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Now, I naturally object to power, but I think that’s primarily because of all the extremely flawed authority figures I’ve had. I can really only think of one or two supervisors that I could stand, in forty five years of working. I was born a rebel, but I really think I would have been perfectly respectful if I’d been managed by Huey Long or John F. Kennedy types. When you’re young and naive, you expect those in power to be consistent and fair. It didn’t take long for me to recognize that this just wasn’t the case. I saw far more evidence of favoritism than competence. People with power abusing it, against the advice Uncle Ben gave Peter Parker. Perhaps others had different, more positive experiences.
The dictionary defines “meek” as “quiet, gentle, and easily imposed on.” That doesn’t sound too bad, does it? Don’t we all like gentle people? It takes a quiet person to mesh with extroverted talkers like me. Meek people don’t know how to say “no,” thus are “easily imposed on.” Salespersons lick their chops at the prospect of pushing them into buying whatever it is they’re selling. Even if they figure out they’ve been ripped off, or taken advantage of, the meek won’t complain. They certainly won’t file a lawsuit. The meek are never on offense. When forced to react, they do so as submissively as possible.
I unhappily discovered as a child that those in charge, of families and workers, and voters, were seemingly all hard-hearted. Tough. Strict. I learned this from personal experience, and reading too many fairy tales. The works of Charles Dickens- whom I consider the greatest writer to ever lift a pen- are replete with this. Oliver Twist, David Copperfield and company spent miserable childhoods being shuttled between one abusive adult or another. Where was the kindness in the adult world?
Why did it seem confined to the likes of the middle-aged laborer trembling over an undeserved tongue lashing from his bellicose boss, who was somehow said to be his “superior?” Authority figures are valued for their non-meekness. Think drill sergeants. Has anyone at the top of any organization ever said, “I want to give authority to someone who is kind hearted and fair minded. Who will wield power responsibly and in an even handed manner.” Who values tenderness and generosity in a person? Who in power prefers diplomacy to confrontation? Who stresses leniency anywhere now, except on the occasions when it isn’t warranted? It’s a sad fact that the majority of the spectators, let alone the powers that be, prefer the victimizer to the victim, the bully to the bullied, the sinner to the faithful, the wrongdoers to the whistleblower.
I’ve met many meek people in my life. The kind that the wonderful Sermon on the Mount assures us will one day inherit the earth. That’s an inspirational prospect, because the meek live their lives on the present uninherited earth as largely second- class citizens. No Affirmative Action for them. The meek are by far the most likely to be bullied as children. Read my book Bullyocracy for endless true anecdotes. This scars them to such an extent that they become even meeker adults, providing perfect targets for the non-meek, who almost always have some kind of authority over them. There are other disparaging terms for them; from wallflower to weird.
I’ve always been drawn to the meek. To me, it seems like what should be the natural state for man. Or woman. Or, I suppose, transgender. From childhood to the present day, I feel uncomfortable around those who exude a threatening aura. A suggestion that things could get physical if they took exception to something you said. Obviously, there is no threat of anything like that with a meek person. They literally won’t even raise their voice. I worked with a meek guy for years, who used to take out his frustrations on himself. He might beat the wall, or throw his watch off and stomp on it. But he would never do anything (or really say anything) to those tormenting him.
Clearly, I was most influenced on this issue by my brother Ricky. He was absolutely the meekest person I’ve ever known. If they had a Hall of Fame for meekness, he’d certainly be inducted. Ricky never fought back. Against the bullies who tripped him up in the high school cafeteria. Or the employees who beat him up regularly during the years he worked at the old People’s Drug store. Or the family members who only gave him negative attention, in the rare moments they stopped ignoring him. And at me, who spent far too much time ranting at him over behavior he just couldn’t change, including ironically not fighting back at those who harassed and ridiculed him.
I was too little to try and defend him from the high school bullies, or the vile co- workers at People’s Drug. But I tried later. It was never easy. He had some insane roommates. One threatened to stab him several times. The apartment management, naturally, sided with the roommate. I attempted to talk with him, but he was clearly out of his mind. I feared he might try to stab me, too. Another one assaulted him, and we had to take out a restraining order. The housing program he was in forced Ricky to move, not the mentally disturbed roommate. I defended him to countless employers, who would fire him for the most absurd reasons. Reasons reserved for meek people like him. That was basically Ricky’s life story.
