Thanks, Mr. Carraway

“Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

It has been a century since F Scott Fitzgerald wrote those words to open The Great Gatsby. 

Maybe Nick Carraway's father was onto something.

I catch myself ready to criticize someone, and that voice echoes back. Maybe the person I'm about to judge didn't grow up in a house with two loving parents. Maybe they didn't have a neighborhood where kids could round up half a dozen friends for street hockey or whiffle ball on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe their family didn't gather for holidays that become the stories you tell decades later, laughing about the same memories until they become mythology.

Who am I to criticize when I don't know where they came from?

How do I get in their mind and how do I do what Marcus Aurelius talks about doing and taking the horns of their perspective.  And why am I convinced that my perspective is right?  Is there something in there that I am about to criticize that I don’t have all the facts on? 

If that is the case, maybe I should check my facts.

I realize that Nick Carroway’s father was a fictional character, but he may have been on to something.  Nick had plenty of opportunities throughout the story of the Great Gatsby to criticize people.  The way the people in that story acted and the things they said about each other were enough to stop one in their tracks.  Nick was able to keep his perspective throughout the book and see people for what was behind the façade.  He was able to slow down and listen.  Listen to the story that these people were trying to tell him.  He learned a lot about these people and himself by keeping his father’s advice in mind. 

How can I be more like Nick Carroway?

How can I remember this when someone speeds down my street while I'm walking my dog?  They aren’t trying to break the speed limit on purpose or nearly hit me for sport.  There might be something behind their urgency—some disadvantage, some pressure, some pain—that I never had to carry.

The lesson isn't about excusing bad behavior. It's about pausing before judgment.

So thanks for the advice, Mr. Carraway. Thanks for reminding me that everyone is fighting battles I know nothing about. Thanks for teaching me that listening is an act of grace.