CYNICISM 101

How trusting are you? Do you have any trust issues? Have you always been a trusting person? If you still are, that’s great, but have a feeling that’s not what the majority of people would say. When did it change? Maybe a friend screwed you over more than once. Maybe your child did something so despicable that all credence is now lost. Maybe your spouse had an extramarital affair. Whatever the situation, it does seem to change your whole philosophy on life.

I considered myself a very trusting person and tried to see the best in everyone. Was one of the lucky ones who grew up with many of the same people throughout elementary, middle school and into high school. In school I never seemed to hang with the rebels or those who smoked and would probably have been referred to as a “Miss Goody Two Shoes“--the ideal student who tried to do the right thing and not get into trouble. Didn’t know anything about the drug scene or that one existed (did I have my head in the sand) and considered smoking and drinking to be the evils of the teen scene. Smoking especially was a sore subject, because I saw my dad puffing away the first 12 years of my life. Hated the smell and hated the fact that Dad couldn’t get away from the dinner table fast enough to go enjoy his “dessert.” Eldorado High had a smoking wall in front of the Humanities building. Every day I had to pass through to get to either a typing, shorthand, business law, creative writing, or bookkeeping class. One day, to my chagrin, I saw a good friend at the “wall” amidst the ever increasing crowd. It disappointed me and felt somewhat uncomfortable around her at first, but still considered Deanna my friend.

Had my first boyfriend in college. Mark gave me his ring and wore it when I went home for Christmas break. Everyone noticed the pep in my step and the euphoric appearance on my face, and why not--Debbie was in love! Returned to campus life and saw Mark on the tennis court. Noticed a sapphire ring on his hand and not one a male would wear. Mark tried to skirt the issue, but the guy was caught and finally fessed up. A girl gave it to him. Yes, Mark seemed to have a girl in every port. You’d think I’d have had a clue--his nickname was “Elvis.” Ended this short-term disaster but didn’t give up on the concept of love.

Carl and I hit a rocky patch in our courting days but… When it came to the affairs of the heart, I believed in love and closed my eyes to what was in front of me. Not a real good thing to do and hopefully still don’t have that tendency.

Maybe you would choose to call me Miss Gullibility or the Queen of Naiveté. A salesman’s dream. A regular pushover. (Any other cliché you care to add?) Probably not the best character trait to have when considering a law enforcement career. The criminals would have a field day.

So, what changed? After plodding along as a secretary in the corrections department for 1½ years, in 1983 I became a probation officer in the presentence unit. The job entailed interviewing defendants who either pled guilty or were convicted at trial of felony offenses; doing record checks; contacting interested parties, including the victim(s); writing presentence reports and making sentence recommendations to the judges; and covering these sentencings in court.

My first assignment out of the blocks was interviewing an individual in the county jail. Never had stepped foot inside a prison environment and it was quite an eye opener. There wasn’t a separate interview room so entered in among the inmate population. I’ll never forget the sound of that cell door closing. Didn’t get the whistles and the “yo, mamas” I had anticipated--you received those going by the construction sites. The inmates I passed were polite and well behaved and doubt it was the guard behind the glass protection making the difference. I finally reached the young black man sitting on his bunk. Can’t remember his name or the crime, but the maximum sentence was only one year. This was a pleasant fellow who told me he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and had never been in trouble with the law. After several minutes asking the formatted questions, I walked back to the office with an already determined recommendation. Read through the District Attorney’s file, did a complete record check and discovered that this young gentleman, who I foolishly believed, had priors in California and was on probation in Missouri. Talked to his probation officer who informed me that this guy was “a real bad dude.” Wrote my report and submitted it to Judge M who had been one of my professors in college and a fresh out-of-law-school ADA when I worked with Judge Sanchez 10 years earlier. During the sentencing, Judge M called me up to the bench to explain the reason for my recommendation. I had been quite forthright in the report and thought it was self-explanatory. I was furious that this man had lied and thought he deserved the maximum one year. That was good enough for Judge M and sentenced this pillar of the community to a year of incarceration.

Yes, I can attribute my new found cynicism, my doubtful attitude, and taking what people say with a grain of salt to this young man. I still treat people the way I want to be treated and would like to see the best in everyone, but I am skeptical and will just sit back and watch attentively before coming to a conclusion, and not always the right one at that. Jonathan is probably the only one who can still pull the wool over my eyes, but, hey, he’s my son and always try to give him the benefit of the doubt.