Five Things That Aren’t Unkind (Part I)

Even Though They Sometimes Feel That Way

You are going to be so sick of hearing about this by the end of April. Let me take a sec to plug Spectrum, an anthology of queer, neurodiverse short horror fiction, edited by Aquino Loayza, Freydís Moon, and Lor Gisalson. This anthology contains 20 (if I counted correctly) short stories, including mine—“These Thirteen Simple Tricks Will End Your Sleep Hallucinations For Good.” You can preorder Spectrum at Third Estate Books or snag the Kindle edition from Amazon. Spectrum releases on April 2 which is the very next Shelf Life day after today, so get ready. It’s coming up so soon.

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At some point I will have to acknowledge that “five things” is too many for a single article, because I usually hit my word quota around item two. Hence, today’s Shelf Life is part one of two, and you’ll get the rest next Tuesday. Sorry to do this to you again. I just have too many words and not enough space for all of them.

I haven’t written a Shelf Life on this particular topic in quite some time. I’ve just been writing about other stuff. But this is a perennial Shelf Life topic and if you’re newer to Shelf Life you can catch some of the previous offerings here:

• Kindness Confidential

• Toward Kindness Equilibrium

• Weaponizing Kindness

And probably some more but those were the first three that came up in the search, and the best ones (in my own opinion). Today seemed like the right day to beat this dead horse some more. To bang the drum for kindness. The drum is made out of a dead horse. This is known as killing two birds with one stone.

As I have discussed before, and recap here, being nice and being kind are not the same thing. Being nice is all about wanting to avoid conflict and to be liked by telling others what they want to hear, or refraining from telling others what they might need to hear. Kindness is about supporting and uplifting the people around yourself—and yourself, for that matter—even if that support can cause momentary discomfort.

The brief version I like to use is that a nice person will not tell you when you have spinach in your teeth but a kind person will. The “nice” method lets you go on believing your appearance is kind and spares you the discomfort of knowing you have spinach in your teeth, but also denies you the opportunity to, you know, run to the restroom and remove the spinach from your teeth. Nice wants to avoid a confrontation of any kind and never wants to make waves. Kind acts in your best interest.

The best advice I ever got about constructively commenting on someone’s appearance when they may not know it’s out of order is this: If they can fix it in under 2 minutes, tell them. If they cannot, do not. 

If they can fix the problem, like if they have spinach in their teeth or their skirt is tucked into their pantyhose, it’s kind to let them know so they can go fix it. If they cannot fix it on the fly, like if their socks don’t match or their pantyhose have a run, it’s kind to discreetly ignore the issue because you would only be drawing attention to something they cannot fix. 

Personally I’d rather get home at the end of the day and be like “My socks were mismatched! Thank goodness no one noticed!” than have my sock situation pointed out so I can feel self conscious all day.

I feel like I should explain what pantyhose are for anyone who is under thirty. These were a feminine foundation garment, similar to tights but sheer, and there was an era where you were supposed to wear them anytime your legs weren’t otherwise covered, for modesty purposes. Fun fact: I was dress coded and sent home from work one time because I wore a dress without pantyhose underneath. That’s how old I am. I am mandatory pantyhose years old.

However, doing something that is ultimately kind may sometimes feel uncomfortable in the moment—like telling someone they have (or being told you have) spinach in their (or your) teeth. That immediate discomfort tricks people into believing kind acts are actually unkind—that they’re mean things to do or say. The feeling you’re being mean might make you reluctant to do or say these things and then . . . your sliding down the slippery slope into nice territory.

So I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but here are my top five things to say or do that may feel unkind but are, ultimately, kind to both yourself and the person to whom you are speaking.

Expressing a Boundary

Everybody has boundaries. Some people express them and some people don’t, but the people who don’t express boundaries still have boundaries. If you don’t believe me, follow them to the toilet next time they go and see what they say. Unless they’re a tiny child. Tiny children don’t have a lot of boundaries. Adults all have boundaries.

People can’t respect others’ boundaries unless they know what those boundaries are. Some people won’t respect those boundaries anyway, even if you express them, but if you don’t express them then people cannot respect them, except accidentally. You may think that a boundary is so obvious that it doesn’t need to be spoken aloud—for instance, “don’t join me in the bathroom”—but if someone is trampling a boundary you haven’t expressed to them, it’s fair to assume they don’t know there’s a boundary there.

True story: I was hanging out with a friend a few years back and she said to me,

You know what I miss? The unannounced neighbor drop-in. People don’t do that anymore, and that’s just too bad.

