There’s an episode of the “Honeymooners,” called “The
Bensonhurst Bomber,” in which Ralph attempts to intimidate a poolroom bully,
Harvey, by pretending to knock out an even larger guy, a friend of Norton’s,
who would be in on the plan. To
ensure that Ralph recognizes the friend, Norton suggests that he walk up to
Ralph and say, “Get a load of fatso.”
In the event, of course, another very large guy gives Ralph the trigger
line and Ralph actually decks him for real. Ralph wonders how the stranger knew to call him
“Fatso,” and Norton observes, “Well, if the shoe fits…”
I don’t think I’ve heard anyone use the term “Fatso” in
quite a long time. But when I was
growing up in Brooklyn, I heard it a lot, and often directed at me, because I
was, in fact, a chubby little kid.
While I didn’t particularly like it, I have to say I never felt the
impulse to deck someone who used that term. I really didn’t take offense
because I knew instinctively that that was precisely what the person using the
term wanted me to do.
There is a tremendous amount of emphasis today on how to
avoid offending others, even unintentionally. That’s not a bad thing. The workplace focus on diversity,
inclusion and cultural sensitivity has been tremendously positive, and the training I
experienced during my career was quite often eye-opening. But I wonder if some
attention also should be devoted to the other side, i.e., teaching people to withhold from others the power to offend them. That is a power that so many surrender very
easily today. In fact, it sometimes seems to me that a lot of people are
walking around looking for a reason to be offended and angry. (Who said, “It’s hard to stop and smell
the flowers when you have chip on your shoulder” Oh, wait. I think I did.)
I believe we’ve come to this perpetually grumpy state in
part because we are now a media-addicted society and the much of the media’s
focus is on comments, activities and events that are, let’s face it, intended
to be offensive. But I believe that the power to offend us depends entirely on
our willingness to allow ourselves to be offended. To withhold that power, we
need only remember that “offensive” comments, activities and events reflect
only on the individuals responsible for them and not on us or on anyone
else. So, if someone calls someone
“Fatso” or uses any other pejorative term, whether it starts with F, C, N or
any other letter of the alphabet, intentionally or not, the target of that
remark has the option of stopping to consider what harm was actually done and
perhaps just letting it slide. I
don’t say it’s easy all the time, but with practice it is entirely possible to
live an offense-free life.
The ability to withhold the power to offend was
extraordinarily important to me very often during my career when dealing with
what others might have considered an affront or insult. In fact, I think my ability to survive
successfully for 40 years in what was for me a very unnatural environment was
due in no small part to remembering another childhood adage: “Sticks and stone
might break my bones, but names can never hurt me.” You might be surprised how a distinctly positive response to
a slight can actually enhance your standing with those who really matter. And it’s amazing how stopping the quest
for offense can provide a new perspective on others, (even on @$$holes!)
Looking back, though, I do recall considering another option
as a kid. To avoid being called “Fatso,” there was a place I dreamed of going where
my weight would have been significantly less than what it was back in Brooklyn. “To the moon!”
