You can’t say you can’ play (Part 2)

Last year I almost stopped going to church because I felt so harassed by someone. I finally had to learn to tell him that he couldn’t hang out with me. I wrote about a lunch I had with him last year:

I had an awkward “young adult” lunch last week after church. See, there are the old young adults who no longer eat with the official young adult group. Then there is the official young adult group whose numbers are dwindling, because there are a couple (one in particular for me) obnoxious people who others don’t want to eat with.

It’s like an inverted circle of belonging with people in the middle of the group being rejected by the people forced to the edges. Because we won’t out and out kick someone out of the group, we kick ourselves out. It’s very curious. I’ve opted to take myself out of the lunch situation altogether on most Sundays (one of the “forced to the edges folks”), or just go with a couple friends. The unofficial groups are getting bigger than the official group. (This is leading to publicity interventions that don’t work as they are missing the point of the problem: fodder for a post on performance intervention.)

Churches are usually safe places for people to be included. I know that I felt safer at church when I was a kid knowing that the rules didn’t allow out and out exclusion. I feel safer at church now for some of the same reasons, now that I think about it. Because of this inclusion, people who will not be included anywhere else often end up at a church. It’s a situation I’ve experienced at every church I’ve attended. One friend calls it the “broken winged bird” syndrome. But, we are all broken winged birds at some time. You don’t have to be cool at church. (Ahh, what a relief.) In fact, you don’t even have to have social skills. (Ahh… What a headache.)

The particular lunch last Sunday was kind of funny if looked at as a scene in a movie. One of the new older young adults (try to keep this all straight) came up to me after church and whispered “I’m co-opting you. Come to lunch with us.” The way he said it was so cute that I said I would go. As we walked out, the obnoxious guy’s girlfriend (the guy I stopped going to lunches to avoid) asked where we were going for lunch and the new older guy told her! He didn’t realize that the older young adult people purposefully excludes these people. I just shook my head. When we arrived at the restaurant, the whole young adult crew had arrived before us and were sitting with the old young adults who were clearly angry. “I thought you were going to [this other restaurant]” One of the women said to me. I know she assumed I told all the young adults because I used to be the leader. Sigh.

The table was split down the middle and we might as well have been at different restaurants for all the interaction that occurred between the two groups. Ironically, I was stuck sitting near the obnoxious guy who I stopped going to lunches to avoid. I tried to ignore him. He tried to take a picture of my side of the table. “Please don’t take my picture right now.” I said. “Are you saying you don’t want your picture taken at any events?” He asked angrily.

The truth is that I just don’t want him to have my picture because he creeps me out. In fact, let me just drift into a fantasy answer for a minute: “No.” I tell him. “I’m fine with having my picture taken at events, but I’m not fine with you taking it. Because, you give me the creeps and the way you are taking my picture gives me the creeps and the way you used to follow me around and badger me makes me angry. I’ve told you that I find your behavior invasive, and that I don’t want you to talk to me, and now, here you are, talking to me. Go away! No one wants you at this restaurant! PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE!!!”

What I actually tell him is, “No, I just don’t want my picture taken right now.” He gets angry and tells his girlfriend, “She’s just selfish. I’m doing this for the group and she is just selfish!” “She’s eating! Leave her alone!” She tells him. They fight, his girlfriend walks out. He walks out after her. She comes back in. He’s still outside. “I’m sorry.” I say to her. “It’s not your fault. I just hate it when he gets all self righteous.” she says.

Sheesh. I drove home with the friend who invited me who didn’t notice any of this. He’s surprised when I tell him that the original people were angry that the official group came. “I just think ‘the more the merrier.’” He tells me.

What do you think? Is “you can’t say you can’t play” a good rule? Just for kids or for you too? How do you balance kindness, inclusion, and yet keep healthy and happy boundaries?

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