Maybe that’s why I’m writing about this. I still think about Ricky every day, and the way he was murdered by hospital protocol. He exemplified what so many meek individuals go through. Treated insensitively by everyone. Laughed at by everyone. Never given a fair chance. Never given a break in life. I loved The Andy Griffith Show, but I could especially relate to the episode about a character, Henry Bennett, whom Barney Fife insisted was a “jinx.” That was Ricky. Like Henry Bennett, if they’d tried to rig a contest for him to win, he would have picked the size tag out of the hat, too. The only defender, or support system, Ricky ever had in life, after my mother died, was me. And I was a very, very flawed defender.
I feel confident that few if any meek persons have ever won the lottery. Few of them probably even buy tickets for it. I know Ricky never did. I think they realize instinctively that they have no chance at winning. At anything. They are completely accustomed to losing. Ricky had no luck at all. I used to say that he was born with a black cloud over his head. I also used to refer to him as the Luckless Wonder. Not directly to him, of course. But he wouldn’t have really objected if I had. I think this is probably true of most meek persons. No luck. No winning.
The theme of luck was a subtext of my book Survival of the Richest. Meek people can also be victims of circumstance. If he’d been born to great wealth, for instance, even with the exact same personality, Ricky would have attracted someone and lived out a normal existence. So many people, especially the meek and timid who find it hard to advocate for themselves, lack only a fortunate break; a good bounce, the right person taking an interest in them, or being in the right place a the right time, in order to transform their lives for the better. So much in life is luck. I’ve known people who had inconceivably good luck. And others, like my brother, who had no luck.
But why should meekness, timidity, submissiveness in an individual be a veritable chain around their neck? Why should being meek and mild-mannered go hand in hand with being bullied, lonely, and unhappy? What does that say about our society? What with the constant calls for “diversity,” why don’t they want to include the meek? Wouldn’t any company become truly more “diverse” with meek workers in the midst? Ones that wouldn’t try to shirk their duties? Or report you to HR for something ridiculous? No chance of being sexually harassed by the meek. They won’t say anything “offensive,” because most of them are scared to say anything at all.
No one talks about this subject. There are no “meekness” group therapy sessions. No meekness “awareness.” The meek are just there, as they’ve always been. To push around. To take your frustrations out on. To make yourself look better in front of others. And in the ultimate irony, while meek individuals continue to suffer in our cockeyed world, the vast majority of human beings certainly meet the definition of subservient. Submissive in the face of unprecedented tyranny. Collectively, they are better at following orders than the meekest man, woman, or transgender on earth. Lacking patience with the truly meek, they have infinite patience with the authorities.
The Sermon on the Mount has always been my favorite passage in the Bible. The truth in the words can be felt in the heart, and in the soul. “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.” So many people lack a sympathetic arm around them, or even an encouraging word, to provide just a bit of comfort. “Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.” This one really resonates. It’s a restating of the Golden Rule, which very few believe in, let alone follow. “Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.” Geez, that leaves out pretty much anyone in power, doesn’t it? And, of course, “Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.” Not the aggressive, the confident. The meek. Poor souls like Ricky.
The meek are never promoted at any workplace. The excuse would be that they wouldn’t be able to command the “respect” of those they supervised. Which is true. With ghetto culture having thoroughly familiarized the rest of us with the problem of being “disrespected,” the meek should be nodding in appreciation. But they probably aren’t. No one respects the meek, least of all themselves. Even some normally polite people understand that they don’t have to be nice to the meek. The meek won’t be offended, and surely won’t hold it against them. No civility is needed with the meek. Those meek individuals who manage to find a partner are totally controlled by them. They become henpecked husbands and abused wives.
Ricky had one chance at marriage. A girl loved him once, in her way, but she was utterly dominant over him. She resented his loyalty to my elderly mother. She wanted him to move across country with her. They would have been married, probably had children. But Ricky remained, because he was primary caregiver for my mother, and his loyalty to her outweighed this sole matrimonial prospect. She was no prize package, being very bitchy, bossy, and unfriendly. But she had a good job, and might have given Ricky an entirely different life. I know it would have completely changed my life. I did help out with my mother pretty much, but I would have had to become her caregiver. That was especially hard on Ricky when she developed Alzheimer’s.
