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The Real GOOD Loser, A Story That Could…
Chapter Twenty: Hate
“Times like these…dark times…they can bring people together.”
— from the film Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince
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“Is it possible to be gay and not know it?”
In an episode of the show Two and Half Men, Charlie; the playboy slash womanizer in the show, is talking to his therapist and asks this question about whether he could be gay and not know it. It’s a joke in the show, but one that reminded me that everyone asks themselves weird questions from time to time…especially when growing up—I know I did.
With children being overrun with entertainment these days, those questions are occurring more often I think.
When Sirena suggested I watch that show Suits—saying it had a good story with not all that other “stuff”— I didn’t know what stuff she was referring to until later when I was watching a show that used the word “They” when referring to a character.
Watching things with my boys I’ve learned how they think and what they believe. I can predict their questions and have gotten more comfortable answering them. Not all of their questions though.
When that show used the word “they” when referring to a character it took all of us a minute to figure out what was happening because of that one word. “These are confusing times Mr. J.” In that moment of realization, words Pras used at the beginning of the year reverberated in my mind.
Disney is getting blasted for being “Woke” lately. That’s the new word being thrown around now and it was on one of their shows that me and my boys got confused by this “they” thing. As a medically diagnosed “they” because of my schizophrenia diagnoses I think I’m allowed to be annoyed if I wanted to be. Personally though, I’m annoyed with Disney for a whole lot of other reasons.
Their original shows I now pay to watch on an app aren’t very good. The runtimes are inconsistent; which shows a lack of investment in writing I think, and sometimes the credits at the end of show are just as long as the show itself. It also feels like I’m constantly watching a trailer for the next thing they want me to watch. Like all they want to do is keep me and my kids hanging on…so dad has to keep paying that monthly subscription fee.
It’s not just Disney doing this. Big name actors and actresses are being paid big money to star in things with stupid stories and dumb action everywhere. Facebook fed me a clip of an actor complaining about what streaming services were doing to the industry the other day. Seeing that had me assuming these actors and actresses are just as frustrated as I am about some of this.
Disney’s re-telling of the same stories over and over I find irritating as well. I consider it evidence of a society doing very little to encourage both children and adults to create new and original stories themselves. Forced to ruminate on money lately, in my journal I wrote that Disney Corp is another publicly traded company that has lost its way in the endless pursuit of more.
“I wouldn’t call it greed necessarily,” I concluded in that entry, “but instead a society crushing obligation to shareholders—Mr. Disney would be rolling in his grave I think. Or in that frozen icebox he may or may not be in according to conspiracy theories.”
Disney is going dark for profit too lately I’m seeing. And all its super-hero-multi-verse stuff with alternative timelines is hurting my brain at this point. To me, it just feels like they’re using incomprehensible storylines to milk us for all we got.
What if I had made different decisions? … What if my life didn’t have to end up this way? … What if I could be a different version of myself?
“Create a darn future already,” I’d tell Mr. Disney if I could. “And please stop making me think my current reality could be different if only I made different life decisions—Trust me…I get it.”
With everyone playing The Blame Game over all this “woke” stuff, I pieced together a less exciting explanation of what is happening that I wrote down in my journal after seeing that episode of Three and Half-Men.
“People that don’t feel like they fit reality are the ones most likely to spend time writing stories attempting to change it. I know that’s what I did,” —I wrote in my journal— “Those stories have been turned into things we see on screen now and so many of us feel as if as if uncomfortable is being forced on us.”
I don’t know if writing that would be considered insensitive of me, or “woke” … All the labels continue to confuse me.
While I can choose not to talk about this stuff if I want, I’m finding my boys can’t. They appear to be walking into the eye of the storm now. “Are we normal dad?” They could ask me today. “I don’t know boys,” I’d have to tell them. “Just don’t use that word normal, ok?…It’s not safe.”
There are truly unique situations I can’t speak on, which is why I would choose to stay quiet about all this and avoid offending someone who I’m sure is a good person. If I were forced to speak on it publicly however, I might suggest humanity is currently experiencing an “over-correction phase” in its evolution due to entertainment; and that an equilibrium will be found eventually.
This “Over-Correction Period” applies to a lot of aspects of our current reality—not just this woke entertainment stuff. Parenting for example. We over shelter our children today out of fear they might do the things we did in the past or because of the things we’ve heard about or seen on screen—we’re overcorrecting.
I find myself thinking about all this as Nel, Pras, and Lauryn talk to each other on the computer screen in front of me. These students and I have said goodbye to the year 2020 and are now welcoming in the year 2021.
With school on winter break, we had planned a short virtual check-in for today. In my email scheduling this meeting with them, I said to come with a few words written on a sticky note that might describe the year ahead: “Write yourself a fortune cookie,” I told them.
