I remember playing frisbee in the park with my brother and younger sister as a youngster (probably 9 or 10 years old). We loved that park, it was across the street from our house, and we'd spend many Summer days running around with carefree abandon.
A group of kids noticed us, and crept closer. Eventually, they snatched our frisbee, and heckled us rudely. I was a bit put off by their behaviour, and wasn't sure what to do. When it became obvious they wouldn't return our toy, I turned around and mumbled 'You're an idiot'.
The leader of these pint-sized thugs stamped directly in front of me, and growled threateningly: 'What did you say?' 'I said that you're an idiot' I replied, without really thinking. I felt distant, as if I was looking at myself from afar, but I remember not feeling afraid, or even defiant. I think I was mostly dismayed, since our lovely frisbee afternoon had been disrupted.
The kid continued to try to intimidate me, demanding why I'd called him an idiot, and my quiet reply was 'Because you're acting like one'.
After many tense moments, the kid laughed at me and tossed us the frisbee. I hadn't backed down, but I also hadn't resorted to a violent response either, and I remain proud of that. I still feel (naively, perhaps) that reason and calm must win over irrationality.
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