We're All Just People

Being a victim is weird. I mean, obviously it sucks. Lots. If you're a victim of something, then your world probably just fell apart.

But it's more than that. Being a victim means that you get sucked into this alternate reality where things that only happen to people in TV shows are happening to you, but none of it is the way that you think.

On TV you don't really see the police and lawyers and journalists as people. They are all just pieces in the whole crime/judgement puzzle. But I see them. I see them as people doing their jobs. And they're not easy jobs.

The first time I saw this was actually on my mission. I was a witness in a hostage case (sounds a lot more intense than it really was. I mean, it definitely was intense, but not in the way that you think). I had to go to court to testify against a man that I had previously taught because he had taken his less active ex-girlfriend hostage. The woman and I arrive at the courthouse, dreading what we were called there to do. We go sit down and there is this surreal duality in the room. Those sitting where we were were all very solemn. Those on the other side of the little wall thing were laughing and talking, just going about their jobs. It was very odd.

Flash forward a couple of years to this January. Two detectives knock on my door and my fiance is conspicuously not with them. From the moment I answered the door I knew what they were going to say. But they sat me down and told me and I could tell that they hated it. They hated having to tell a young college girl that her fiance had betrayed her in such a big way. They hated watching me sit there crying. At one point I asked one of them if he could give me a hug. His expression immediately softened and he said of course. And so I hugged this huge, super tall detective and cried on him. And in that moment he wasn't this big scary detective. He was just a person helping another person through a hard time.

Forward some more. I'm sitting on the same couch that I had been on when the detectives talked to me. This time there are two journalists sitting in front of me. Before they hit record they express sympathy. I can tell that they feel bad for me. They feel bad that they are about to ask me questions that will drudge everything up. They are extremely kind and considerate. As they interview me, they are not pushy at all. I am free to decline answering a question if I want to. After the interview they told me to let them know if they could do anything for me. They weren't talking about the article that time. They kept in touch throughout the editing process so that I knew what was going on and sent me as much information as they were able. They were people doing their jobs, but doing them in a way that they helped me to feel as comfortable with the process as possible.

Over the next few months I am in fairly constant contact with the detective on point in this case. Texting him as weird things are happening. Like getting at least one friend request every day from single men who made a Facebook, added a profile and cover photo, and then added me. No other friends, no other photos. Or when I got some kind of roundabout contact from my ex. Any time I had a question, I could trust that the detective would do his best to help me out. And in those moments he would try to soothe my concerns and instill confidence that he was doing everything that he could to get to the bottom of everything.

I also am getting calls from the prosecutor's office. I basically had a mini panic attack every time my phone rang and I looked down to see "Prosecutors" on the screen. Eventually it became fairly commonplace for me, especially if some sort of court proceeding was coming up. Talking to my sister on the phone "hang on, the prosecutor's office is calling, let me call you back." Every conversation with them made me emotional. It must suck to be them. They probably make people sad a lot and have to listen to people's voices crack.

Forward some more. I'm standing outside the courtroom, probably crying already. The journalist asks if I would be willing to talk to her after the pre-trial. I say maybe, we'll just have to see. I sob through the whole thing. She doesn't even try to talk to me after it's over. She knew that I wasn't up to talking, so she didn't even ask.

During the pre-trial the prosecuting attorney pulled me out of the courtroom a couple of times to talk to me. He wanted to see how I felt about what he was thinking of proposing to the court. He kept me very included. He also told me that his sister actually knows me. She was a sister missionary in my ward for about a year in Maryland when I was maybe 10. He told me that she called him a couple of times sobbing. He also told me to let him know if there is anything that he can do for me. He wanted to make sure that I was doing the best that I could be in such an awful situation.

A while later I'm heading into the I-Center because I'm singing in devotional. Lo and behold, there's the detective. I stop and say hello. He was there on security detail. He asks how I'm doing and we chat a bit. I ask him about my digital camera that was still in evidence (it was in my ex's apartment. When they described all of the cameras to me, I realized that they had my mission camera. I didn't give it to me ex, but I have a vague idea of why he had it). He told me that he would bring it to me later and to just text him when I got home after devo. He wished me luck and I went in.

That was one of those moments where I was just like "when did my life become so weird?" I shouldn't be able to just recognize a detective on sight and pleasantly chat with him about getting my own property out of evidence. But I can and I did.

