Just this morning, I found myself almost instantly bombarded by messages from a friend on Facebook. That may not seem far from the norms of the life of a guy in his early twenties, but I couldn't help but be thrown off by who seemed to have chosen to greet me. Within moments of sitting down at my computer, still shaking the sand from my eyes, I heard the notable chime of an incoming message from none other than my senior-year English professor. I know I'm of a different breed being friends with a teacher from just over four years ago, but that's because I come from a very close-knit high school. It was a Jesuit, all guys, school that really seemed to breed its own social norms. As such, I am Facebook friends, or close acquaintances, with a few members of its faculty and staff. This gentleman, around three times my age, just happens to be part of that group. His class remains, by far, the most memorable experience of my educational career, and I look back on it in the fondest of manner. I learned more about William Faulkner and his works, including The Sound and the Fury, than I believe I have learned about the compilation of the numerous other books I have read. It was an amazing class, an amazing topic, an amazing opportunity, and taught by a fantastic professor. To this day, I find myself returning to that book, losing myself in its pages. That, however, still does not explain what would lead him to message me, out of the blue and at such an early hour. So, I was, excited (like a reunion, of sorts, with a man I greatly admire), and I was on the edge of my seat for the topic of discussion, his reasons, if you will.
Well, that's where the positivity of this event shuts down. At first, his messages were informing me that he had, just last night, gotten mugged at gunpoint on the streets of London. I was not thrown off by his possible presence in the United Kingdom (he seems like quite a traveler), but I was confused by why I was chosen to receive this message. It felt like a cry for help, especially with him noting that he was in tears as he wrote (he was a big man, but I believed he was very open about his emotions, especially with his theater background). Why was he crying to me for help? It felt like a scam, but I couldn't say that. What if he had been, truly, in need of some assistance? What if he had already reached out to those close to him but had no success? What if I was his last hope for help? I couldn't help but think of how awful I would feel being that far down a list after already having suffered such a tragedy. So, I balanced my support and reassurance, telling him that I was very sorry to hear he had been attacked by a coward, wielding a gun to intimidate a kind stranger and take advantage of them. I also, almost without words, tried to make it clear that I was there to hear him out, no matter how awkward it might seem. Finally, it came. His request was definitely stereotypical of this type of situation. He was, apparently, having financial difficulties with settling his hotel bill after losing his wallet in the ordeal and needed some assistance. I thought that he may have been calling on me due to my father spending so many years in the international hotel trade, but I was not going to throw my money, what a college student might have, his way without some proof, something to keep me comfortable. So, as I would not shut out anyone in a community that gave me so much, I just said that, if there was any way he could prove his identity, I would do whatever was in my power to assist. Thankfully, he was able to interject at that point. He told me that his account had been hacked and that I should not act. Though I was relieved, I also felt like quite the fool. I suspected a possible scam from the start, but I didn't shut it down. Was I wrong? Should I feel guilty? Would I act differently in the future?
I don't feel I acted too far from respectably in this situation, but I couldn't take my focus away from how foul the character of some members of our society can be. It seems that we have to balance being kind and, to a degree, pious in our actions with having to accept there are others who want nothing but their own proliferation and prosperity. There remains a small section of our society that will take advantage of any sign of such weakness and exploit for personal gain. These are the types of people who rob innocent, elderly pedestrians at gunpoint. They're also the people sending out emails and electronic messages, requesting a touch of charity, hoping that someone might fall into their trap, bringing their plump wallet with them. That doesn't mean I'm going to start acting cruelly or irrationally towards others. I'm still going to remain as kind and generous as I can be. This just happened to be a sad reminder that, whatever our intended acts of kindness, we should still keep watch for those lurking in the shadows, maliciously preying on the kindness of others.
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