WHY YOU WALK AWAY You’re at a party in high school. You’re introduced to them for the first time. They’re fun, charming, and good with words. They ask interesting questions. Not always deep, but always entertaining. From that moment on, you spend every waking minute together. It is as if they’re your missing piece, the piece you didn’t even know was missing. They make everything feel possible. Seasons change, but year after year, you return to them. They’re your touchstone. Sometimes you don’t see them for a while, but eventually, you always come back together. It is as if you are tethered to each other, this invisible bond that many family and friends don’t understand. To others it seems like you give more than you get in this relationship, but you know that is not true. You’re asked for a lot, but give even more. The bond is so unique that you are willing to make sacrifices to keep it. After many seasons change, you see little change in them. They’re stale repetition becomes more apparent, and the passion fades. The tether becomes withered and worn. You start spending time with different people, people with goals and ambition. People that make you feel secure rather than alive, but that’s okay. You’d rather feel secure at this point than always wondering and striving for something more. You lose touch. One day, you run into them again at a party. They make everything feel possible, yet at the same time, something is different. Is it you? Is it them? You’re not sure, but you’re willing to chance it.
Jenny Nelson Why You Walk Away Essay
So, you meet for coffee on a Saturday around 2. After talking for a while, the charm fades. You slowly realize that they are elitist. They don't seem to want to talk about anything current, always deflecting and talking about how it used to be. You see the inherent good in them, but it's hard to ignore some fundamental character flaws. Then, you realize they are racist. They are homophobic. They are misogynistic. They tried to hide it, but they can only hide for so long. The truth will come out. You try to cut your time short, but then they start to backpedal. They start to tell you what they think you want to hear. They can change. They're going to work on themselves. They've been reading a lot of books and going to webinars. They really feel like this is the year they will do the work and make the change to be better and more inclusive. But they need you to make the shift. If you get up and walk away, they won't change. They plead. They beg. They tell you about their concept for an adaptation of August: Osage County but with all people of color. Then when nothing else seems to persuade you, they offer you money, lots of money, and then you know. You feel it in your gut. They won't ever change.
Your eyes meet. It's clear they remember you, but the moment fades and they turn back to their friends to engage in some tired conversation about the importance of preserving our history. As you continue to walk away, you feel a wave of sadness come over you. Or is it a wave of peace? Hard to say. For a moment, you contemplate going over and introducing yourself. What's the harm? Maybe they’re good people. Maybe you’re the elitist here by not giving them a chance. Then, you hear one of them say, "We could remount Our Town. People need something familiar right now. The world is so difficult." And with those words, you keep walking forward, not back, because there is no other way to go.
So, you leave, and nothing changes for them. They continue on their path, and they get even more disconnected from real life because you walked away. You actually made it worse. Months later, you see them downtown hanging with another group of elites, laughing and talking about the good old days. You share a glance.
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