The Twenty-Fifth Year

Day Twenty-Five: Jan. 25, 2011

I’ve mentioned before how much I love YouTube, I’ve been known to spend hours on the site, searching through videos – laughing, crying and clicking, I’m not sure how it happened but last night I stumbled upon some clips from the show “What Would You Do” that airs on ABC.

I’ve never seen the show, but I knew the premise. Actors are brought in to recreate a scenario that adds some element of danger or immorality to it. Hidden cameras are set up and the general public’s reaction – or lack thereof – is captured. I clicked through about half a dozen of these episodes – gay bullying, sexual harassment, fraud and even a dog thief.

Some people reacted and jumped in. Others let the dangerous situation go on without more than a strained neck as they passed by. Later, the host asked them why they didn’t step in and stop something that was clearly dangerous. Their reaction? “It’s just not my place.” “I’ve been a witness to things before and had to take time off work to appear in court.” “People just don’t want to get involved in other people’s business.”

One clip in particular caught my attention. A young girl (an actress, remember) was grabbed by a man acting like an angry father, scolding her with, “I can’t believe you just did that. Don’t ever do that to me again!” The girl screamed back, “Someone help me! He’s not my Dad!” over and over again. It took hours of repeating this scene for a passerby to stop in their tracks, turn around and address the situation. It brought tears to the mother’s eyes when she saw someone finally act. “I can’t believe no one’s helping,” she said as she watched with fear written across her face. “It’s really scary.”

Watching this brought back a memory. It’s not a good memory and that’s probably why I forgot about it, buried it even.

I grew up in a very small town where the closest mall was an hour’s drive away. On the day when my parents finally gave the OK for us to part ways on a trip there and meet back up in a few hours, it was most certainly a big deal. I certainly didn’t grow up sheltered, but I did have very strict parents who kept a close watch on me – as parents should do.

I couldn’t tell you where I was walking or what my pre-teen self was even looking for that day as I made my first solo round down the concrete hallways I’d come to know hand-in-hand with my parents over the years. All I can tell you is that I was elated. I finally had some freedom and it felt so good.

Then a stranger approached me – an unkempt woman broad like a linebacker. She came right up to me and started asking me for money. When I tried to politely decline and move on, she got angry. She started yelling in my face about money for a bus fare. She posted her body square to mine. When I moved right, she went left. “Where’s my money?!” she screamed. Embarrassed and scared, I sank my face into my chest and muttered, “I don’t have your money.” “Well how am I supposed to get the bus to get home? You’re supposed to give it to me!” she shouted. “Go get my money! C’mon!”

I knew not to talk to strangers. This wasn’t a case of being called over with some candy or enticed by the thought of a lost puppy. The approach left me no choice but to face it.

By this time, my face was hot. My heart was pounding. Even though my parents were under the same roof, I felt like I was a million miles away, alone and incapable of helping myself. I can remember seeing a crowd form around and wondering why no one was helping me. Warm, salty tears brimmed behind my eyelids.

Just as the woman grabbed my arm to yell again, a stranger approached; another woman, this time one who was clearly there in my defense.

“How dare you approach my daughter and start harassing her!” the stranger shouted to the woman who had been yelling at me.

I slowly crept away from the confrontation. I think I may have lingered on the sideline of the scene but after that I quickly ran away. The kind stranger was still reprimanding the woman who had been harassing me. I never got to thank her.

I’ll never know if I was the only victim of the violent lash out. I’ll never know if the kind woman who interceded really had a daughter who’d been harassed or if she was just coming to my defense.

I’ll never know if the angry woman had intent to harm me. Quite frankly, it makes me sick to even wonder.

And yet, these kinds of things happen every day in broad daylight. Every situation on the show took place in a highly public area when the sun was still out.

What I do know is that I’ll never pass by a situation like that or one where there’s any danger present and keep walking. I will always stop and either intervene or get someone who can. I never want to even imagine my child, parent, brother, family member or friend being taken advantage of or hurt while others look on. I wouldn’t wish that upon even the most evil person.

I urge you – if you see something you know isn’t right, step in. Take action. Do something. Be that kind stranger the woman in the mall was to me. Life’s too short to let things go unnoticed.

Have you ever been in a situation like this? What did you do – or as the show implies, what would you do?