All of these students on screen did what I asked and came to this meeting with a sticky note stuck to their heads. Mine read: “You will be The Boy Who Lived.” I didn’t tell them this ties into a lesson I have planned for next week called The 400 Pound Gorilla. The fact they did something silly like this without me having to explain myself shows how far we’ve come, I think.
While I attend this meeting for my students, my mind is elsewhere.
Last night both my grandparents were brought to the hospital by ambulance. My grandfather was diagnosed with Covid a few days ago and now my grandmother isn’t feeling well either. They are both almost ninety now, and so it’s a scary time for my family who was once all very close because of them.
The guilt over not visiting them more is hitting me hard. Adding to that guilt is all these poor me thoughts I’ve been having lately.
Sitting at this computer I can’t help but think of how alone and perhaps frustrated they might be feeling right now. My mind remembers a post I saw on Facebook about the hospital they’re at: “It’s an absolute joke,” that post read, “I’ll get a bill for my ambulance ride to another hospital faster than I see someone here.”
While I worry about my grandparents, these faces on screen need me and so I’m doing my best to stay present. Pras sits alone in his cube while Lauryn and Nel share one; the two of them are together at Nel’s house. To start this meeting, I asked if anyone made a New Year’s Resolution for themselves.
“I’m gonna stop swearing,” Lauryn answered first.
“No f***ing way,” I quickly responded.
Hearing Lauryn’s resolution, I couldn’t help but make a joke of it by throwing an unedited F-Bomb her way. After getting my laugh, I told Lauryn I liked the resolution as swearing often makes it hard for people to see how awesome someone like her really is.
“Mr. J,” Nel then said from beside her, “we’re watching the show Ted Lasso. He reminds us of you. We both think so.”
“Yeah,” Lauryn added, “if you weren’t going gray and could grow a decent mustache you might even look like him Mr. J.”
Lauryn snuck in that jab with a big smile on her face.
All my life people have compared me to famous people for some reason. Being compared to Uncle Jesse from Full House was perhaps more flattering than this comparison, but I still took it as a compliment. Telling Nel and Lauryn I’d seen that show has me listening to them tell Pras about it now.
Watching Ted Lasso made me laugh, cry, and think all at the same time. A show like that, watched together and discussed constructively, could help these kids learn how to communicate with each other better. And feel more connected outside the classroom in the real world. I told Lily my thoughts on this when we were doing that sarcasm meter lesson with texting.
“Ryan Reynold’s-type-sarcasm is funny in movies,” I told her. “But in the real world someone who talks like that all the time comes across as a jerk. Someone needs to teach these kid this stuff,” I said, “I think watching things in school together would help.”
Suggesting kids consume entertainment in school would have people yelling all the things they need to be learning instead. I, myself, dreamt of teaching financial literacy to high school students once.
It’s not that I don’t think we should anymore, I just don’t think we need to jam an entire class down their throats: introduce them to ideas and show them where to find the information, then move on—a lot of topics could be covered in this way I think.
Kids can YouTube and Google their way to most all information they might need someday; and educate themselves when needed or interested. They cannot however YouTube or Google how to be a decent human being. Or how to consume entertainment intelligently so that it might not poison their perception of reality and of people in general like it is now.
Life is all about sharing common experiences. With cellphones that’s getting harder and harder to do with kids. Sirena thinks the answer is to remove phones from school. While that might help in school, I told her just the other day when she was complaining about this, it won’t help these kids in the real world.
Consuming entertainment together in school would take time and build relationships. It might also help with this distracted mind thing; as I’m noticing my boys having a harder and harder time sitting through shows and movies as they get older. It’s not just them… It’s happening to me too.
I remember first talking to Sirena about this when we were watching the show Modern Family before that fire. This class I’m teaching now was just a dream back then. Her divorcing me left me to watch a lot of things with my boys I wouldn’t have otherwise and has convinced me I’m right about a lot of this stuff—a silver lining, I guess.
“Hey Lauryn,” I interrupt my student’s discussion on screen, “is wanker a swear word?”
“No, Mr. J,” she says with a smile, “It’s not…you wanker. Hey—” she adds, “Did Miss Lily show you that video she made about your class yet?”
“She did,” I answer. “It was awesome, thank you guys. Just so you all know, we can still have check-ins like these if that funding doesn’t happen.”
Lily sent this video she made along with a course outline and examples of student work to the Massachusetts State Board Of Education. She hopes they will see what we are doing in this class and fund the program through the end of the school year.
Lily and I both know this is unlikely to happen but haven’t said so to these students. Her feeling invested in this program has me feeling optimistic about its future though.
“Mr. J,” Nel says from beside Lauryn. “What did Linda and Ernie think about Miss Lily by the way?”
“Yeah,” Lauryn adds, “did Mommy and Daddy approve or what?”
Lauryn and Nel tease me for a few minutes about this Lily thing. I let them have their fun and soon find myself saying goodbye to the two of them. Pras then becomes the only face I see on my computer screen.
