Is being two-faced good?

Harry Truman once said, “Always be sincere, even if you don’t mean it.” I have no idea what his intention was behind that statement, but I’m not sure I agree with it whole-heartedly. To believe that, we would almost have to assume that we’re supposed to pretend to be genuine and sincere – to be approved by others (or to show approval to GET approval back). It seems to me as if that’s being a bit two-faced. Forgive me while I try to understand the logic behind that statement. I mean, I can certainly grock the definition of leading an audience to believe what I want them to believe, but why advocate it? Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t he elected president? When I think of a president, I think of of a leader oozing with charisma and off-the-charts communication skills (Bush could use some Obama tutorials). Knowing this, it seems quite expected that he would LEAD people to believe his sincerity even if he wasn’t. I still don’t understand why a leader would give people advice to be sincere if they don’t mean it.

On one hand, I can see his point. Sure. If we are “being” sincere, then technically we aren’t pretending. For some people, the art of pretending is precisely the same thing as “being” (for example, being hypnotized works simply by pretending, mainly.) On the other hand, if one doesn’t “mean” to be sincere, are they just play-acting?

I lived 17 years of my life in Alabama. Many people, including myself, make fun of  (or have made fun of) people who grew up in states where a majority of the people pride themselves on their ignorance. Hey, if ignorance is bliss, then the people I knew in Alabama are the happiest people in the world. It came as no surprise that because of this ignorance, many people would smile and “be fake genuine” to someone’s face and then turn around and talk smack about them behind their back. I remember sitting at dinner with my mother-in-law (when I was married back in 2000) and she and her daughter were making fun of a girl sitting at another table. I was shocked and appalled by this conversation and asked them to politely stop. When that didn’t work, I tried to divert the conversation to a happier subject. I even tried blatantly telling them what they were doing was wrong. They were literally blasting this girl behind her back, saying how ugly she was, how her hair looked bad, she had poor taste in clothes, and blah blah… you name it. They even made fun of her company of friends. Then seconds later, the girl looks up and she recognizes our family. She stands up to say hello and all of a sudden, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law burst into beautiful big smiles and pretend to be her best friend in the world. The minute the girl walked away, they made fun of her again as if wondering the audacity it was for her to join the conversation. I was appalled. It was that moment that I first began to feel ashamed for being associated with my in-laws.

That, and their many racial slurs. I remember wanting to invite some of my black friends to my wedding and the response I got from my mother-in-law was, “Have you okayed it with the church? Do they know you’re bringing colored people to the church?” I was shocked. There are no words that can adequately respond to that deep level of ignorance.

So how did Harry Truman do it? How does he practice people to be sincere even when they don’t mean it? That we pretend to like people to their faces but make fun of them behind their back? I would much rather someone hate me to my face, so at least then I can debate the reason why they feel the way they do. Or better yet, I can earn their love and loyalty. If someone is pretending to be sincere, I’ll be misled into believing something completely untrue. It would be quite a difficult challenge to ever advocate someone to embrace what I call “two-facism.”

The question one has to ask oneself is, “Is there beauty in being two-faced?” Technically, yes, there is. There is one-sided beauty. However, the other side is shrouded by a dark, black place that relies on one’s own insecurity to show an unreliable support for the other party. Could I forgive someone for being two-faced to me? Absolutely. Would I trust them if I knew they were being two-faced? Probably not. Trust. Trust. Trust. That’s a separate entry.

On the other hand, maybe always being nice to people avoids conflict. What do I know? Maybe I could learn a thing or two.

I’m also not sure agree with the comment, “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” Cause all people want to do is connect. In the most perfect kitchen, it’s likely one or more folks are going to be cooking. And if someone begins a conversation while cooking the rice while the other person is knifing a bunch of carrots, it’s likely someone might say, “It sure is hot in here.” Not necessarily because they’re hot, but because they want to show empathy to the other person who is sweating their ass off. And frankly, if the kitchen is hot and one can’t stand it, they should STAY THERE longer just so they can FEEL the temperature long enough to forgive it.

What’s the point of experiencing pain, hurt, and frustration unless there’s someone or something we have to forgive later? If we can’t forgive, that’s something we have to deal with. I’m still dealing with my forgiveness issues. I’ve gotten pretty dang far (I’m even to the point I could forgive my own rapists even if they were family members I trusted). A lot of those feelings of forgiveness came from STANDING the heat and dealing with it. If I could slightly tweak Mr. Truman’s response, I would say it like this: “If you can’t stand the heat, turn it up higher till you like it.”

One thing I’ve learned is that once I stopped complaining, I learned how to like things.