Who knows how many meek people never even had the chance of dubious happiness that Ricky did? I don’t know how many of the meek died virgins in the past, but America 2.0 is creating lots more middle-age virgins, and while not all are meek, you can bet that many of the meek are among them. If your peers struggle just not to ridicule or bully you, how many of them could be expected to be romantically attracted to you? “It’s a cold, cruel world,” my mother used to counsel me as a child. The truth in that cynical saying has become crystal clear to me. And it is colder and crueler to the meek than the rest of us.
Considering the state of the earth, the meek may well turn it down. Presumably, this would be a cleaned up, spruced up earth that they would inherit. Although is “inherit” here another way of saying “take over?” What kind of earth would it be, with the meek in charge? Unless you could keep the usual suspects from becoming their advisors and handlers, it probably wouldn’t be much different. Certainly less war. Less corruption. But it’s hard to say what the meek would do, given power after never having had it. Remember the great Lord Acton declared that “power corrupts.” They might exhibit more Stockholm Syndrome and try to please those that hate them.
That’s the thing about those who are easily swayed and manipulated. They have spent so little time exerting their own will, that they may not be able to do so. So on this inherited earth, it better be free of those who would seek to control and persuade them. Which would be just about everyone else. Imagine a “Lord of the Flies” with only the weakest, most bullied kids on an island. Would anyone take charge? Leadership is necessary in all things. I just wish there would be more fair and friendly leaders. Ricky was so indecisive that I usually had to decide for him. I didn’t want to decide, but he wasn’t capable of it. I think that’s the case with most of the meek.
As I’ve said many times, the vast majority of people are followers. They go for what’s popular, what they think will make them look good in their eyes of their friends, neighbors, and co-workers. The COVID psyop showed how talented they are at following orders. But the meek are in a different category. They are followers in all respects of life. They usually don’t have strong opinions, and if they do, they don’t voice them. I would bet that a smaller percentage of the meek vote than any other group. So maybe they’re wiser than the rest of us. I wouldn’t try to wake up a typical meek person. As should be obvious by what happened to him, my best efforts at this with my brother never worked.
By any standard, having this kind of meek personality places one at a distinct disadvantage in life. Don’t the meek meet the “Woke” definition of “marginalized?” Or “at risk?” Doesn’t everyone marginalize the meek? Aren’t they at risk of being bullied, treated unfairly, and taken advantage of every day? Few people speak out for the underdog in this world. Or the underdog is entirely misrepresented; they become Blacks, who have had countless laws passed to exclusively benefit them and protect them from discrimination, or transgenders, whose mad delusions we are increasingly legally bound to accept. Blacks, transgenders, illegal immigrants, in and off themselves are not underdogs. They are figuratively deified by those in power. The meek, including some Blacks, transgenders, and immigrants, are abused or ignored.
My mother also used to love saying, “variety is the spice of life.” True diversity is a great thing. Diversity of thought. Diversity of personality. The meek bring variety and diversity wherever they go. But their differences aren’t celebrated. Again, the best they can hope for is to be forgotten. I once tried to befriend a janitor at work. He was so mistreated that they purposefully forgot to notify him of a free ice cream social for all employees. Not to virtue signal, but I tracked him down and gave him the ice cream he was entitled to. He seemed appreciative, and after that, he would nod a very soft greeting to me in the halls. Otherwise, he kept his head down at all times. You could tell this guy had been beaten down by life. I was probably his best friend.
This is why I could never be a conservative, although many people call me that. My bleeding heart is still the most prominent part of my makeup. I instinctively feel for those less fortunate, and there are more less fortunate Americans now than ever. The mentally, physically, and emotionally handicapped. Those forced into the barest of existences on the streets, with no roof over their head. And the meek. Fighting a battle that no one who isn’t meek can understand. Realizing that they will be dominated in every conversation, every business encounter, every engagement of any kind. Helplessly acceding to the whims of others.
Adopting the style of John F. Kennedy, let us strive to at least understand the meek better. To be more patient and understanding, as I wish I’d been with Ricky. Celebrate them for not yelling at or threatening or punching others. Congratulate them on being kind and polite. Honor them for not being corrupt, unreasonable, or unfair. Try to engage them in conversation. Defend them from the most excessive non-meek persons. Pat them on the back. Put in a good word for them. Even try to be their friend. All someone like Ricky really lacked was a woman to see all the good in him. Remind them that they are promised a great reward.
Source: donaldjeffries.substack.com. IMG: © N/A stjohndc.org.
AWIP: http://www.a-w-i-p.com/index.php/2023/09/06/blessed-are-the-bullied-and