Red-Winged Blackbird

As it was setting, the sun had just touched the top of the few corn stalks that were remaining. A little boy and an old man were sitting in two chairs on the back deck. Watching the harvester finish the field, both were lost in their own thoughts. The old man looked at the field one last time and leaned forward.

“Your teacher says you are struggling in school this quarter.”

“Grandpa, you don’t have to call my mom ‘your teacher.’”

“It sounds more official that way. Besides, I know how smart my grandson is and that makes this disturbing news.”

“Well I just… I just don’t want to stand out.”

“Let me tell you a story from when I was younger. There was a certain blackbird who spent his days flying with the red-winged blackbirds. The blackbird had the mindset that he was a pretty bird but was missing one trait that would make him beautiful. Often flying with red-winged blackbirds made him feel like he was one of them, and he began to think a little color on his wings was all that he needed.”

“There was also a young boy who was a lonesome soul. He spent much of his days with a small BB gun. The boy often shot at tin cans and rabbits. One day the boy had climbed a tree looking for a different shooting angle. He had set up tin cans on the wooden fence below. As he was taking aim, four red-winged blackbirds and one blackbird landed on the fence. The boy changed his aim to the one blackbird that did not match. The blackbird was admiring the birds around him when he heard a ‘pop.’ There was an odd sensation, and the bird realized he could not move his wings. Finally looking down at his own wings, he could see the BB had gone clean through his wings and chest. A faint red was spreading out onto the wings. The blackbird’s last living thought was how beautiful he finally was, rather than how foolish he had been putting himself in that position.”

“But grandpa, he tried so hard to fit in, and the bird was shot because he was different from the other birds. How does that help my fear of standing out?”

“Standing out is a risk we take. Sometimes we are attacked for standing out. Other times we are beacons to others to stand out. I think you will find it is a risk worth taking.”

“What if the other kids make fun of me?”

“What if the other kids come to you for help? Remember that boy who pulled the trigger?”

“You mean you, grandpa?”

“Yes, me. I once spent most of my time alone because I felt different, but then I ran into a little girl who spent all her time alone as well. When the other boys at school found out that we were friends, I received many insults and questions why I would spend my time with such a weird girl.”

“Again, grandpa, this story is not helping. Where do I fit in here?”

“That girl eventually became my wife. We eventually had children, and those children eventually had children; one of which is you.”

“I never thought of grandma as weird! So, did you really shoot a blackbird just because he was different from the other birds around him?”

“You know I never shoot at birds. Your grandmother enjoys them too much. Besides, if I was aiming at the blackbird, it was the red-winged blackbirds that should have been nervous. I was never a good shot.”