On Equity
Dad: “Go shovel the snow off of the sidewalk.”
Calvin: “Why?”
Dad: “It builds character.”
(A general quote from Calvin and Hobbes)
I reached to grab my sno-cone from the attendant. My sister was slurping away on hers. I looked over a noticed that she had a larger and more-colorful one. Immediately, I started to complain about how I got less. To the six-year-old mind, I was completely justified in my argument, but my mom, tired of hearing it, told me, “Life’s not fair.”
Like Calvin’s dad, my mom’s response was one of concise and unwelcome truth. Truth that I still struggle to comprehend.
I remember counting the gifts under the tree, trying to guess what they cost. It was a yearly tradition that preceded opening presents at Christmas. After the count, I would compare the number of gifts my sister and I received. I would question how my sister got more, or wonder why things panned out as they did. I tried not to complain, but I still wondered how that could have been fair.
It was 2:00am one morning and I was driving home. There wasn’t another car on the road, and I was making great time. I was nearly home when I stopped at a red light. For two minutes, I sat there, wondering how it could possibly be fair that I was sitting at a red light for two valuable minutes of my time. The light turned green and I drove toward my apartment, angry that I had wasted two minutes of my time.
A man has cancer—the doctors tell him that it’s an easy one to beat. A little chemo, a little time, and we’ll take care of this. After three months of chemo and a serious surgery, the cancer remains. The prognosis isn’t as rosy as it once way. It doesn’t seem fair.
Perhaps we have a romantic notion of fairness. Perhaps we believe we are entitled to health and happiness. Or maybe we’re confused and believe that fairness a part of life.
Life isn’t fair, but that doesn’t mean that life is bad. It just seems to happen differently than we all had planned.