The Best Policy

 

     From the time we’re children, we’re taught that we should always be honest. As we grow older, the waters get murky. We lie to get jobs, we lie to gain popularity among our peers, and we even lie in relationships.  Is the truth really something we want?

     As a little girl, I was taught to always be honest.  Having been raised by Baptist minister grandfather, I knew since infancy that honesty was important to character. However, my honesty often got me in trouble when I was a kid.

     I am reminded of an incident that happened in kindergarten that landed me in the “unhappy corner”. At show and tell a little girl was waxing poetic about becoming a big sister after the stork visited her house. I knew this was untrue. Months earlier my grandfather had told me the truth. My grandmother was too embarrassed to tackle my curiosity as to how “people were made.” Luckily, my grandfather was not so easily shocked.

     “What, Crystal?” my teacher sighed as my hand shot in the air.

     “That’s not true!” I shouted.

     “Yes, it is,” the girl protested.

     “No, it’s not,” I countered.

    

     “Storks don’t deliver babies. Your parents had sex,” I said confidently.

     My teacher was in shock. Seconds passed in absolute silence, which is amazing in a kindergarten class.

    “Crystal Demps! To the Unhappy Corner!” my teacher shouted.

     “But I told the truth!” I shouted as my teacher forcefully escorted me to the stool in the corner.

    I sat in the corner fuming.  It felt like I was facing the wall for hours. Eventually, my teacher came in to talk to me as the other children played outside during recess.

  

      

     “Crystal, face forward,” my teacher ordered.

     I turned around slowly. My time in the corner had changed me. I was insolent and flippant.

     “Do you know why you’re in the corner?”

     “Because I should’ve lied,” I said sharply.

     “No. You should always tell the truth.”

     “Then why are you punishing me?”

     “Natalie’s going to go home and ask her parents questions that they’re not ready for.”

     “She can come over my house. My grandpa will answer anything,” I said proudly.

    “That isn’t the point.”

    “I’m in trouble for telling the truth?” I asked.

     “No.”

     “Can I go play?”

     “No. I think it’s best you stay in here for the rest of recess.”

     “I told the truth,” I reasoned.

     My teacher gave me one last look and headed back outside to the other children. In that moment I learned the real truth: People don’t want to hear honesty. Especially, out of a kindergartner.

     As an adult, I’m still honest. I’ve learned that some situations warrant silence instead of the truth. Honesty is not something everyone can handle. Ignorance is easier to digest for some people, and that the honest truth.