Humility and Arrogance

But all you do

is substitute your own rules

for society's.

And it's a nice simple rule:

tell the blunt, honest truth

in the starkest, darkest way.

And what will be, will be.

What will be, should be.

And everyone else is a coward.

But you're wrong.

It's not cowardly

to not call someone an idiot.

People aren't tactful

or polite just because

it's nice.

They do it

because they got an ounce

of humility.

Because they know

that they will make mistakes,

and they know that

their actions

have consequences,

and they know that those

consequences are their fault.

Why do you want so bad

not to be human, House?"

—"No Reason" House M.D., Season 2, episode 24

Working with the public gives a person one of two things (if not both): an immense sense of humility, and a deep hate towards the general public.

If humility is a metal crafted into our beings after years of working it, the hammer is every belligerent douche that condescends others merely because they are a customer. We've all seen it, that one guy or woman yelling at a poor salesman or cashier who more often than sometimes has no idea where any of the yelling is coming from.

We've seen the poor worker lower their voice, apologize because this guy's jelly donut did not taste half as good as the donut his late grandmother used to make for him at her jelly farm. We've seen the understanding nod, the apologies, the understanding. We never know, right? That person might have had a bad day. He or she might have just gone to that specific store to forget about their every day issues and ended up letting everything out on that one specific worker for no other reason than a lack of self-understanding and self-control.

So this person gets their free coupon; their discount; their money back; their moment of general triumph where they belittled another and received a prize in return. We've all seen that side, but not everyone has seen the moments of turmoil after it. The worker's deteriorating mental health. The loss of faith towards humanity because of the actions of a clown. Some of us see the question in their eyes: is this worth it?

Generally speaking, the person stays and they become better at smiling in understanding during these moments. They lose the fear and they become a little more stern in their responses without turning bitter. We admire the person who gets yelled at over incredibly stupid reasons, and remains apologetic and calm. What an incredible ability, to be shat on and to remain serene.

The arrogance of an asshole begets the humility of another.

There are very much needed moments of venting. There are back room insults to that one guy, and that one girl. We have those moments of stories being shared. "Last week I had something like that happen to me" and such. A sense of comunal hate is created and a sense of personal humility is crafted into a being.

A new team member walks into our buildings every now and then and we see the struggle now from wiser eyes. We see the disorienting eyes in the person getting yelled at. We hear their stammering amidst it all. We hear their eventual venting. We understand their discomfort and their confusion. We and seek to guide them to understand the guest, to understand there may have been an underlying reason. Maybe assholes are just assholes.

At the end of it all, we all seek to guide them into a state of calm within a world of discomfort. Leaders are grown within this need to lead others onto a hill of humility. And within this leadership an arrogance is born. A leader thinks himself worthy to lead another to a hill maybe they themselves have not reached yet. We've gotten so used to being shat on, we believe we know what the top of the hill looks like. That one spot of tranquility where not a single thing in this earth could muddle our waters. We are calm within all turmoil, or at least most would like to believe we are. There are no guarantees. And yet we grow into beings who can guarantee you what the best response is in every scenario. Yet we grow discomforted at some comments still. We ask our team to act like us, and be like us, and we ourselves cannot act as such. We speak of ideals, of that top of the hill we claim to have conquered, and we are as far down that mountain as everyone else is. We find ourselves being a little rude to a cashier. We find ourselves raising our voices at people. We feel our patience growing thinner. And many years later, here and there, we hear a tiny voice that's asking: Is this worth it? The arrogance of an asshole begets the humility of another. Ideally, said another does not turn into an asshole.