Summary

The author reflects on the annual reading of "Tattoos on the Heart" by Father Gregory Boyle, finding lessons in compassion and humanity from stories of L.A. gang members.

Abstract

"Tattoos on the Heart" by Father Gregory Boyle is a book that the author revisits every year, often on New Year's Day, to be reminded of the power of hope and boundless compassion. Despite not being Catholic, the author finds profound insights in the stories of gang members and marginalized individuals, which serve to humanize them and challenge preconceived notions about who matters in society. The book emphasizes that every life has value, and it encourages the reader to practice gratitude, recognize shared human experiences, and extend compassion without reservation. Through the lens of Boyle's work with gang members, the author learns to appreciate the abundance in their own life and to understand compassion as a mutual connection that bridges differences and heals collective wounds.

Opinions

The book is seen as a source of hope for a kinder world, transcending religious boundaries.
The stories in the book challenge the reader to reconsider their views on people living on the fringes of society.
The author acknowledges their own ignorance and lack of gratitude for the opportunities and comforts in their life.
Compassion is viewed as an easy gift to give, requiring only time and a willingness to listen and empathize.
The author believes that compassion should not be about feeling sorry for others but about recognizing the strength and courage in their struggles.
The stories from the book are considered to be relevant and resonant, despite originating from a specific time and place (L.A. in the late '80s and early '90s).
The author is moved by the transformative power of compassion and the impact of affirming words, as exemplified by the homie Sharkey's response to Father Boyle's praise.

Life Lessons From My Annual Read: “Tattoos on the Heart”

Every year for the last seven years, usually on New Year’s Day, I read the same book: Tattoos on Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion by Father Gregory Boyle. I guess I’m compelled to read this book because of the promise of hope a new year brings. Hope for a kinder world.

I’m not Catholic, and while a Christain theme weaves through the pages, Tattoos on the Heart is not a religious book. On its surface, the book is a collection of stories about gang members in L.A. Looking deeper, I read a story of gang bangers, and others living on the fringe of society, as “regular” people, with basic needs not so different from mine.

The stories shared in this book humanize those people with whom “the rest of us” cannot even comprehend. The unvarnished shame of the characters shines a light on my own shame in ways I never anticipated. And, like them, I deserve to be valued, too. We all matter. Every one of us.

“If there is a fundamental challenge within these stories, it is simply to change our lurking suspicion that some lives matter less than other lives.” ~ Father Gregory Boyle*

Gratitude is a daily practice.

As I read through the pages, I’m gently reminded of all the things in my life that I take for granted. And I’m slapped in the face with how ignorant I am of the reality of life for those living on the fringes.

I need to be more grateful for the opportunities I’ve had in my life. From a man just released from prison:*

“Now what do I do? I know how to sell drugs. I know how to gangbang. I know how to shank fools in prison. I don’t know how to change the oil in my car. I know how to drive but I don’t know how to park. And I don’t know how to wash my clothes except in the sink of a cell.”

I have a dresser, 90% of the walk-in closet, and a shoe closet. And I can’t remember the last time I appreciated my clothes. A kid had been regularly missing classes at school:

“He cries immediately, “I don’t got that much clothes.” He had so internalized the fact that he didn’t have clean clothes (or enough of them) that it infected his very sense of self.”

I’m not an important person, but I matter to some of the people around me. From a homie asking for a job:

““How old are you?” “Me?” “Well, yes, you.” “Oh. I’m 18.” “Do you have a driver’s license?” “Me?” “Yes, you.” The toxicity gets so internalized that it obliterates the “me.” You couldn’t possibly have an interest in knowing things about “me.”

Compassion is so easy to give.

The only thing compassion costs me is a little time. Time to listen, to empathize, time to genuinely care about someone else’s circumstances. Surely, I can find the time to be more compassionate.

“Compassion is always, at its most authentic, about a shift from the cramped world of self-preoccupation into a more expansive place of fellowship, of true kinship.”

We all stumble and fall throughout our lives. For some of us, however, it’s easier to get back up. From a kid just released from a detention center:

“I bet you’re afraid to be out, aren’t you” This seems to push the Play button on Looney’s tear ducts, and quickly he folds his arms on the front of my desk and rests his sobbing head on his folded arms. “I… just… want…. to have a life.” I am taken aback by the determination with which he says this.”

My compassion shouldn’t be about feeling sorry for someone or digging into their circumstances to find the cause of their pain. Maybe compassion is found in the joining of our collective wounds, bringing all of us and our individual differences just a little closer together until finally, we’re one.

“Here is what we seek: a compassion that can stand in awe at what the poor have to carry rather than stand in judgment at how they carry it.”

“Compassion is not about a relationship between the wounded and the healer. It’s a covenant between equals.”

I struggled to choose the quotes to share from Tattoos on the Heart. Each story I read seems better than the one before. The lessons to be learned from the experiences and perspectives of gang life in L.A. during the late ‘80’s and early ‘90’s still resonate today. I hope if you choose to read the entire book you’ll enjoy it as much as I do. Through the sadness and heartbreak, I hope you find joy and hope.

“Once, after dealing with a particularly exasperating homie named Sharkey, I switch my strategy and decide to catch him in the act of doing the right thing. I can see I have been too harsh and exacting with him, and he is, after all, trying the best he can. I tell him how heroic he is and how the courage he now exhibits in transforming his life far surpasses the hollow ‘bravery’ of his barrio past. I tell him that he is a giant among men. I mean it. Sharkey seems to be being thrown off balance by all this and silently stares at me. Then he says, ‘Damn, G…I’m gonna tattoo that on my heart.’”

*All excerpts taken from the book Tattoos on the Heart cited here: Boyle, Gregory 2010. Tattoos on Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion. New York, NY: Free Press.