Number 1 of 52 Lifelong Communication Lessons: Don't Lie When You Should Cry
January 05, 2015 |
| The Georgia Straight, front page, volume 1/issue 1, May 5 -18, 1967 (Pierre Coupey) |
The year was 1967.
Greenpeace was getting its start in a basement suite in Dunbar. The Georgia Straight newspaper launched for 10 cents a copy and an anti-Vietnam war protest was held in Vancouver.
I was thirteen and feeling rebellious. I had attended my first rock festival and was excited about this hippie era. I took great delight in snubbing authority and convention. Part of my new persona included smoking cigarettes and wearing plenty of black eye make up inspired by Cher.
Lunch hours were spent hanging out in alleyways smoking with my friends and talking about our cool new world. The principal and vice-principal drove around looking for teens like us. They wanted to catch us in the act. Sure enough, we got busted. My two friends tossed their smokes but I, thinking I was ever so smart, just flicked the burning ash off the end and stuffed the rest of the fag in my pocket.
As we were being quizzed as to our reason for being in the alley, my coat started to smolder. Any explanations we put forward quickly disappeared and we were all told to go directly to the principal's office. The burn hole in my pocket became a constant reminder of this day.
As we sat in a row awaiting our fate, my little friend Carrie-lee said, "Cry and they will let you off." Cry? Moi? Not a hope, I was going to fight this injustice and state it was none of their business what I did off school property. Carrie-lee promptly started to ball. It actually made me giggle to see her turn on the waterworks so quickly. Not good to be seen laughing at this point.
Carrie-lee went in first and came out giving me a wink via her tear soaked eye. Our other friend went in looking a little weepy and came out with the same look of reprieve. All good, I thought. This won't be so bad. I will take the lecture and be out in time for a quick laugh with my pals.
The principal looked very stern and blustery but I was still not worried. Then he said because I lied and had such a bad attitude, I was getting the strap. Yikes, what the heck happened here? Next thing you know, I was holding out my hand getting royally smacked. It hurt like hell. I think I was in shock. I had never been hit like that before. I did not even get a minute to utter my protest.
It did cause me to shed a few tears but still defiant, I refused the opportunity to wash my face after the fact. I just got out of there as quickly as possible with a snarl on my face and pounding red hands. Unfortunately, that incident marked me forever in their eyes and my visits to that principal's office became frequent.
While getting the strap at our east end school was something of a status symbol, I certainly did not want to repeat that experience.
I thought about Carrie-lee a lot after that. Why did I not give in a bit? I was in the wrong and could have done a quick mea culpa and avoided that painful lesson. I have met many Carrie-lees in my life. They adeptly know how to play the game.
Learning to work with or around people in charge took me a few more years but I did avoid getting the strap again. I learned that lying did not pay off. Had I just fessed up and catered a bit to the hierarchy of the system, my time at that school would have been much more pleasant.
We moved later that year and I got transferred to a new school. Whew. Reprieve, I could stay under the radar. That was until the following year when the vice-principal from the first school became the principal at my new school.
Communication lesson number two, your reputation stays with you, even when you move.
Fast forward to 2015. We continually see people start out lying when they are caught doing something wrong or inappropriate - think Lance Armstrong, Martha Stewart or Anthony Weiner. Eventually people get caught and it is almost impossible to shake off the bad rep. I was lucky to learn my lesson at a young age.
Next week we will go back to 1973.
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