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<\/span><\/div><\/div><\/div>A true story about empathy: The costume.<\/h2>\n<\/div>A story about under\u00adstan\u00adding others and empa\u00adthy. As a child, I was about six years old and, for Carni\u00adval, I wanted more than anything in the world to be a pirate. A legen\u00addary pirate film had captu\u00adred my imagi\u00adna\u00adtion. I asso\u00adcia\u00adted pira\u00adtes with ever\u00ady\u00adthing I clai\u00admed for myself: free\u00addom, inde\u00adpen\u00addence, being respec\u00adted and a little feared. A sword and a pistol, a headscarf and an eye patch, and a pain\u00adted-on beard. Torn clothes.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>
<\/div><\/div><\/div>But my loving mother had some\u00adthing else in mind. Her youn\u00adgest child was to be dres\u00adsed as a \u201cclown\u201d for Carni\u00adval. Her sweet little clown. So she put in great effort, spen\u00adding hours making a clown costume. She got face paint and a wig.<\/p>\n
And so it happened that, because as a small boy I couldn\u2019t refuse my mother a wish, I went to the primary school Carni\u00adval cele\u00adbra\u00adtion dres\u00adsed as a clown. The result was that I sat crying on a bench in the assem\u00adbly hall. So much so that all my makeup ran. I didn\u2019t move. I waited until the cele\u00adbra\u00adtion was over, and then I went home.<\/p>\n
In the mean\u00adtime, my siblings had appar\u00adently told them. When I walked through the front door, my parents and my siblings gree\u00adted me. And all of them were holding pieces of a pirate costume. My mother almost tore the clown costume off me, and I was dres\u00adsed as a pirate.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>
With a sword, pistol, wide belt, torn clothes, a stri\u00adped shirt, a black headscarf, and an eye patch. And finally, my older sister pain\u00adted beard stub\u00adble onto my face.<\/p>\n
For three days, I roamed the land as a pirate and made the area unsafe. They were very happy days. To this day, this story is firmly burned into my memory. And I think it is a good place and time to tell it. So that it happens to as few child\u00adren as possible\u2014to turn a real pirate into a clown.<\/p>\n
Empa\u00adthy means under\u00adstan\u00adding the other person. If my mother had asked me, she could have preven\u00adted a child\u00adhood dream from being taken away. What makes this story parti\u00adcu\u00adlarly bitter is this: I didn\u2019t shake off the image of the class clown for a long time. So, just ask\u2014before you think you alre\u00adady know what might be better for someone else. Thank you.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>
A story about under\u00adstan\u00adding others and empa\u00adthy. As a child, I was about six years old and, for Carni\u00adval, I wanted more than anything in the world to be a pirate. A legen\u00addary pirate film had captu\u00adred my imagi\u00adna\u00adtion. I asso\u00adcia\u00adted pira\u00adtes with ever\u00ady\u00adthing I clai\u00admed for myself: free\u00addom, inde\u00adpen\u00addence, being respec\u00adted and a little feared. A sword and a pistol, a headscarf and an eye patch, and a pain\u00adted-on beard. Torn clothes.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>
But my loving mother had some\u00adthing else in mind. Her youn\u00adgest child was to be dres\u00adsed as a \u201cclown\u201d for Carni\u00adval. Her sweet little clown. So she put in great effort, spen\u00adding hours making a clown costume. She got face paint and a wig.<\/p>\n
And so it happened that, because as a small boy I couldn\u2019t refuse my mother a wish, I went to the primary school Carni\u00adval cele\u00adbra\u00adtion dres\u00adsed as a clown. The result was that I sat crying on a bench in the assem\u00adbly hall. So much so that all my makeup ran. I didn\u2019t move. I waited until the cele\u00adbra\u00adtion was over, and then I went home.<\/p>\n
In the mean\u00adtime, my siblings had appar\u00adently told them. When I walked through the front door, my parents and my siblings gree\u00adted me. And all of them were holding pieces of a pirate costume. My mother almost tore the clown costume off me, and I was dres\u00adsed as a pirate.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div>
With a sword, pistol, wide belt, torn clothes, a stri\u00adped shirt, a black headscarf, and an eye patch. And finally, my older sister pain\u00adted beard stub\u00adble onto my face.<\/p>\n
For three days, I roamed the land as a pirate and made the area unsafe. They were very happy days. To this day, this story is firmly burned into my memory. And I think it is a good place and time to tell it. So that it happens to as few child\u00adren as possible\u2014to turn a real pirate into a clown.<\/p>\n
Empa\u00adthy means under\u00adstan\u00adding the other person. If my mother had asked me, she could have preven\u00adted a child\u00adhood dream from being taken away. What makes this story parti\u00adcu\u00adlarly bitter is this: I didn\u2019t shake off the image of the class clown for a long time. So, just ask\u2014before you think you alre\u00adady know what might be better for someone else. Thank you.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div>