The Other Emotion

       Everyone in the class had to give a speech that elicited some visible sign of emotion from the audience. And everyone went for the laugh, except for one person. Sue was not someone you might have expected to be different from the norm. Not at all. But Sue stood in front of the class when it was her turn, and the emotion she attempted was horror.

        And she delivered.

        Sue talked about how the children were killed in the concentration camps of Germany during World War II.

        The concentration camps were not news to us. And we knew that entire families were killed, including children. Genocide is horrors enough – this speech, however, was so much more.

        Sue's talk was just about the children. Lining them up, killing them instantly, and the more than one method for doing so. The speech was neither melodramatic nor cold. Sue spoke, and the rest of us sat there with our mouths open in astonishment and complete and total horror.

        I have talked on and on about the laughs the other classmates went for, and I gave my thoughts as to why people touch us with that which makes us laugh. But aside from my suggestion that we don't continue eating chicken at the bird-watchers' barbecue, I cannot remember another one of my lines or any of anyone else's speeches.

        I do recall, however, with goose bumps to this day rising on my arms whenever I am reminded of it, exactly what Sue said in her speech.

        And without it, I may have forgotten the entire assignment altogether.

        Laughter gets our attention and makes us forget our troubles for the moment.

        Horror gets our attention and makes us not forget.

        Never ever again.

246 20150903 The Other Emotion