Once upon a time, there were three older kids that called an acquaintance and I over in what they veiled as a motive other than what their true motive was. Once they began to reveal their true motive, which was apparently was to intimidate the person I was with and threaten violence against him, I was preparing to go to battle. In my youthful naiveté, I underestimated the youngest and smallest among them, who was able to grab a weapon and hit me across my face with it completely out of my line of sight. I blacked out momentarily and fell to the ground. When I regained some consciousness, I couldn’t move my jaw all the way. I realized the kid that hit me was kicking me while I was down and the person I was with had run off, fine with me taking the brunt of the attack that was meant for him.

Later, following a ride home from a stranger who saw I was hurt, my father took me to the emergency room. The examination found broken orbital bones and a broken bone across the side of my face. It was difficult for me to eat for a whole week. I had to go back and forth to a children’s hospital a couple times before I had reconstructive surgery performed, putting metal plates in my face to hold bones together.

I lived in a pretty violent neighborhood and had very violent friends. When one of those friends found out, he came over to my house to check on my condition. He asked me for a description of the kids that were involved. There was little to no chance he would find them. This happened on the other side of town and the descriptions I gave were not going to be helpful. The intent though, was clear. An eye for an eye, so to speak. If found, my friend, well known for his propensity and skill in violence, would make this kid pay.

Retaliatory violence was common in my neighborhood. In fact, in the most extreme cases, it could not only lead to severe injury, but death, depending on the zeal and mentality of those who felt they were wronged.

The “lick back”, as some are calling it these days, could be for any number of reasons. It could be out of an assumed right to inflicting proportional suffering. For example, if you punch me in the face, I owe you one. It could be in pursuit of fixing a person’s win-loss column, or earning back what dignity was perceivably taken from them. For example, I lost that time, but I could have and should have won, or you did me wrong in your win, so now I have to get that loss back by getting a win over you. Sometimes the lick back comes from a perceived slight. An act or a show of perceived disrespect must be reconciled with violent appraisal.

In any event, where I came from, you were always on guard for violence from any direction, for any number of reasons. Violence was the language of the streets. That was what was required in survival mode. People were traumatized, didn’t feel loved, didn’t have access to basic human needs, and were taught respect was currency and the way to build that currency was through violence.

One day, a few months after the incident I had across town, a different friend of mine and I were riding the city bus to high school. This friend of mine was another friend who was quick to violence – a large guy, with razor sharp nails, who had proven himself able to inflict heavy damage on many opponents. We got on the bus and after we sat down, as I looked around, I saw the kid who had blindsided me and caused me pain and trauma a few months back. My friend asked what was up when he saw me notice him. I told him that was the kid. My friend immediately went into fight mode, and was pretty giddy about the opportunity to break the guy on my behalf. His plan was to wait him out, follow him off the bus, and wreck him.

This was it. This was the moment I had thought about for months since that day… what I would do to the kid that put me through that… that was responsible for the metal plates in my face – that would be there forever. What part of him would I break? My socialization in a community of respect and violence told me I should exact at the very least a proportionally violent act, if not slightly disproportionate, due to the added disrespect of blindsiding me, and my having to go to the E.R., and then back, and back again for surgery. Surely, this kid deserved what hell was coming for him.

As the bus progressed toward the next stop, the kid got up, signaling he was getting off the bus. My friend stood up, ready to follow him. The kid stepped off the bus. My friend moved to follow. I grabbed him. He looked at me. I told him, nah man, it’s not worth it. He asked if I was sure. I nodded. He came and sat back down next to me, fine with my decision if not disappointed he was unable to fulfill his vision for violence.

What happened in that split second decision to spare this kid a world of pain? I afforded him what he failed to afford me. Consideration. I considered how this kid was someone’s son. I considered how much I didn’t want someone else’s parents having to go through what mine went through. I considered how a single act of extreme violence could alter a person’s life forever in ways we can’t always predict. I considered that my friend, who was willing to commit a violent act on my behalf could potentially be charged with his act in a way this kid wasn’t charged with his, and I didn’t want that for him. Not at my expense. I considered how an act of violence in response to an act of violence wasn’t the best solution. I let him go. I let it go.

Among other things, this was something that happened along my path to redemption, toward making a better life for myself in the future. I would focus more on deprogramming myself from extreme poverty and survival mode. I refocused, searching for better opportunities to pursue more meaningful and productive interests. I would develop healthier relationships, focus on the positive aspects of my prior ones, acquire different role models, healthier habits, better modes of functioning and interpersonal communication, and work toward goal setting and achievement. I wanted a better life and a better world than what I had and had witnessed growing up.

I realized acts of compassion and kindness went a long way toward building who I wanted to be and what I wanted to see, and that, “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.”