People will often say, “Be the change you want to see in the world”. And I think, YES, I want that. I want to be that person to change, and change others, and to be changed by others. But how?

Who teaches these idyllic lessons anyway. I mean, let’s be realistic. It’s easy to express our desire to “be the change we want to see,” but who has the wherewithal to figure this out? Especially in our continuous race against time. Am I complicating it? Let’s take a look.

My 13 year old son Christopher is in the 8th grade. He wrote an essay to get into a local private high school. His essay is about a kid in his class that is teased for being different. He stood up to his friends who participated in this teasing, making fun of the boy for liking things that are out of the norm from the other kids. Christopher witnessed this teasing for a little while until he finally said, “this isn’t right. Why are we teasing him? It’s not okay.”

This type of standing up for what he believes is bravery. He took a risk of being teased as well. His stood up anyway. He let his moral compass lead the way. He lead with his heart not his fear. The results for him, rewarding. His friends responded to his conviction for what is right. “Yah, why are we doing this?” they asked. To my sons surprise and relief they stopped teasing this boy. That’s a win. That’s a leader. Christopher is the change he wants to see in the world.

Let’s look at another example.

When I was in the 8th grade I was experimenting with bullying because I was bullied. In the 7th grade a group of older girls sought me out to belittle me for whatever reason. It was terribly lonely and scary. I truly thought the bullying was about me which isolated me from others. I thought I was inadequate because I couldn’t make it stop. I couldn’t change the way they came after me. I was terrorized. My strategy was to wait for them to be finished bullying me, move on to another victim or move on to the 9th grade. They moved on to the 9th grade.

When I was in 8th grade the feelings of inadequacy followed me. Although I was the oldest in the school I carried with me the feelings of what it was like to feel scared and helpless. Then it began to settle in that I was the oldest in the school. It was my time to make a younger kid pay.

Here’s the cycle.

One day I was entering my 8th grade Grammar class as 7th grader Angela was entering her English class. She was waiting in line to enter the classroom along with her classmates. She was smiling and enjoying light conversation with friends until I came along.

The 7th grade class and the 8th grade class were both lined up to enter the classrooms. I saw Angela being herself. She had never done anything to harm me. Nothing at all. Yet I walked up to her and pulled her hair in anger. I was angry alright but not at her. I was angry in general and in a moment I decided to take this anger out on her.

Angela’s head lurched downward toward the floor as I yanked at her hair. She didn’t see this coming. She had no ill will toward me yet she was the one I was going to punish for my unexplained feelings. Everyone in both lines saw this. No one said a word. Angela was clearly taken aback and obviously upset by my actions.

As the classes were invited to fill the classrooms I proceeded into my room and Angela went into her room along with her classmates. I had no idea what came over me. This was not who I was yet it was what I acted upon. I felt horrible and spoke with no one about my actions.

I felt tremendous shock and shame for what I had done. Everyday following that moment I couldn’t look at Angela because I knew what I had done was very wrong and tremendously hurtful. I knew first hand how hurtful physical bullying can be. I made no amends to Angela. Then I went into the 9th grade.

For my entire teenage and adult life I felt the weight of a thousand worlds on my shoulders over this event. I felt mortified over how this made Angela feel. I never forgot that moment.

Then I received a gift. A magical moment in time. 18 years later at a graduation party for Angela’s sisters daughter Moriah. Angela and I were in the same room together. I’m there and Angela is there. Angela makes friendly eye contact, says hello, and I feel awful. Weighted down by the way I treated her 18 years prior I still can’t accept what I did to her. And the glorious thing is, as an adult I don’t have to. I was presented with a moment to be the change I want to see in the world.

Angela and I struck up a small talk conversation about our kids as we stood in the kitchen. The discussion was light and friendly. It was as though Angela had forgotten the entire event. It appeared to be only I who labored over the regret of that exchange as we waited to enter our classrooms nearly 20 years prior. Could this be true? Could she have forgotten?

A short while into our conversation Angela was beckoned away by her sister. I knew in my heart now is the time. I reached for Angela’s arm, “before you go I have something I need to say to you,” I said. She paused and said, “Ok.”

“Do you remember when you were in the 7th grade and we were in line waiting to enter into our classrooms and I pulled your hair in front of everyone?” She replied, “yes.” I said, “I’m sure that was very embarrassing for you and also very confusing to you and I am so sorry I made you feel that way.” Angela’s eyes began to tear up. I proceeded to tell her how sorry I was and how I have lived with the regret of that moment for my entire life since the event. I told her how I truly believe that when we make mistakes throughout our lives we are always able to go back and make amends. I reassured her that incident had NOTHING to do with her and everything to do with me.

And that is what I did. In that moment I was the change I want to see in the world. Despite the awkwardness I knew in my heart I needed to reach out to her and say “I’m sorry I was mean to you. It wasn’t about you. It was about me.” Angela thanked me and gave me a hug. Out of all the things I have done in my life making amends to Angela is one I will cherish forever.

In 8th grade I wasn’t true to myself. I took on a persona that wasn’t one I was proud to own. I tried on the hat. It didn’t fit. It might have taken me nearly 20 years to say “I’m sorry” but when it comes to things like that amends has no expiration date.

In my day to day life I may not always be true to myself by being the change I want to see in the world. This, however, is the wherewithal I spoke about earlier and one I must remember. My son speaking up against his friends and my own life experiences teaches me what it means to be change, instill change, affect change. Stand up for what you know in your heart is right and change will follow.