A bizarre headline caught my attention yesterday. It might seem ubiquitous: another teacher arrested for having a sexual relationship with a minor. But it was bizarre in that the perpetrator was someone against whom I filed a sexual harassment complaint, one that went unheeded and virtually dismissed several years ago.
I strive not be an eye for eye, tooth for tooth person. Decades ago, I would have let bitterness and anger overwhelm me and I would have said, “Bien hecho.” Now I find myself praying for those who have hurt me most. I’ve even prayed for this man as he sits in jail awaiting his hearing. Today, I keep thinking of my Play Brother as I spent nearly an hour downloading and uploading pictures of him. I keep thinking of what he would do.

What would Brett do? He’d read the paper, toss it down with dramatic flair, look at us and declare, in no uncertain terms, “What a friggin’ idiot.” I might retell the story of this man harassing and stalking me. Brett would shake his head, cock an eyebrow at me, and say, “Don’t waste any more time thinking about it. There’s no need to be around someone like that.” No talk of revenge or justice. Just a shrug and a turning back to the matter at hand, the present moment. Brett knew how to live.

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