Please tell me you’ve watched this already. If not, do yourself a favor and watch it right now. It’s just short of an hour, and you’ll want to watch every minute of it. George W. Bush spoke recently to the staff of Facebook.
THIS is the man I voted for . . . twice. He’s sharp, humorous (less goofy than normal), and incredibly well spoken about all number of issues. I’m looking forward to reading his new book. But until then, I thoroughly enjoyed this extensive interview. Best part is, he was no doubt speaking to a majority of people who are adamantly opposed to his politics (and to him personally). Yet he had them in the palm of his hand.
Here’s a question for you. Which would you prefer? To be liked, or to be respected? Easy question? Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s walk through this.
To be liked . . .
You are popular, at least for a season. People smile and welcome you when you walk into a room. Life is a little easier. Expectations are a little lower. You are simply accepted. You receive Christmas cards whether you send them or not. You get invited to the cool kids’ parties. You’re good enough. You’re smart enough. And doggonnit, people like you! But you would give it all up for just a little respect.
To be respected . . .
People guard what they say around you. You rarely see the “real” side of people. You are held to a constantly higher and often unrealistic standard. You are from time to time misquoted, and your name is often used for the gain of those whom you do not necessarily endorse. You are targeted and maligned. You are worshiped and revered. Your are unnecessarily credited, wrongly accused. And through it all, all you really want is to be liked.
I challenge you to look at those around you, at home, at work, at church, on the news. To whom do you offer your allegiance? Who do you like? Who do you respect? We see evidence of the above so much, even on the news. Reagan is revered now as one of the greatest US Presidents of all time. But when he was in office, he suffered the same sneers and jeers as any modern-day political leader. Respect.
We see Brittany Spears leave rehab as she tries to pick up the pieces of a shattered psychological existence. Front page news for the girl we praised and lifted up as a pop icon just two years earlier. Then we flip the channel and shake our heads. That poor girl. What’s the weather tomorrow? Yep, Brittany. We liked her.
America is starving for respectful leaders. Our homes are starving for respectful fathers. Believers are starving for respectable examples. And I firmly believe that men in general are starving for respect. But we are too concerned with being liked.
Not long ago I met Sir William and Prince Charles. It was an honor for me as I rarely meet men of their station. Of course it is not for lack of opportunity. Both William and Charles spend most of their time just a few miles from where I call home. If I were to visit them, however, they would not invite me in. I would be given no tour of their guest wing. I would see no king-sized bed, no portraits of great ancestors, no walls upon which to hang them.
Neither William nor Charles have a home. They reside rather among the streets of Downtown Nashville. William is 52. He has just been released from the hospital where doctors recently removed his appendix and portions of his pancreas. He is no stranger to hospitals. His life on the streets came just after a fall from a three story building shattered his right heel. He was working then. He is not now. In fact, he hasn’t for three years. With no income and suffering from severe health problems, this man who grew up the son of a defense contract executive is now walking through the night just to stay warm.
Charles plays the saxophone, tenor and baritone. He is charismatic and well spoken. He is a diesel mechanic and an electrician. And he is also homeless.
As I talked with Charles and William, I found it hard to understand why they were on the streets. These seemed to be reasonably intelligent men. They had education. They had verbal skills. But just because I can’t understand a reality doesn’t make it less so. In that reality, there are most likely two histories that are full of issues I could never truly understand, circumstances I could never comprehend unless I lived them.
During dinner, Charles talked a great deal. William contributed from time to time in his quiet, gentle way. Together with my friend Jeff, we shared a few laughs and a great meal with these and other gentlemen. Then we left.
Both William and Charles knew they would likely never see us again, and so they thanked us for our hospitality and kindness.
Jeff and I didn’t speak about this to one another. But we could both tell what the other was thinking. How does it get this far gone? What about family? What about government programs? What about churches? What about . . . me?
There are some who would make homelessness a political issue. The liberal might cast a vote for federal government programs designed to jump-start these men back into economic and/or social readiness. The conservative might stress the importance of local involvement and individual awareness, offering up faith-based initiatives as a better alternative.
The liberal might offer that we should do everything we can to get these men off the streets or at least out of the cold. The conservative might agree, but remind the liberal that more of these men should help themselves.
But while the two are struggling to right the wrongs of society through policy, William continues to walk through the night to stay warm. Charles continues to migrate from state to state working to save enough money to settle down in a location of his choosing, all the while trying not to spend his hard-earned money of needless expenses like shelter.
There’s a quote that is sometimes attributed to Winston Churchill:
“If you’re not a liberal when you’re 25, you have no heart. If you’re not a conservative by the time you’re 35, you have no brain.”
I wonder when it comes to issues like homelessness where in that spectrum I fall. That’s when I remember the words of the volunteer who stayed with these men that night after my friend and I left for our homes. “Remember,” he said. “These guys don’t need you to fix their problems. Most of the time, they just want to be warm, fed, and . . .”
catch this . . .
“to carry on a conversation with someone who will listen.”
Later, after a lengthy conversation regarding our favorite authors, William confirmed these words. “It’s so nice,” he said, ” to carry on an intelligent conversation with someone who cares.”
That’s when I realized why I was there. It was not to gain insight into the problems of social policy. It was not to fix anything for William and Charles, to find them jobs, or to set right the wrongs they had suffered or even inflicted. Instead, I was there to be a friend on a night when there was no one else.
Sometimes, a problem is so big that we never get started trying to fix it. So that night, I decided to start by not trying to fix anything. Instead, I put social stigmas aside. I laid down my prejudices and had conversations with two men that the day before might have never crossed my mind. These were not homeless men, they were just men. They could have just as easily been royalty.
And so it is that Jeff and I spent our Monday evening having a wonderful dinner with two truly wonderful gentlemen. Good luck to you, Sir William and Prince Charles. I do hope to see you both again soon.
Here’s a question for you. Which would you prefer? To be liked, or to be respected? Easy question? Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s walk through this.
Not long ago I met Sir William and Prince Charles. It was an honor for me as I rarely meet men of their station. Of course it is not for lack of opportunity. Both William and Charles spend most of their time just a few miles from where I call home. If I were to visit them, however, they would not invite me in. I would be given no tour of their guest wing. I would see no king-sized bed, no portraits of great ancestors, no walls upon which to hang them.