Claire Oliver – managing editor. On Nov. 10, a man with a rifle walked into a drug testing facility in Tualatin, Ore. Once inside, he shot and killed his estranged wife, who had filed for divorce one week earlier, critically injured the other staff members present and committed suicide.
As just one of a string of shootings in the Pacific Northwest as of late, this story paints a horrific picture of gun violence that is enough to startle anyone.
But for me, this occurrence hit a little closer to home.
At the beginning of last summer, I visited this particular facility to submit a drug test for my employer. What should have taken five minutes turned into an embarrassing two-hour ordeal, as the man administering the test accused me of faking my sample, called my employer and flat-out harassed me while I waited to retake the test.
Several months later, as it turns out, the same man who practically traumatized me was one of those injured by the aforementioned gunman.
At first, the most cynical part of me thought about karma, but I quickly stopped myself. This was not about me. No one deserves to be shot; a woman died in this incident, and violence isn’t a joking matter.
There are, however, some important reminders that I’ve taken away from my miniscule connection to this story, ones that I think everyone can learn from, even in nonviolent situations.
First and foremost: Don’t shoot people.
Second and probably more applicable, watching this story unfold on the news was a chilling reminder of how small the world really is. Even the most fleeting interactions with strangers can have a lasting effect on people’s lives.
In my case, my drug-testing debacle was definitely a deal-breaker. I’m sure everyone has experienced a similar negative encounter with a service representative. On the other hand, I’ve been fortunate enough to meet strangers who have gone out of their way to be helpful. To these people, I’m more grateful than I can possibly express.
Personally, I’d rather make someone’s day than break it. I think this is simple enough — just be nice. This doesn’t require a grand gesture, it can be as easy as holding open a door for someone, giving a compliment or asking about someone’s day.
Pleasantries are not useless. Use them.
The Tualatin incident was eye-opening for a number of reasons, one of which involved me realizing that I’m guilty of giving in to my frustrations and behaving in a not-so-nice way. (Especially while working as a waitress; sometimes I couldn’t help it.)
For me, I think shyness is often mistaken as arrogance, but I’m taking the thoughts brought up by this bizarre small-world scenario as a personal challenge to move actively mind my manners.
There’s no need to beat a dead horse and say that life is short, but it’s true. The little things do count.
Goodness knows, you don’t want to be on the wrong side of karma.