Mickey Mouse, The Hunger Games, and Perception 

When I was growing up in Atlanta, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth, my sister and I would often play “Tend Like”.  “Tend like” was actually the phrase we used to give direction to ourselves and to each other during the game.   For example, I might have said “Tend like we are going to a fancy dance with our boyfriends.  I’ll tend like my boyfriend is David Cassidy”, to which Cindy might say in return “Then my boyfriend is Bobby Sherman”.   And so the game would proceed as we pretended that we were putting on make-up (we probably used mud and/or dirt) and getting dressed for an evening with our distinguished dates.  David and Bobby never showed up - we probably got bored with the game just after they stood us up so we would eventually quit.  It was unbelievably fun, although to the current iGeneration it probably sounds about as much fun as watching a black and white TV that you actually had to get up and walk across the room to change the channel.**  Tend Like was a terrific way for us to learn empathy and how to relate to people in various situations. 

**My side note is that my Mother was very convenience-minded and DID have remote control back in those days.  She had two of them.  Their names were Cindy and Laurie.  "Girls!", she'd yell to the back of the house.  "Come in here and put the TV on the Braves game". But I digress..... 

Today, I would like to play “tend like” with you.  Are you ready?

Imagine (tend like) you live in New York City.  You have a job you enjoy with people who treat you with respect and give you opportunities for growth and promotion.  The friends you have made join you often at concerts, Broadway productions, street vendors and all things NYC.  Your opinion is that you have the life that everyone else can only drool over, and you live in the most exciting city in the world.  So far, so good.

Your long-time college roommate, who is originally from and now lives in London, calls and suggests that she would like to bring her children for a visit the United States.  We’ll give her a completely random name – Laura Beth.  And randomly name the school you both attended – say, maybe Mercer University.  You’ve not seen Laura Beth in almost 15 years, and this news sends you to the moon!  You shriek like Gus and Sean in an episode of “Psyche”.  You ask her “When and where would you like to visit?”.  She replies that her kidlets have never been to Walt Disney World and are having a fit to see Mickey Mouse next Fall.

 In your mind the wheels are turning – how can you surprise her once she gets to Orlando?  You held each other’s hands through some pretty difficult times while and since you shared a room so long ago.  Your excitement quickly crescendos to mind-boggling  heights, and all you can think about is the moment you will have that sweet surprise reunion with one who has contributed so much to your life.

You immediately start making your post-phone call list:

·         Contact Your Favorite Travel Agent (you know who that is, right?) and ask her to book your WDW package and possibly Laura Beth’s package as well.

·         Purchase new warm weather gear and comfortable shoes.

·         Find someone to take care of your dogs for the week you are gone.

·         Stop the mail, the paper, the milk.

·         Call your neighbor and ask her to water your plants.

Your mental exercise continues as the list grows. How fabulous it will be to see your cherished friend again!!!

Then, you are stunned into speechlessness when you hear the following coming from the telephone: 

“It makes me nervous, though, to think about bringing my kids to a country plagued with such savagery.” 

“Savagery?”, you think to yourself.  “ Really?  You mean the country where I live???”?

And this information comes from what source???  Finding your voice, you ask her just that.  Why ”The Mirror” she says, London’s quasi-equivalent to USA Today.  She explains that she reads articles every single day about how New Yorkers are killing each other at an expeditious rate, and everybody who is anybody knows that the United States has a reputation for brutal carnage.  After all, she sees this kind of news on the television, too.  Surely with two such reliable sources, this must be Truth (with a capital T!).

You think to yourself that you are a New Yorker, you feel safe in your city.  Does that make you an idiot, does it mean you have been hiding your head in the sand?  In fact, you get a little offended by her assumption that you’ve naively chosen to subject yourself to a dangerous city every day of your life.

Laura Beth then wonders aloud if it is worth putting her little family into inescapable peril just to see an amiable rodent.  An intelligent, confident, educated woman is Laura Beth.  She is a thinker.  As for you - the idea that she has such fear of the United States just can't find a place to settle in your brain.  To be afraid of America, the land of the free, home of the (and because of the) brave?  

 “I’ll be traveling without my husband this time – it’s a little disconcerting to imagine myself flying solo with the kiddos and finding my way around America, a country so rife with indiscriminate violence; where every day, Joe Normal is simply walking home from work and gets shot in the head.  Or worse!”

Oh my goodness! Dumbfounded, you wonder what in the world you are going to say.

 Well, I’ll tell you.  Tomorrow.

 In the meantime, tell me what is going through your mind about now. Sincerely strive to put yourself in this New Yorker’s shoes. 

Your thoughts???