6: Social Justice

My earliest memory of anything that might be called social justice is as a first grade student. As in all classes, some students were unpopular. One boy in particular seemed always to be on the receiving end of cruel comments and physical humiliations. It made me feel bad, literally; it hurt to see this. I had no words to describe my feelings or an intellectual framework for working through what I was experiencing. My response was direct. I tried to be kind to the boy whenever I could, to play with him during recess, eat with him at lunch, et cetera. I don’t think I ever said anything about what I was doing to anyone. I just did it out of what I now recognize as sympathy for him. I don’t know what might have given rise to such sentiment in a five year old. I don’t remember getting adult guidance on the subject. It was simply there and it compelled me to act.