Matt & Eli

Well, I didn’t see anyone I knew at first desperate-look-over of the crowd, so I ended up taking a seat surrounded by two empty seats – one of which was quickly filled by a girl who smelt obnoxiously horrible as only a pothead can. However, despite the watering of my eyes and the murky discomfort settling down in my lungs, when I looked over and saw Mr. Clare chatting with some of the professors I was absolutely taken and reassured by his wide, absolute smile. My first thought was: what’s his disability? And as for Matt? Her voice stunned me because my first take had been that she, too, was a man. But both of these questions, pleasantly and grumpily, were answered in their own ways.

I, personally, really do find it ridiculous that we have labels that force people into strict categories: male or female, straight or gay, healthy or disabled – after all, before the straight and gay distinction men were sleeping all over the place and nobody had any qualms with it. In fact, in Rome (back in the day) wives were kept primarily to run the house and have children and it was the male/male relationships that really mattered and established you socially. However, when Matt mentioned her nephew the “pft” kind of thought did pass my mind: it would sound pretty ridiculous for the doctor to say: “Congratulations! It has a penis!” vs. “Congratulations! It’s a boy!”

I did have a strong reaction, however, to the story about the Latino boy who was shot in middle school – the fact that the reasons for the murder were prematurely ironed out to hate crime because he was gay really pisses me off. This was absolutely unfair to both him/her and the boy who killed him. I was actually discussing this with a friend of mine who hadn’t gone to the lecture but who had read about that particular case before and he quickly corrected me that it wasn’t a hate crime but one more of desperation as the boy considered himself harassed, stalked, and verbally/emotionally abused by the other boy. This ironing out of all the other complexities and layers that make us who we are strips us of our humanity – by chiseling that boy down to merely “because he was gay” this stamped his entire being with nothing but the word “gay”, forcing him out of his name, personality, hobbies, friends, familial relationships, race, religion, everything.

I did disagree, however, with Matt when she mentioned the definition of racism that she liked – racism: a vulnerability to premature death. I think that is far, far, far too broad a statement to link it directly to racism. Now, I know a lot of my disagreements on this sort of thing will be (perhaps not by my fellow Paideia members, but by “other people”) answered with: she only feels that way because she’s a straight, middle-class, white woman and thus can’t possibly understand because she obviously hasn’t suffered.

Let me make this perfectly clear: so long as hatred exists – we all suffer.

It stunned me down to my tingly-bones when Matt announced that being a black person meant that things (acts of violence and hatred) happen all the time. It stunned me down to the rest of my tingly-bones when Eli announced that every month at least one person is murdered because of transphobia (hatred of those who are transgender). I know this’ll just sound school-girlish but I don’t understand how anyone can live with themselves for being so grimed up and clogged with ugliness as to feel and act in those ways toward another human being.

Why don’t we just call each other human beings and accept that our differences are OUR differences – and maybe we like them.

A Smile A Day Keeps Kids From Doin' Crazy Shit -- Mostly

Looking back over my volunteer days at the Boys and Girls club, I feel a suddenly much more intense respect for the crazy crazy crazy (but good ) people who work there on a daily basis – who work there on a daily basis cheerfully. Those are a fantastic bunch of kids, don’t get me wrong, Ella’s granddaughter hangs out there, after all, but man oh man, some of them need attention so badly that they frighten me for what their home life must be like – either they’re being neglected or their poor parents are neglecting themselves for trying to give these kids the attention they need/demand. It’s not just an ADD/ADHD sort of situation, I’ve grown up alongside those kids, this is a whole ‘notha level of oh-my-goodness-don’t-do-that!

Just as a warning: watch out for little Jeremy! He’s cuter than a broken button parade and doesn’t seem to understand the fact that he is breakable as well.

Hey, look how far back I can twist my head!
I can do that!
Hey, watch me flip!
Hey, watch me do some other freakin’ crazy stunt on a hard, tiled floor in socks!

It’s maddening when all you wanna do is have a good time and suddenly you realize the kid could’ve just brained himself. Oy vey!

On a happier note, the kids actually do listen to you and learn from you whether it seems like it or not. We had multiple kids who, by the end of it, could remember the names and way to do certain Tai Chi and Yoga moves and recognized and got better at some of the gymnastics moves and dances – we actually had kids requesting specific exercises by the end of it and even if they performed it incorrectly every time, it was an educational impression, a confidence builder for both them and myself.

I recall not ever wanting to go there by myself at the start of all this – and now?
Now, knowing the kind of welcome these kids would give me, I’d gladly do whatever I could for them, alone or in a group setting. Save working there on a more permanent basis, of course. I’m sure this affection is one heavily nurtured by the fact that I was able to leave, the same sort most babysitter’s feel for infants, or preteens feel for most relatives.

Be as involved and happy about things as possible, don’t be bogged down if there’s one or two (or, lets face it, five or six) kids who aren’t really paying attention or participating, because the ones who are participating are depending upon your continuance and good attitude to keep them in the game, to help them justify to themselves and their friends to keep in the game. It can be very easy to get frustrated with the levels of disorder and craziness going on with the kids, but that only makes your enthusiasm about some semblance of structure all the more important. Let the harshness and reprimands come from the B&G employee(s) that’ll be there shadowing you – if you become the ones trying to control and enforce then the kids won’t be as excited to see you, after all, you’re not there everyday to be a full role model where those sorts of moments are quickly forgotten, you’re labeled quickly in their minds and I think that our group was very, very good about keeping constantly involved and keeping constant smiles on our faces, even if we were correcting someone or trying to dissuade Jeremy from doing some other crazy thing, we tried to keep light and cheerful about it.