In the
aftermath of the tragedy of the mass shooting in Arizona, I attended a memorial
service for a very kind man who died at the age of 82. Dementia and disease in
his last years could not eradicate his smile, the twinkle in his eye, or a
loving word.

During the
Quaker service (which also honored his Jewish roots) one of his relatives rose
to speak of how her brother-in-law was a mensch—Yiddish for human being, but
meaning fully human in the sense of having great compassion and integrity.

Indeed, Norm
was a mensch, who believed in the power of love and community. His family
requested, in lieu of flowers, that people remember Norm with acts of kindness
towards family, friends, neighbors, strangers. That is, to share kindness in
community.

Synchronistically,
President Obama has asked the same of us as a nation. When the President spoke
last week, he noted our own sense of community as a nation: how the people that
died in Arizona are part of our family.

However,
part of our family are also those for whom we have a hard time accepting. That
is, the gunman (Jared Lee Loughner) is also part of the community. And as
community (I know this goes against the grain of rugged individualists) we do
need to ask ourselves what in our nation’s “family system” is awry? Apparently,
there were major mental health issues that were not addressed.

Most people
with severe mental illness are not violent. However, there remains a stigma
regarding mental illness. So, for one, we as a nation-community-family need to
work on removing the stigma and providing the necessary care. (Note that many
of our homeless population suffer from mental illness, some are veterans with
post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Partly, they are homeless because our
community support—aka, “funding tax dollars”—shrunk.)

The
nation-community-family also needs to care about gun control. I find it
peculiar that I, as a psychologist, have performed lethal weapons assessments
for people who have jobs requiring them to carry guns. Yet, there is no such
psychological assessment necessary for anyone else to purchase a gun (at least
in this state).

That
nation-community-family might also consider how we speak to one another in
general. I am confounded that we all say we want our children not to be bullied
or to be a bully; we all say we want our children not to scream and yell and
call each other names. So why do we think it is okay for adults to do less?
When do we begin to model right behavior for our children?

(Of course,
we all have moments of reactivity when we blurt out something we wished we hadn’t
said.)

Why should
discourse in the public arena be any more a shout fest, and worse, an
incitement to violence, than the family dinner table or third-grade classroom?

A Buddhist
teacher once said that before you speak, ask yourself four questions: Is what
you are about to say kind? Is it necessary? Is it true? And is this the right
time to say it? We need to have honest and open dialogue; we need to have free
speech. But free speech does not mean a free-for-all.

And words do
matter. Our environment is an influence on us. Neuroscience now gives us
evidence of that. Words inspire us for good or ill, subliminally, or otherwise.
Good grief, we’ve been brainwashed to buy everything from cigarettes to soaps
for years. All with sound bites (and pictures).

Words can
move people to march courageously and peacefully with Martin Luther King, or
words can incite people to riot. Nine-year-old Christina Green, the day she was
killed, probably hoped to be inspired by Congresswoman Gifford’s words to do
good in the world.

We need to
comprehend how immensely interconnected we are, so that we can see that we all
share in the responsibility for what our nation-community-family values.
President Obama said, “How we treat one another is entirely up to us.” We have
a choice to pass on the values of kindness and honesty or we can incite hate.
(Hmm, choice?)

At the
memorial service I attended, a woman wanted to share her own story of how she
had been depressed at early stage of her life. One day as she was walking
alone, forlorn and dismayed, she noticed a person acknowledging her with a warm
smile. That smile, that connection was the beginning of her own transformation
out of sadness.

Perhaps the
person who smiled chose to be kind and to make connection that day—chose to be
a mensch. To be fully human is to be kind. Being kind is our true nature. No,
it won’t eradicate evil but it might be the antidote to its sting. We have a
choice.

* Kayta Curzie Gajdos holds a doctorate in
counseling psychology and is in private practice in Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania.
She welcomes comments at MindMatters@DrGajdos.com
or (610)388-2888. Past columns are posted to www.drgajdos.com.