A Weighty Experience
Throughout my military career, I traveled to many places and had encounters with all sorts of people. Some were religious, others atheist, some were tough, others timid; some were bright, other not quite. However, I was never prejudiced toward anyone regardless of those varied characteristics. When it came to physical appearance, however--in terms of weight--it was a completely different issue. I despised overweight people and considered them both lazy and careless, particularly if they were in the military. In addition, to me, being overweight was a liability. I would have hated to lose someone to combat simply because they couldn't keep their grubby little fingers out of the cookie jar. So I thought, until I had an experience that totally changed my attitude toward overweight people.
Shortly after my promotion to sergeant, I was assigned to train a unit of fifteen recruits who were deemed "unfit" by Marine Corps regulations. I wasn't enthusiastic about the assignment, but it did present a golden opportunity: not only could I show off my outstanding physical conditioning, but I was also allowed to mock the overweight soldiers. I searched on the Internet for "fat" jokes and insults I could use the next day. Not surprisingly, a group of trainees soon complained to the department officer about my training techniques, claiming that they could not stand my verbal abuse anymore.
The officer immediately called me to discuss my methods. I argued that my training techniques were within regulations and involved the same psychological methods that drill instructors used to motivate overweight recruits. He did not dispute my argument and allowed me to continue with my training methods. After several months, new soldiers were assigned to my squad while others passed the program and were processed out. However, I had become intensely disliked by many and even overheard rumors of people making obscene puns on my name [Rodney Vega]. But I didn't care; in fact, I pushed even harder.
My sense of superiority, however, was soon to be challenged. One morning a new soldier appeared unexpectedly in my unit. Anxious as always to show off in front of new people, I was more intense in training than ever. I enjoyed scaring the “Twinkies,” as I called the newly assigned overweight soldiers. We began that morning as usual jogging at a slow pace for two miles while I shouted cadences about cakes, Krispy Kreme doughnuts, and ice cream. Then I made everyone do the standard Marine three-mile run to test their individual fitness. My true intention, of course, was to humiliate the new individual. As always, I was far ahead of everyone on the track, but after the first mile, something happened. To my amazement, someone was closing in on me, and fast. I couldn’t believe it: it was the newbie! There was no way I was going to be beaten, so I gave it my all. But after two miles the new recruit was sitting at the finish line waiting for me.
In the attempt to redeem my pride, I tried to deny what was happening. I claimed that I had severe stomach pains. How could I admit that a “fat body” had defeated me in a race? And to make matters worse, the fat body was a young woman who had given birth just a few weeks before! I cancelled training for the next two days, claiming I needed to recover from the stomach pains. At our next meeting, I tried even harder, running like a train down the track; but to my extreme disappointment, she arrived at the finish line before me again. After one more humiliating loss, knowing that everyone in my division was silently mocking me, I began to admire her persistence and determination—and I began to like her too.
I tried a new way of making an impression. I ceased the verbal hazing and began treating the recruits with respect as real Marines. Everyone was surprised and wondered what caused my change of heart. They soon began to think highly of me. That, however, was just a bonus, as my real intention was to win the friendship of the young woman. As the days and weeks passed, I formed friendships with some of the people in my program by treating them as people just like me. As I got to know them, I realized that some were struggling with depression or medical conditions. They were not all sitting in bed with cheesecake and Doritos watching television. After listening to their stories, I became sympathetic toward their situations.
After seven months, I was replaced by a new sergeant and went on to other assignments. In the process of training others, I was the one who changed the most. The people whom I once ridiculed and made stereotypes of had not only proven themselves capable of enduring my rigorous training but had convinced me that I was no more special than they were. Because they helped me see my true self and what I had become, they in a sense saved me from myself. I’ve learned to accept others because of that invaluable experience. However, even though I gained much from that experience, I never succeeded in obtaining what I set out to get by changing my attitudes and behavior. I never got to date the young woman.
by Rodney Vega
from Steps for Writers