What Would You Have Done? — and some replies

Dec. 23, 2002, 4:45 p.m. I'm getting on the Metro. I feel pretty good. I make my way past a group of kids and sit down next to a woman reading. I'm too tired to take out a book.

The aforementioned group of youths at the door become the primary focus of my attention. There are six or seven of them -- one girl. I'd say they range from 10 to 13 years old. No school today, I think to myself. Two of the boys methodically play games on their cell phones -- all concentration. The language the others are using with one another is pretty coarse and foul. As the train grows more full at each stop, they stay sprawled as if the car were empty. New passengers step over their legs, which are extended into the aisle.

At this point, I feel compelled to note that I'm relatively young enough not to be put off by a generic gangster affect. Further, having taught middle and high school students, I am aware of the range of behaviors one can reasonably expect from kids at different ages. That said, these kids -- the ones talking, at any rate -- are skirting the edges of that range, and I'm not the only one noticing. No one is issuing those warm smiles that adults so readily cast onto children. A middle-aged woman, sitting just behind the group, stands up and puts distance between herself and them. Let me reiterate that not one of these kids appears to be older than 13.

The boy in front of me has an odd posture: almost in a fetal position, slouched far, far down. New passengers walking by eye him curiously. Finally, I lean forward to see what he is doing. He backs up, standing in the aisle now, but hunched over -- and resumes drawing on the seat in pen. I don't remember what it was he was drawing or writing. No rainbows or butterflies, though. As I have obviously seen him, and he has obviously seen me see him, I must call him out -- he's vandalizing a full train during rush hour, after all.

"What are you doing?" I ask in a tone I think is curious but stern.

"I'm drawing, bitch. What does it look like I'm doing?"

I freeze, redden. He looks up now. He is staring at me hard. I hold the stare, but I have no idea how to respond. He must be -- what? -- 11.

"You can't do that," I say finally, and while we are not speaking loudly, everyone near us is taking note.

No one says anything.

"Listen, bitch, if you don't want me to rob your North Face [my jacket] you better shut the [expletive] up."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, if you wanna keep your North Face shut the [expletive] up."

This exchange goes on for one or two more rounds. I say nothing substantial. The 11-year-old continues to threaten me. I realize we are at my stop. The woman beside me, who has obviously witnessed the entire event, stands up and says, "Excuse me," as she would normally to make her way out of our seat and off the train. I pick up my things. I can feel all eyes on me as I leave.

I have no idea what happened when I exited the train and emerged onto the street. Maybe someone said something or did something firm about the child's language or his action and got results. Maybe the kid kept on drawing, a car full of adults paralyzed while a handful of adolescents learned the lesson that fear and violence are power, and that those who evoke it get what they want.

After replaying the incident a number of times in my mind, I'm not sure what I could have done or said to get the desired outcome, i.e., cessation of vandalism.

I know my approach wasn't successful. I am sure, too, that we have a problem. It is clearly a problem that some children have experienced this kind of threatening dialogue enough to replicate it confidently in public.

But it is perhaps a bigger problem that a group of grown-ups allowed uncertainty, perceived differences or maybe just apathy to excuse their responsibilities as adults in this society to mentor our youth.

What should we do? Well, we can reduce economic disparity, work to strengthen social networks and make equitable our systems of education. We might also try to take ownership of that which happens in our society by actively engaging in it, even when it means authentically interacting with strangers from time to time. It might be helpful, too, to openly discuss our mistakes and failings. So, as for the Metro ride, what would you have done?
 

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Replies: What some readers would have done ...

Since the writer asked ["What Would You Have Done?" Jan. 3], I will tell Metro rider Shannon Fitzsimmons what I would have done if I had been faced with an 11-year-old who was vandalizing public property and threatening violence on a Metro train.

First, I would stop blaming myself, the young thug's parents, the other passengers, the economy and weak "social networks" and begin blaming the perpetrator.

Maybe then I would find the means to "authentically interact" with this criminal, perhaps by alerting Metro authorities and having this vulgar, violent thug hauled off to face a judge who could adjudicate the young offender's "mistakes and failings," as Ms. Fitzsimmons puts it.

While this approach might not qualify under Ms. Fitzsimmons's definition of "mentor[ing] our youth," it just might make Metro a safer place for her and her fellow passengers.

CURTIS B. HANE
Bethesda

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Shannon Fitzsimmons pinpoints what is wrong with our society and our education system. Children can commit vandalism, use nasty language and threaten adults, and most adults will do nothing. What are the adults afraid of? Guns? Knives? Lawsuits?

Why do some children behave this way? Because they can. And because no one has taught them civil behavior or moral responsibility. I assume that the children Ms. Fitzsimmons encountered have at least one parent in their lives and that they have spent at least five or six years in the school system. Somewhere in that time they should have been socialized.

The parents obviously neglected to do this, and schools seem not to teach citizenship anymore. Big mistake! Unless we teach responsibility, we are doomed as a civilization.

LYNNE HARTMAN
Williamsburg

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While I don't recommend that people become confrontational in every such situation, I would suggest that, if there is a next time, Shannon Fitzsimmons consider using the intercom that allows passengers to communicate with the train's driver. Without drawing attention a rider can push the button and tell the driver that someone is being disruptive. Tell the driver the car number (usually it's posted on the door next to the intercom) and what is happening. The driver can then contact police to meet the train at the next station.

I have used the intercom twice to contact the train driver, once to report that an assault was taking place and once to report that a passenger with a knife was threatening people. In both cases, the offending people were removed by police with no incident.

RICK SCULLY
Kensington

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Clearly the kids Shannon Fitzsimmons encountered were suffering from a lack of parenting. And while their behavior was rude and unbecoming, it crossed the line when the one boy accosted and threatened Ms. Fitzsimmons. Someone on the train should have risen to her defense. That no one did is inexcusable.

As a society we need to take collective responsibility for our behavior and especially for the behavior of our children. If we fall back on excuses such as "It's not my problem" or "It's none of my business," we risk a further deterioration of civility.

Based on my experience in similar circumstances, I feel that if one other person had backed up Ms. Fitzsimmons, the kid would have backed down. Instead, he got away with it, and that encourages him to do it again.

Maybe Ms. Fitzsimmons could have defused the situation with humor or taken a different tack that would have elicited a different reaction from the youth. Doubtful, but perhaps. But that is Monday-morning quarterbacking. She did the right thing; unfortunately, her fellow passengers fell down on the job.

JAMES BRACHE
Hyattsville

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Last January, the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA), which operates the nation's second largest public transportation system, launched "Don't Be Jack," an ad campaign to remind customers of the consequences of their behavior. The ads show a blue stick figure who does everything from vandalize CTA property to eat, drink and smoke on the property.

The first ad, "See Jack Spray. See Jack Pay," showed "Jack" spray-painting CTA property, then behind bars. The "moral" on the ad explained that graffiti costs taxpayers $4 million a year and encouraged other passengers to call 911 to report vandalism in progress.

Nobody wants to ride the train or bus with a "Jack," but let's be honest: Transit authorities must make it known that such behavior will not be tolerated, and passengers must make it known that they too will not stand for it.

MICHAEL MISETIC
Chicago

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A25010-2003Jan7.html

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