bread to get the butter out.He knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know if he’d be saying it for his sake, or for Clara’s.

It’s easy, especially in hindsight, to accuse Peter of self-centeredness and jealousy. I think this is one of his redeeming moments. One of those times where we see the potential for the Peter he eventually becomes. He’s sorely tempted to give an answer to benefit himself. He is incredibly self-aware. I think the first step towards change is awareness. The fact that he acknowledges that his motives may not be the best and holds himself back makes me hopeful for his character.

“Well?” she asked, and heard the impatience in her voice. “Well?” she asked more softly. “What do you think?”

When we decide to speak up, we don’t do it to change the world. At least I don’t think so. When we speak up, we do so in order to take care so the world doesn’t change us. Not that any of us should be immutable. On the contrary, I think growth always involves change. But in which direction? And why? Conformism is dangerously easy. Staying true to yourself and your beliefs isn’t as comfortable. And consciously changing for the better – despite the context and setting – is harder yet.

When we speak up, I don’t think we should expect others to change. We should expect to be challenged, questioned, sometimes ridiculed and confronted. Speaking up should imply a willingness to engage in reflection and debate. It should mean we are sure enough of where we stand that we are ready to defend our point of view, but respectful enough of the other person that we’re willing to listen to their opinion and concede their points. We might even shift our stand, if needed, to accommodate our growing understanding of the issue at hand.

It is not unusual for our discourse to be directed at ourselves. We speak up in order to remind ourselves of what we think and believe and value. We speak up so we do not condone unseemly behavior with our silence.

Peter was right. The likelihood of Fortin changing his opinions or his behavior because an as-yet-unknown artist disagreed with his attitude was slim at best. He was also right in that the reason Clara should speak up was for her own sake.

I frequently tell my son that we cannot change others. We cannot control their behavior. We can only control how we react. It is a valid lesson at any age.

When we talk about setting limits and boundaries, it doesn’t mean controlling what others do. It means establishing what your own limits are and what you will do when someone crosses the line.

Clara couldn’t change Fortin. She couldn’t make him respect Gabri – or anyone else. She could choose and control how she would respond, though.

We cannot demand respect. We cannot demand equality. We cannot demand certain standards of behavior. We cannot demand love. I’m wrong. We can, but that doesn’t mean we’ll get what we ask for. We can determine consequences and make our expectations and beliefs clear. We can establish boundaries and follow through with proper reactions when those boundaries are crossed. We cannot control others, but we can control our own responses. And, in doing so, we can ultimately influence others because we tend to gauge our actions according to expected reactions.

When we speak up we don’t do so to change the world. We do so in an attempt to avoid conformity, to stand our ground so the world doesn’t change us into an unrecognizable version of ourselves. But, in doing so, we become a beacon. Others who think like us are attracted to our stand, to our strength. We influence those around us, slowly and surely. We become an inspiration. When we speak up, we don’t do so to change the world. But, when we speak up, the world changes. A little bit. A drop in the ocean. A little light in the dark. A whisper. It is enough.