Bonus pts. if you can name who is on the t‑shirt
You could ask any of my siblings (one brother, four sisters) and they would tell you I was the black sheep. One sister even gave me one for Christmas! (see photo) How did I become the black sheep? You got me. My oldest sister dated my two high school basketball heroes, graduated from the Wharten School of Business, and was always my father’s favorite. My older brother was a National Merit Scholar, a varsity baseball pitcher, and a whiz at Latin. I got kicked off the basketball team my sophomore year for bringing home a report card with two C’s. The die was cast. But I sure did make it easier for the three sisters who followed me.
I became the sole proprietor of the family title for all eternity when I dropped out of college and got arrested for possession of marijuana. It got worse. While on probation, I got busted again—for possession of one roach (marijuana cigarette butt)—during a St. Louis drug raid. The cop’s first words: “We got a rap on you, kid.” This time I was sentenced to a year in the St. Louis County Jail. Unthinkable for a Malmgren—my father never once visited me in jail—but my mom did. It took six or seven years for my father and me to reconcile—but that’s another essay.
So what exactly encompasses waywardness? Obviously, being a disappointment to your parents. I don’t think trouble with the law is required, but a problem with authority is. Profligacy is a prevalent characteristic. All of this can seem rather glamorously rebellious. Let’s face it; being wayward can be a lot of fun. But I ruefully admit the most basic trait of a black sheep is to put one’s own desires, objectives, aims and ambitions above anyone else’s. You’ve heard the old saw: the essence of sin is its middle letter.
My nephew Bryce is the black sheep of his family. We talk about it some, and I suspect that we both take a secret pride in our honorary title. Did I mention that another characteristic of black sheep is pigheadedness? Not every family has one. Many children only dabble off the way. I don’t think my immediate family has a black sheep—although I’m guessing all five of us would nominate the same person. Does your family have one? Is it you? Can a family have two black sheep…never thought about that.
What becomes of black sheep? I can speculate on three common alternatives: First, I am convinced that we have a higher mortality rate. A reckless, unprincipled life leads to questionable companionship, hazardous situations, and bad decisions—not exactly a formula for easy living. My second option is almost as unattractive—aging black sheep become selfish, hardened, bitter and lonely old people, like a tattoo on wrinkled skin. Living for yourself inevitably drives others away.
Ah, but the third alternative: the black sheep is redeemed! We have the best shot at discovering God’s love. Jesus spoke of the fallen woman in Luke 7: “I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.” Do you get it? We wayward ones are the very best candidates for a love relationship with the Creator of the universe. That’s why the parable of the lost sheep is one of my very favorites. The Good Shepherd leaves the 99 to go and find the one who has wandered off. He returns with it draped over his shoulders. The Bible doesn’t say for sure, but I’ll bet you that sheep was black.
Owen — your comment about us all being gray sheep is certainly most apt. I guess my analysis of the “black sheep” was intended to de-romanticize the characterization. I think you become a “black sheep” in your family mainly by doing stupid things, and you usually do them for selfish reasons. At least i did.
Degenerate? Did I came across that strong? i didn’t mean to. I personally have a warm place in my heart for the black sheep in any family (I would have said Frederick in yours), having been one myself. My main point was that black sheep, in their own special way, need to get found. And as you can tell from most of my essays (which I appreciate you reading!), I’m not a great believer in self-realization.
I’m going to agree with Gretch on this one. A black sheep, to me, only implies a distaste for conformity, which could be argued as a valuable trait for many paths in life. In some ways I think it also implies a projection of shame for a perceived failure, as in getting 2 c’s while your brother is being a rockstar, but isn’t everyone a black sheep if we only compare our failures to other people’s accomplishments? Is it better to strive to be a white sheep? Doesn’t that bring about it’s own set of problems? And let’s be honest, aren’t we all gray sheep? Why am I feeling so sleepy all of a sudden?
Black sheep aren’t always degenerates. Some just want to go their own way and if tolerated and maybe even encouraged can go on to find true love and true identity , develop their own special gifts and be self realized. That’s my two cents from the maybe not black sheep of the family but the juvenile delinquent.