Sunday Night With John: Lessons From a Reformed Jerk

Lisa Clifton would probably have entitled this blog, "Lessons From a Reformed (insert colorful swear word for donkey, i.e., jerk, here)". The question you might have is, "What does Lisa Clifton have to do with me reforming my jerkish ways?". Well, let’s jump in the Delorean, hit 88 mph on the speedometer, and travel back to the fall of 2002. I was home from college visiting family. During the course of the visit, I meandered my way to a bonfire at the home of Joshua Riehl, an old friend. The time-honored tradition of seeing how much past high school mates have changed since college had commenced. (http://jpderryberry.com/blog/sunday-night-with-john-this-one-time-at-band-camp)

I plopped down and sat next to Josh to catch up and noticed an attractive familiar-looking blonde sitting in the chair on my left. She was rude and dismissive of me like I had said something mean to her. I could not completely place this person in my memory but I knew we were at least acquaintances. I also thought, what a odd thing to do--be rude and dismissive to someone you barely know. Plus, I had not been around the last two years. I was there to catch up with other people and began the age old communication pattern of, what have you been up to. 

I was two years removed from being at my worst. My college support systems had put a lot of bad memories into perspective. I was shedding the cocoon of anger I had surrounded myself with for five years. I was different from the guy who drove out of Ohio in the Fall of 2000. I knew I had been mean and dismissive in high school. I had had a little of a too-cool-for-school attitude. Well, if I’m being honest, it was a big too-cool-for-school attitude. I was a jerk to lots of people and I kind of liked being a jerk. It always meant that someone else was feeling my emotional pain. As the night wore, on it turned from just a conversation with Josh to a conversation with everyone sitting around the bonfire. When Lisa and I began chatting, I remembered who she was: a girl a year-and-half younger than me who attended my school in junior high and parts of high school. We chatted, and I attempted to flirt, because, as I mentioned earlier, Lisa was rather easy on the eyes. 

I thought I might be able to land a date before I headed back to Iowa. Little did I know that Lisa remembered my high school persona all too well. Lisa truthfully slapped the answer to that thought out of my head with, “I can’t believe you have changed this much.” I asked her what she meant.  Lisa unloaded on me. She pointed outhow deeply infectious my jerky attitude was. She said, "you made me feel so small, so unworthy of your presence, so beneath you in high school.  Now, here you sit: charming, nice, open, and a complete 180 percent turn from the person I despised in high school. I almost think it’s an act."  

I was shaken by this news. This explained her dismissive and rude exchange with me earlier in the evening. Negative interactions have a way of sticking with people. They remember with great disdain those who treated them poorly.  Lisa and I may have exchanged only a conversation or two in high school, but, I had left a horrible impression on her and made her feel small. My struggles as a depressed, angry teen caused me to not concern myself with the feelings of others. I had always felt that I had limited my negative impact crater to just my family and a couple of ex-high school girlfriends. “How big of an jerk was I? How many people did I hurt? How destructive was my attitude to others?”  All these thoughts were running through my head as my soul sank deep into the chair.  What selfish jerks fail to realize is how our jerkish acts can leave a messy stain on someone else’s soul. We do not have the right to do that. I did not have the right to do that. But, I did. 

As I sat in the chair, with a clearer picture of who I once was, I  chatted with old friends about my new life. The calming presence of a warm fire on a chilly Ohio night washed over me. I was no longer a jerk, but I was not yet fully reformed. I apologized to Lisa for my actions and knew that it came years too late. Being a jerk stays on withother people and it doesn’t result just in them not liking you. It can mess with their self-esteem, their confidence. I wish that being a jerk casts a reflection only on the jerk. But, usually the jerk is too far up their own butt to catch a glimpse of their real reflection. 

Lisa and I stayed in touch through the rest of college and carved out a nice friendship. There were hangouts whenI was home visiting. There were  phone calls and texts from Ohio to Iowa and Iowa to Ohio. She came to visit Iowa once and even admitted to having a good time. We even tailgated at a Cleveland Browns'p game. I don’t remember now, but I just assume the Browns lost that game. They lose every game. 

Our relationship, now that I was a reformed jerk, came full circle a couple of years ago. Lisa reached out to ask for advice when her father passed away. If you had asked Lisa in 1998 whether, in 2014, she would have any contact with John Paul Derryberry, her answer would have been, “Hell no, that guy is  an (insert swear word here)". But there she was asking a reformed jerk to help. Little did she know that her email would reveal how far I have come as a person.  I had gone from a selfish jerk who only cared about being above everyone else to a social-work warrior who actively campaigned every day to make the life of everyone I came in contact with at least five percent better.  

The best lesson this former jerk can pass on is the mantra I have carried with me since that bonfire, “Leave people better than you found them.” I had to face reality that day that, in my youth, I had made a lot of people’s lives worse and I did not want that type of impact to be my legacy. I still have my jerky moments and, even in 2002, I was working on a lot of issues. But, I was on the path to understanding how to truly inspire others. So, as we emerge from the Delorean back to the Christmas season of 2016, this former jerk, 98% reformed from my jerkish ways, (I’m sure my wife can point out how I’m a little jerky 2% of the time) wants to inspire everyone to follow the mantra, “Leave people better than you found them.” Make their day better. Remind them that they matter. Show them their worth to you. Put a smile on their face. Tell them they are smart, look good, and that you would miss them if they were gone. Even if we can only accomplish that with nine out of 10 of the people we come in contact with, the world would be a brighter place. And that, my friends, is a legacy this former jerk can live with. 
 

A thank to Lisa for helping put this blog together and granting permission for it to run. Next week will be the last Sunday Night with John for 2016. A much needed break is on the horizon for this weary life traveler.