The story that lies beyond our perception

While waiting in the parking lot of a local park before a client training session, a car pulled up a few yards from mine, and a man and woman got out. The man immediately walked to some bushes and, to put it delicately, began forcibly and repeatedly expelling phlegm from his lungs and throat, defined by the Urban Dictionary as “hocking loogies.”

As his companion looked on, it seemed the man was either attempting a world record or had very congested lungs. After his sixth “guttural expulsion,” I felt increasingly repulsed, and I thought, “Maybe he should see a doctor.” My sentiment, not surprisingly, wasn’t concern for his health.

Seemingly finished with his task, the couple walked a few feet before stopping at a trash can, where he picked up where he’d left off. Cringing in disbelief, I wondered who had failed to teach this guy how to behave in public.

My client arrived, and several minutes into our session, the couple strolled near us. That’s when it became apparent that the man was clearly neurodivergent, and the woman was his aide. Seeing this, I felt a jolt of shame for having assumed he simply had no manners.

I know my initial reaction was normal, and had I known the circumstances, I’d have reserved judgment. However, this reminded me that the quick impulse to assume, categorize, and judge others needs to be monitored. There’s almost always more to the story that lies beyond our perception.

From this lesson at the park, I pledge to stay alert for and rein in assumptions and judgments toward others, and afford them the same considerations I’d want to receive.