“You are a good man. You are a good man. You are what America is all about.”
These are the words that introduced me to Frank Caprio, a judge from Providence, Rhode Island.
In circumstances I still don’t quite understand, Caprio had a fairly popular YouTube channel showcasing the arguments and decisions of his sessions which revolved mostly around traffic violations.
(My confusion wasn’t that the channel was popular, but why a court would even allow its proceedings to be broadcast in this way.)
In this particular clip, the judge is facing a 96 year old defendant accused of speeding.
The man addresses the charges. He doesn’t drive much. And when he does, he certainly takes it slow. In this particular instance, he had to drive because he had to take his disabled son to the doctor for bloodwork.
Turns out not only is the child disabled but he also has cancer and needs to go to the doctor every two weeks to be checked.
So this Dad, at nearly 100 years old, still does what Dads do. He takes his over 70 year old son to the doctor.
And I am sure the other passengers on the shuttle bus that carries me from my apartment to the subway are concerned because I am crying my fucking eyes out.
Because it’s too much reality. When you have children, the responsibility never really ends. When you have a child with disabilities, those responsibilities feel deeper and heavier and the finish line seems even more distant.
So I’m sitting on the bus in a seat that is too narrow for my wide shoulders and it feels heavy and overwhelming and unknowable.
But it also feels hopeful. Because these two older men who, I am certain, have both seen and experienced so much, treat each other with a level of care and respect and compassion that it makes me hopeful.
Hopeful that people like this exist.
But here’s the thing, lately it feels like kindness has gone missing.
Scroll through social media, turn on the news, or just watch how people speak to each other online. It feels like we’ve forgotten how to give each other the benefit of the doubt. Everything is outrage, dunking, sarcasm, tearing someone else down so we can feel taller.
And I get it. Life is stressful. The world feels unstable. We all have bills, jobs, kids, worries that keep us up at night. It’s easier to lash out than it is to extend a hand. But when I see Judge Caprio listen to a 96-year-old father talk about driving his sick son to the doctor, and instead of lecturing him, meet him with warmth and compassion, it reminds me that this is what we’re supposed to be doing.
Kindness is not weakness. Kindness is strength. Because it takes strength to set aside your own frustration and meet someone else with empathy. It takes strength to choose generosity over cynicism, forgiveness over judgment.
I think we need a kindness comeback. Not just as individuals, but as a culture. Not performative kindness, not “look at me being good, give me a pat on the back” kindness. But the quiet, everyday version. The kind that doesn’t trend but changes someone’s day.
Frank Caprio passed away this week, after a long battle with pancreatic cancer. A few years ago, he made what doctors called a miraculous comeback. But the disease returned, and before he died, he recorded one final message.
Not from the bench. Not in his robe. But from a hospital bed. He asked his fans for prayers. The same prayers he credited with helping him through his first fight. He believed in the power of people, the power of community, the power of kindness.
I’m praying for you, Judge Caprio. Even though you’re gone, you left behind a living example of what kindness can look like. In your own words, you were a good man. You were what America should be all about.