B-Rant

- submitted by Megan Roth on 07/25/2008

  

Beware of Frightening Local Species: The Suburban Martyr

By Megan Roth

She lurks in the corner of every fundraiser. He lingers nearby at a party, eavesdropping and eager to find the perfect opportunity to slip in and casually mention his latest do-gooder feat. She's got casseroles sleeping in her deep freeze, waiting for the next family illness, divorce, or the next kid to get mono. Meet the Suburban Martyr, climbing the ranks of your neighborhood Most Wanted List.

I grew up in close proximity to a Suburban Martyr, and watched her every move with fear and awe. She had a recipe card organizer sorted by surnames of families in our small town in Alabama. The filing system was complete with the names of every grandchild, graduation and divorce. She jotted down relevant notes while on the phone and then filed them under the appropriate category.

You see, Suburban Martyrdom is an art, a certain finesse that one must obtain to reach a peak level of do-gooderness. Thanks to my upbringing, I can now spot a Suburban Martyr from a mile away.

He's the guy at the charity sports tournament, for example, who mans the cooler, offering a Gatorade or perhaps a cold brewsky to each innocent passerby. Little do his victims know that the SM is tallying each and every taker, remembering a face and a name, and stocking his mental recipe catalogue with those who owe him or her a little something down the road.

I recently encountered a Suburban Martyr at a friend's surprise birthday bash. I arrived to the party several hours late after a long airport delay upon returning from a trip to Miami. At the party, a discussion about airplane etiquette arose, and I told the group about a particularly annoying child in the row behind me on the plane who screamed, cried, and kicked my seat from takeoff to touchdown.

Finding the opportunity to interject, the Suburban Martyr announced loudly to the group, "Well, whenever I'm on a flight where I'm able to pick my own seat, I always look for a child or baby on the plane and sit near them. I figure it's the least I can do, since many people are so intolerant of children. I figure the parents will be grateful for someone who understands how hard it is to keep a child content on a plane."

What is one to do when so blatantly out-martyred in front of an audience? Luckily, bystanders shared my awkward feelings and stumbled to change the topic of conversation as the Suburban Martyr glowed with unmistakable pride.

Warning signs that you are dealing with a Suburban Martyr:

• A Suburban Martyr talks on the cell phone to a friend or family member while others are in earshot. Upon hanging up, the SM looks around the room or vicinity, desperate for someone to inquire about the call and ask if everything is "OK" The Suburban Martyr, if left unsatisfied, will announce that he or she is terribly sorry to have been on the phone, but it just so happens that her friend or family member is sick, in the hospital, dealing with a grave loss, etc.

• A Suburban Martyr, upon hearing that you've been ill or had a recent hardship, will call, write a letter, email, or send a gift to your home. This seems innocent enough, but when dealing with a true Suburban Martyr that call or email is a ticking time-bomb. The SM is now waiting for your reply, and every day that passes without your expression of gratitude for his or her expression of good will is another black mark in the Suburban Martyr's book.

How to ward off potential crises with the Suburban Martyr:

• Do not accept any free beer, food, or any other favors from the SM. Remember, free gifts from the Suburban Martyr are not free.

• Look busy and pretend not to notice the Suburban Martyr dragging around a giant trash bag at the local event, picking up everyone's empty water bottles and banana peels. Even when the Suburban Martyr drags his giant Hefty bag right in front of your path, slows for a second, wipes the sweat from his or her forehead and comments on the heat, simply pick up a few bottles and orange peels yourself and keep to your business.

• Play dumb. Whenever the SM hooks you into a conversation that's heading straight to Victimville, change the subject, or comment on how friendly and willing to help out everyone in the neighborhood seems to be. Don't let the Suburban Martyr hook you into his or her game. You'll be sorry if you entertain the idea that the Suburban Martyr really is selflessly and tirelessly holding the entire neighborhood together.

Finally, how to ensure you don't become a Suburban Martyr:

• Never volunteer to do something unless you're ready, willing, and able. If you don't want to help out with the soup kitchen, don't help out with the soup kitchen.

• If you do help out with the soup kitchen, consider yourself rewarded by the fact that you helped someone - don't get caught in a cycle of seeking appreciation and feeling resentful of your efforts. It'll only lead straight to Suburban Martyrdom!

Megan Roth is a freelance writer and cartoonist from Birmingham, Alabama, as well as a Michener Fellow in Poetry at the University of Miami. She writes by day and designs t-shirts by night at www.clikfish.com. Megan is currently writing The Green Guide to Daily Living, available from Sweetwater Press in November, 2008.