Sometimes is it our duty to challenge authority

We need tougher kids. By that I mean we need to help kids feel confident enough to voice their fears or feelings when they inherently recognize something is amiss. We don’t always give them credit for that of course, but kids do have a built in barometer for the “ick” factor. While they might not understand why a certain action is wrong, they always seem to know when it doesn’t feel right.

But because children, like adults, can lie, adults sometimes dismiss their wild accusations as fantasy. Predators count on that.

An innocent case in point. Sierra Shoemaker, 12, was competing in her school’s spelling bee in Fresno California. She was asked to spell “Braille.”

B-R-A-I-Double L-E. She nailed it. But her joy was momentary. Immediately replaced by shock and disappointment when the judge in the contest declared she had actually misspelled the word. 

“Braille” has only one “L,” he said. Shame on him. After the contest, when Sierra was given a trophy for second place rather than the first place prize she deserved, she was interviewed on FOX television. She knew the judge had made a mistake and said. “I didn’t want to say anything because, you know, if the wordmaster tells you you have a word wrong, you don’t really argue with him.” 

But why not? That’s one of the lessons here — anybody can be wrong; priests, policeman, parents or the guy next door. 

Sierra now has proof positive that the eye can be deceived and that her instincts are there to help guide and protect her.

It’s hard to question authority; inconvenient, too. I remember when I went to a male doctor for my first gynaecology exam. I had no previous experience to weigh the doctor’s behaviour by but it did seem awfully silly, sneaky and inappropriate that his hand remained on my breast long after the exam was over. “Where the hell was the nurse?" I remembered thinking later. I should have asked. 

Uncomfortable

I left that confusing episode behind until four years later when I learned that a younger relative of mine had also visited the very same doctor. A surge of protectiveness kicked in and cautiously I inquired about her experience with him. Naturally, it sounded as similarly uncomfortable as mine. I made her promise to never to go back. 

But I should have done more. I should have reported him. You would today. Look at the thousands of brave children all over the world who have endured much worse and found the courage to tell. I was afraid I was making a mistake. Perhaps I was just too unsophisticated to accept how adult men and women behaved with one another, even in a professional environment.

“He’s such a great guy,” was all I had ever heard whenever I asked others about him.

It’s unpopular to criticise and challenge. But sometimes it is absolutely necessary.