I think I looked at her like she had just ripped her rubber mask off, Scooby Doo–style, to reveal a cartoon archvillain underneath. Who wants people dropping in unannounced for a visit?! This person, apparently. She missed the days when a neighbor would just knock on your door and come in for a while and have a cup of coffee and—I don’t know, gossip about your other neighbors? I thought we discontinued this behavior in the 1970s because nobody liked it but that turned out to be a bad assumption. This friend liked it.

If I were her neighbor and she dropped in unannounced to hang out, I would have to express a boundary—“Hey don’t come over without texting first to see if I’m free, okay?”—because, as someone who enjoys this behavior, she might not intuit that others don’t want neighbors dropping in. I feel like any reasonable person would know not to drop in unannounced, but then I found the one person who thinks it’s a desirable and pleasant experience and who might not intuitively know not to do this.

Most people know not to follow you to the toilet (dogs and small children notwithstanding) without being expressly told. That one is probably safe to assume. Other boundaries ought to be expressed, either in advance or as soon as you realize someone is not treating your boundary with respect.

Some people experience the expression of a boundary as a rejection, and it may feel unkind to them. That doesn’t mean it is unkind to express a boundary. Robert Frost said “good fences make good neighbors” and from that we can extrapolate that good boundaries make good relationships.

If someone repeatedly tramples your boundaries, you will grow to resent that person and your relationship will suffer. This is true even if you never expressed those boundaries to them. If you do express your boundary and the person continues to disregard them, then you can do the kindest possible thing for yourself—which is to shed an unhealthy relationship (more on that in Tuesday’s Part II).

Delivering Constructive Criticism 

This is really important for writers, other creatives, and people who work with others to internalize. If someone gives constructive criticism to you, it can feel mean and uncomfortable in the moment—since, after all, they are telling you a way you can improve which implies you were imperfect or falling short in some way to begin with. However, giving someone constructive criticism is one of the kindest things you can do for anyone who is engaged in an activity at which they want to improve.

I had the very, very good fortune to go to a highly regarded fine arts magnet high school. This was an excellent opportunity for me to learn that I am not interested in becoming a visual artist before I went to a high-ticket fine arts college. At least the high school was free. This was also an excellent opportunity for me to learn the fine art of critique.

Every class, except perhaps art history, had a critique component. Periodically—like every few weeks—you’d come to class and the easels would be pushed to the corners of the room and the instructor would declare it critique day. Students would pull up stools into a group in front of the one easel that was left out and would take turns putting their work up on the easel in front of the group to be critiqued. Then the instructor would go through the students one by one and every single student had to offer up 

1. One thing that was done well, and

2. One thing that could be done better.

This was the second-most important thing I learned in art school. For one thing, you learned very fast not to take the critical feedback personally. Everybody has to say something critical. It’s not personal. 

Second, and this was crucial, I learned that even as probably the worst artist among my peers, my critical feedback was still wanted and valuable. There were students who were so good that their paintings and photographs could have been in a gallery. I’m not kidding. And we were like 17. But even though I could barely put together a stick figure I was still expected to give constructive criticism and it was taken graciously.

Anyway, everyone should participate in that kind of critique during their formative years. It’s probably the only thing I learned in high school that I still use.

Critical feedback is necessary for growth. It’s a necessary component of creative growth. You could practice your piano playing, or your painting, or your writing all day, every day, forever—and you would reach a limit of how far you can grow if the only ear or eye evaluating your work is your own.

If someone gives you their work for your opinion, it might be nice to say “oh this is amazing, it’s perfect with no changes, I have no notes!” But it’s not kind to do so. That response avoids the potential to make someone feel defensive about their work and thus avoids the possibility of a confrontation, but it also denies the artist an opportunity to grow and develop.

It’s never unkind to deliver constructive criticism as long as—this is the key—you are in one of two situations:

• The criticism has been invited, for instance by a writer offering you their work to read.

• You are in a position of authority or mentorship to the person.

You should not offer constructive criticism to people who have not asked for it or to people who do not look to your authority or mentorship for guidance. Unsolicited advice is criticism and unsolicited criticism is rarely kind.

For more on giving and receiving criticism:

• Accepting Criticism Like a Pro

• Delivering Criticism With Grace and Kindness

• Defensive Line

• The Scalpel and the Sledgehammer

Make sure you tune back in next Tuesday, April 2, Spectrum anthology launch day, to find out about the other three not-unkind acts that can feel kinda mean.

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