I love a really well‑written hypocritical character.
My favorite may be Mary from Jane Austen’s Persuasion. Mary raves endlessly about how much everyone should notice her and empathize with how terribly ill she feels, while completely ignoring her sick child.
And Eliza Bennet from Pride and Prejudice is also a favorite. Not because she’s a hypocrite (though she does turn out to be mistaken or biased at times), but because she laughs at the hypocrisy and silly follies of others. Like Eliza, “I dearly love a laugh” at people’s follies too.
And truly, given how many hypocrites we meet in society today, we ought to have at least one character like this in every novel.
I got a new job in a new state. I moved there and didn’t know a single soul. A colleague and I hit it off since we both loved nature, hiking, and environmental causes. She took pity on my lonely self and invited me to Thanksgiving with her family and friends. I was touched and accepted.
I showed up with my handmade stuffing and pumpkin pie, a Williams Sonoma recipe with heavy cream that was chef’s kiss delicious. But working full time meant I didn’t have time to make homemade whipped cream. So I bought some store‑bought options, including Cool Whip (my guilty pleasure!).
When I pulled the Cool Whip out of the bag, my colleague gasped in utter dismay, eyes wide.
She said, “Oh dear. Our friends will be very shocked indeed if you bring that! Very shocked!”
She actually started pacing, and wringing her hands.
I stared at her, stunned and confused. I asked, haltingly, “Shocked? About… Cool Whip?”
I mean, it wasn’t like I was whipping kittens.
“Oh yes,” she said. “They only eat organic.”
Now, that’s all well and good. I respect that some people dedicate their lives to clean living. Outside of Cool Whip and gummy bears, I am all for clean living.
Oh, and wine.
Long live clean living.
Oh, and chocolate.
You go, clean living!
And if you don’t like something… don’t eat it.
But the real concern was that they’d judge me just for bringing it, you know, because it might melt a hole through their countertop like the acidic blood of aliens.
I brushed off her warnings, thinking no one could possibly be that bad.
I was wrong.
I’m a left‑coast liberal, but these folks acted like I was extreme right. And compared to them, maybe I did seem like it. Which goes to show you can never judge yourself based on the views of others, because others’ views are always changing and you’d never know who you are and what you stand for.
The most “shocking” thing about the evening was that over dinner they all ranted about someone else (not present) whom they believed wasn’t inclusive or tolerant.
I blinked.
Really?
How interesting.
Like Eliza Bennet at dinner with Mr. Collins, I asked pointed questions, laughing internally at the hypocrisy and hoping they’d see the light.
They did not.
Nor did they appreciate my sense of humor.
I wasn’t invited back.
Later, at an EDUCAUSE conference, I attended a general session where keynote speaker Susan Grajek said:
“Instead of normalizing outrage, how about we normalize compassion.”
As I heard this, two things struck me.
First, our nation has quit listening to each other. Both sides of the political fence are pointing at each other, screaming “intolerance.” We’ve pointed outward so long we’ve forgotten how to look in the mirror.
Second, we live in a country that has normalized retribution, anger, and outrage instead of love and understanding. And I don’t believe those items reflect the nation I’m proud to be from.
I also don’t think judging someone for bringing Cool Whip reflects the nation I’m from either.
My naturally snarky, distrustful, and resentful heart doesn’t generally think well of human beings.
I know. I know. I need to work on compassion myself.
I’ve known it my entire life.
And I try. I really, really do. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I crash and burn; usually when someone is reeeaaally annoying.
So, I’m not immune to losing compassion either when someone does something I find “shocking”. Maybe I don’t judge Cool Whip, but I judge other things.
And it’s even harder to keep a compassionate, open heart when the daily news inspires fresh waves of anxiety, fear, and loathing.
Because of these tendencies, I’ve admired few people in my life.
But one I deeply admire is Nelson Mandela. In Long Walk to Freedom, he wrote:
“As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew that if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.”
His ability to turn away from hate and retribution and toward growth, peace, and a better world inspires awe. His approach to life has always encouraged my naturally resentful heart to be better than it was ever designed to be by nature.
I also feel confident he wouldn’t have minded my bringing Cool Whip to his home.
As a nation, we’ve shoved ourselves into a prison; with walls created from hate and outrage. It doesn’t serve us, regardless of which side of the fence we stand on.
It’s hard to be compassionate when we’re confronted by frightening things in the news. But Mandela’s words ring true for me: fear encapsulates me; outrage chains me; anger drags me down. We can’t move forward or solve anything if we’re locking ourselves in mental prison cells that keep us divided.
When I was 17 and already living on my own, I worked at a department store to support myself, struggling to pay rent and finish high school. My car battery kept dying, but I couldn’t afford a new one.
One late evening, my car died at a stoplight. It wouldn’t restart. Drivers honked, yelled, and flipped me off while driving around me. I cried from sheer stress. Remember, back then, we didn’t have cell phones to call for help.
Then a van stopped. A father and his son got out and asked if I needed help. They jump‑started my car, and the father handed me money for a new battery. I didn’t ask for it. He seemed to know it was needed. They didn’t know me. But they wanted to help this young, distressed teen anyway.
I’ve never forgotten them. Decades later, I still remember that simple compassion.
Wouldn’t you rather be remembered for something like that?
I know I would.
So go do something kind today for someone, anyone. Especially someone you don’t agree with. Especially someone you maybe don’t like.
That is true compassion and tolerance.
And that’s the nation I’m proud to be from.
And let them bring Cool Whip to your dinner, even if you’re quite shocked about it.
*Note: Images created on the AI image generator, Midjourney. It was actually a LOT of fun to input things like “Imagine Cool Whip melting the counter top’ and “Imagine whipping kittens in a bowl”. 🙂