Opinion

Adam and Eve: The blame game begins

Friday, February 19, 2010

If you're ever looking for a party idea, how about an evening of "The Blame Game"? You know how it works. Someone accuses you of doing something and then you come up with as many excuses as possible to prove you're not responsible. Party favors go to the one with the best answers.

Blaming comes easy to most of us, probably because it's genetic, handed down from our great, great (whatever) grandparents, Adam and Eve. The story line is simple: Eve eats the fruit, convinces her husband to do the same (It didn't take much, trust me), and then the shamed couple plays hide-and-go-seek with their Creator. Not good odds. God finds their secret hideaway and asks what they are doing.

Like He doesn't know.

Adam's response is priceless: "The woman whom you gave me..." Way to go, Adam! When in doubt, blame God, or your spouse, or BOTH! The Misses isn't much better: "The serpent deceived me and..."

Wow! How embarrassing! Little did they know that these words would be handed down, generation after generation, causing them to be remembered as the couple that failed to own up to their decisions. I'm surprised they didn't point their finger at the apple, or pear, or whatever type of fruit it was.

Those newlyweds might have invented the Blame Game, but they certainly didn't end it. The Israelites blamed God for bringing them to the wilderness only to let them die (Nu. 14:2). Job's wife blamed God and wanted her husband to do likewise --"Curse God and die," the unsupportive wife cried (Job 2:9). Pilate blamed the mob for releasing Barabbas instead of Jesus (Mt. 27;24).

The Right blames the Left and vice versa for our country's economic woes. Parents accuse kids who, in return, point to the inadequacies of their moms and dads. An 80-year-old Taranaki man who assaulted a child with a plastic alkathene pipe said he was not to blame; he was merely following the Bible. Whites blame blacks, blacks blame Hispanics, and Hispanics blame whites. "The devil made me do it" certainly has had its run, and we are told that violent video games were responsible for the Virginia Tech massacre

None of us enjoy being in the wrong, but I meet far too many people who refuse to accept responsibility for their choices. In the classroom, I have found that when I admit I mess up, it gives my students permission to do the same. I would much rather have a teenager tell me he/she just "didn't do the homework" or "failed to work hard on a group task" rather than to hear, "Blame it on the dog," which I actually heard last month.

This past week I confiscated two cell phones in my classroom. When that happens, the student's parent has to come to the school to retrieve it, and the student gets an hour detention. One freshman immediately started his excuse list: "I have to text my dad to bring me lunch money. He didn't give it to me this morning. It's his fault, not mine." When I didn't budge, he added a couple of profane words directed towards his father, and I gave him another detention. The senior, on the other hand, took full responsibility. "I was in the wrong. I deserved it." Which one, would you guess, made me want to write him a letter of recommendation or to nominate him for an award?

Blaming others may be a parlor game, but it is no way to live life. Blamers might want to consider the source of their need to blame. Children are prone to blame because they have not learned how to take responsibility for their actions. Maybe it's time to grow up. Blaming others can result from the inability to deal with stressful situations. Maybe it's time to develop the skill to cope. Blaming is often a way to gain power when one feels weak. Maybe it's time to take control of our own life. Perhaps these things are easier said than done, but to paraphrase the naturalist John Burroughs, "A person can get discouraged many times but does not fail until he or she blames someone else and stops trying."

That being said, I must hurry now and get this article in to The Tribune. I'm running a little late this week. Not my fault. Had one written, but my dog....

Just kidding.

It was my cat.