He stopped by my apartment later and handed me a plastic evidence bag with my camera in it along with a release form that I had to sign.

Every time I've had to talk to the detective, or the lawyer, or the journalist, they always ask how I'm holding up. They do this because they are people too. They have lives and families. They do their jobs just like everyone else. And yet they receive so much hate much of the time.

I've actually become friends with the journalist and she has helped me to see that I'm really not your typical, well, anything in this situation. She's worked on court cases before and she told me that pretty much anyone else in a situation like mine would be calling for blood or else be in jail also because they murdered the perpetrator. But I forgave mine. All I wanted was for him to receive the sentence that would best help him to overcome whatever demons are haunting him. If that means jail time, okay. If he only needs probation, great! But I trusted in the court system to make that decision because I am inside the case and know how hard everyone has been working.

The journalist also told me that I should hate her. That's generally how it goes. She's the heartless journalist who exploits the most devastating parts of people's lives. But... She's not. She's covering a news story because that's her job. And she has been extremely sweet and respectful through the whole thing and has tried really hard to listen to my input as much as she can. But that's not how most people see her. To them she's just a nosy reporter whose main goal is to ruin their lives.

It's interesting to me that society today seems to be all about individuality and equality and not being judgmental and somehow that mindset has made us demand more conformity, less equality, and made us super judgey (hmm, that's a stupid word to spell. Not a real word, but everyone says it). Because we only appreciate individuals who are individual the way that WE are individual. And equality seems to often mean demeaning people's strengths and talents because they conform with stereotypes. And how dare someone judge us even though we're freaking judging everyone else!

I wish that we could strip all of that away and see that we're all people. Girls are people and boys are people and gays are people and Muslims are people and blacks, whites, Asians, Hispanics, etc are people and democrats are people and so are republicans. And lawyers are people and judges are people and journalists are people. We're all people trying to live our lives the best way that we know how. We all have different strengths and weaknesses and those are not tethered to any cultural, religious, or political stereotypes. Yes, some women like to be in the workplace. But some like to stay at home with their children. To each their own. And yes, a lot of Asians are super smart, but some of them aren't. And the same goes for blacks, whites, Polynesians, etc.

Muslim doesn't equal terrorist and Black doesn't equal ignorance and Boy doesn't equal beer and cars. Sometimes it does. But sometimes it doesn't.

And journalist doesn't equal heartless paparazzi and lawyer doesn't equal corrupt. Sometimes it does, but sometimes it doesn't.

I have been blessed to have so many amazing people working on this case. I know that not every victim is as lucky as I have been. I have been working with very considerate people who really just want the best for me and my ex and hope that I'll make it out of this whole mess as unscathed as possible. And that is so incredible and I appreciate it so much. Because this is hard. It really, truly is. I almost started crying at the grocery store today because I had to ask the pharmacy for documentation of prescriptions that I have filled since my ex's arrest so that I can turn it in to the prosecutor's office for restitution. Because this has effected every aspect of my life and the government that everyone hates is doing all that it can to soften the blows.

So can we please stop judging people by who we think that they are? Can we please look at people and see them for who they really are? People. People with jobs, lives, trials, emotions. Not everyone that you think should be actually is out to get you. Sometimes your waitress makes a mistake not because she's trying to make your life miserable, but because she's human and probably exhausted from being on her feet all day. Sometimes the cashier has to say no because of a policy, not because they're trying to being difficult. Sometimes the detective really cares about you as a person and wants to see you move on with your life and be happy. And sometimes the prosecuting attorney really is trying to help the defendant to get the help that he needs rather than slamming him with the worst punishment that he can think of.

I'm glad that I seem to be atypical. I'm glad that I really do try to see the best in people and give them the benefit of the doubt. Because it's much more fun to be kind to people than to hate them on principle. I would have missed out on a great friend if I had done that. It's just not worth the time to get frustrated at everyone who does something that you disagree with. Unless they are effecting you in a permanent way, just let them be. You don't know how their day has been or what they might be struggling with. They've had different life experiences than you. They ARE different than you. But they're really not. Because you're a person and so are they. And if you look at them with an eternal lens, you'll see a brother or sister giving this life their best shot. Just like you are.