ScreamFree Articles

A world-mover passed away last week. A world-mover who refused to move.

Like most of us, Rosa Parks did not see herself as a revolutionary. Yes, she was involved in the local chapter of the N.A.A.C.P. in 1955, and thus she was involved in the civil rights movement. But she was primarily a wife and a seamstress, living in the segregated society of 1950s Montgomery, Alabama. And one day she decided to do something different.

Making the changes we want in our lives, in our relationships, always begins by simply doing something different. This reflects an awareness that all behavior comes couched in a pattern. That’s why you can predict what your son is going to do at bedtime. Or what your daughter is going to say when you tell her what to do. These are patterns, and just as much as you can pinpoint their parts in the pattern, they can pinpoint yours.

The only way to change the pattern is to learn to pinpoint your own part in it. And then do something different. That’s what Rosa Parks did.

In December of 1955, this humble seamstress left her job and went to the bus stop. It was time to go home, and she was tired. When the bus stopped to pick her up, she did as she always had, entering the front door, paying the bus fare, then going back out and reentering through the back door, the “colored” entrance. She then proceeded to take a seat on the fifth row of the bus, which was the first row of the “colored” section. Then the bus left.

And it started to fill up. Before nearing Mrs. Parks’ final destination, the bus was completely full. That meant her fifth row was filled, two African-Americans on the right side, and two across the aisle on the left. Then, at the next stop, a white man entered through the front door. There were no seats available on the first four rows (they were all taken up by white people), so the man, as was customary, went to sit on the fifth row.

Now the segregation law stated that black people were forbidden to: a) sit in the white section; b) share a seat in the black section with a white person, and c) sit across the aisle from a white person. This meant that when the white man moved to sit on the full fifth row, all four black people, by law, had to get up and stand in the back of the bus.

Well, three of them did. One, calmly, did not.

One of the thrills of my job is getting to hear about ordinary people making extraordinary decisions. I heard a bank teller yesterday, reporting about an incident with a repeatedly angry drive-up customer. After another heated exchange, and a windblown mishandling of papers, the angry customer sternly corrected the teller. He punctuated his remarks by calling the teller a “dimwit” as he sped away.

While most of us might take this personally, think about it continually, or even let it control us altogether, this teller did something different. He decided to rise above the fray of the incident and act not out of his anxious reactivity, but out of his calm integrity. The next time the teller saw the angry customer, he went straight to him, saying “I want you to know I forgive you for calling me a name last time we spoke, and I hope things get better for you.”

While obviously taken aback by the comment, it was the customer’s anger that really received the blow. His response was a surprisingly relaxed, “Thank you,” as if he were genuinely refreshed by this radically different response. After a pause, the angry customer then congratulated the teller on how he handled the situation. The teller reported that now, every time he comes through, the guy gives him a smile and a thumbs-up signal through the drive-up window.

Now, I know that sounds somewhat fantastical, like it couldn’t be real. If you were to confront someone like that, then you’d never get that type or response, right? Or maybe you’re like me, thinking that if I knew I would get that response, then confrontation would be a lot easier. That’s what’s behind our fascination with relationship techniques—give me something to do that will guarantee a different response from my kids! From my spouse! From my colleague!

The most important part, however, and the link between this teller and Rosa Parks, is that neither one of them had any idea what would happen next. They just knew what they had to do. Something different. Every revolution, no matter how small or large, always begins with one sentence. Every significant change to a system, whether it be a family, office, government, or society, always begins with the same communicated message:

I don’t know what you’re going to do, but this is what I’m going to do.

Revolutions don’t start with loud, bold proclamations. Life-altering changes do not begin with gangs of people all acting as one. They begin with quiet statements, quiet actions of singular fortitude. They begin with a singular individual with a resounding resolve to change herself, whatever the outcome.

Rosa Parks did not intend to be a hero. She just did not want to give up her seat. And she absolutely would not budge. Mrs. Parks would later say that she felt “determination fall over her like a blanket.” She made no loud protests, she issued no bold demands. She didn’t even make a face or frown. She did not ask anyone else to change for her sake, she simply refused to move.

And when the bus driver then informed her that he would have her arrested, here was her response: “Then you may go ahead and do so.”

And the rest is glorious history. Her trial and conviction led a 26-year-old minister initialed MLK to organize a 381-day bus boycott, nearly crippling the local transportation industry, yet clearly creating a national civil rights movement. A true revolution.

In my book, ScreamFree Parenting, I make a promise that you can, indeed, start a revolution in your home. I hesitate sometimes to use that language because I would never want to cheapen the memory and inspiration of true revolutionaries like Rosa Parks.

But what we’re talking about for all of us is bringing to an end the destructive patterns that fill families for generations and generations. What we’re talking about here is creating patterns of influence and intimacy that can transcend the reactionary dialogues and messages that fill our airwaves (and brainwaves).

What we’re talking about is learning to create the relationships we’ve always craved, by simply learning to focus on ourselves.

And do something different.