Ground Zero

Oh shit, it’s been a long time. Writing this is probably like putting a message in a bottle. All the folks who were keeping the home fires burning have, long ago, thrown sand on the blaze and gone to take a well deserved nap. And who could blame them? The Oaklanders, it must have seemed, have become Durhamites and have forsaken all communication with the outside world. Almost true, we must admit. Although, not out of some selfish, premeditated plan to embark on the inexorable path to our hermitage, but rather because we simply have no fucking time. We are busy people, doing busy things.

I, as you know, became a high school teacher this year and have been learning interesting things about myself and others ever since. Mainly, that people suck. Specifically, as parents. And, it is absolutely astounding, just how badly. In my previous life as Bohemian dance teacher and ersatz Ukuleleist, I was in control of my movements in and out of the layers of social strata. I moved about freely and as I wished, often skimming along the top of regular “society”, but never holding my breath and diving underneath to see how the other fish were behaving. Well, it turns out that there are some damned ugly fish down there and they’ve got some damned ugly minnows with ‘em.

My first semester was, I don’t know. There’s not a word for it. I felt like the guy you see on the news who is watering his roof with a garden hose while a wildfire is raging ten feet from his house. He knows it’s futile. But what if it’s not? Unlike that guy, who will know, in a very short time, what the result of his efforts will be, I may never know. These kids come in every day, some haven’t eaten in awhile, some are on the wrong prescription or dosage, some are jaded, some angry, some are gay and don’t know it yet but the pain is already evident on their faces, and some are just sad and don’t know why. Do I make a difference in their lives? Probably. Is it enough? Probably not.

A student of mine was shot to death on Christmas Eve in the parking lot of our local mall. He was sixteen years old. He was standing up for his sister who was being harassed by some older boys and one of them decided that this act was reason enough to end his life. He was a sweet kid, my student. He wasn’t a great student, but he had a great personality and a ready smile and definitely deserved a chance at life. When something like this happens, you begin to replay every conversation and interaction you had with this person. Wondering if you left anything unsaid that, potentially, could have saved his life. Probably not, but the experience has certainly colored every interaction I’ve had with my kids since then.

Yep, ground zero is an interesting place to hang out in. I’ll tell you more about it later.