“Mr. J,” he says, “why don’t you support the Black-Lives-Matter movement?”
“What are you talking about Pras?” I ask not having any clue why he’s saying this to me now.
“I know you’re not a racist or anything,” he says defensively. “When we were back at school on Halloween, I overheard you talking to the other teachers and you said you weren’t a fan…I’m just curious.”
Thinking back on that day, I quickly remember the conversation Pras is referring to and for a quick second feel uncomfortable. Pras and I have what I consider a friendship at this point though and so that feeling quickly fades allowing me to explain myself.
“I said I’m not a fan of the slogan Pras—not the movement in general. With everyone fighting over words that slogan was just asking to divide people I think.”
“What are we supposed to say?” Pras says sounding slightly annoyed with me now. “If we can’t get peoples’ attention nothing will change.”
On Halloween the conversation Pras overheard began when a fellow teacher said, “My jerk neighbor is selling shirts that say All Lives Matter….He thinks he’s so smart but really he’s just a racist in denial.” In response to that statement, I said this thing Pras overheard about not being a fan of the slogan.
Opinions continue to exhaust me. Signs in front of people’s houses have been popping up supporting this or that lately. When I see one I can’t help but think its someone’s passive aggressive attempt at fighting against someone else’s sign.
Pras overheard me saying things to try and fit in that day. Him talking to me now is a reminder to stay quiet. Unfortunately, that’s not a very normal thing to do these days. Earlier today that sports station I listen to in my car was playing entertaining calls from the past year to celebrate New Years.
One man complained about the cost of beer at a Patriots game. “Then that damn computer asks you for a tip,” the man shouted sort of hysterically. “It’s criminal…Robert Kraft—you’re a crook!”
That caller spoke to me as over the summer I took my boys to a pre-season football game and paid forty-five dollars for three pieces of pizza; I saved fifteen bucks by not getting myself one. I try to stay quiet but often can’t, and so now find myself trying to make things right with Pras.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t try and get people’s attention Pras,” I tell his face on screen. “But money will have everyone on the same team sooner or later. I just think people need to be more patient sometimes.”
“Patient!” Pras replies sounding super annoyed with me now. “We have been patient and racism in this country is only getting worst….”
Pras begins to lecture me as I start to feel that thin ice I’m walking on with him cracking beneath my feet. Listening to him has me remembering an audiobook talking about this: “Traditional racism on our planet is waning,” that book said, “racism today is based more on cultural differences than anything else.”
I heard that on my way to a softball game back in September; where a team in our league is full of Spanish speaking players. When they’re kicking our butt and cheering in a language I don’t understand, I think it’s natural to feel irritated. I feel the same way when a big loud pick-up truck or fancy sports car speeds byes me on the highway.
If that falls under “cultural differences” I’m not sure. But it’s what I thought about when I heard that thing about traditional racism waning.
When I explained what parts of that a-Hole story were made up to Pras, Nel, and Lauryn I told them the world is full of angry and frustrated and hate-filled people right now. I know what Pras is saying to me through this computer screen is true—and with the ugliness I’ve seen lately I can completely understand his desire for all the ugly racism to end right now—but ignorance spreads when provoked much easier than compassion can be taught to fight against it.
I don’t know if I read that somewhere or if I just made it up, regardless I know better than to throw such a wordy statement at Pras now.
My youngest asked what we sound like to Chinese people the other day. How racism based on language barriers will be solved that audiobook didn’t address—should I bring this up to Pras?
“I just think we’re going backwards Pras,” I finally say once Pras gives me a chance to speak. “Some people will never change, and I just think we’d be better off letting their racism die with them.”
“Jeez,” Pras replies. “That’s harsh Mr. J.”
Seeing Pras soften a bit I consider saying something about those MAGA hats he was talking about the other day. “Red is my favorite color,” he said to me. “Now I can’t see a red hat without thinking someone might be a jerk.”
Bringing that up would get Pras talking about politics again. Not wanting to do that, I try to think of something to say that might end this discussion and not lengthen it.
“Things are messed up Pras,” I decide to say. “Most people can hate anyone today regardless of skin color. I just think maybe we make it worse with signs demanding change of people that can’t. We poke the bear so to speak. Have faith though, Mr. Future President, things will get better…eventually.”
“You’re so stupid Mr. J.”
I’ve been calling Pras “Mr. Future President” jokingly lately; it’s how I introduced him to my boys. He loves his politics, and I sort of tease him for it.
Pras laughs and I see his face soften more. Seeing him smile has me feeling grateful to have survived this conversation without falling through that thin ice.
I now feel as if I’m safe—for a quick second at least…
*
Article Title: P.A.I.N. Through Hate
Dated: Friday January 1st, 2021
“A genuine leader is not a searcher of consensus but a molder of consensus.”
—a quote credited to Martin Luther King Jr.
“Hatred makes nothing but more hatred.”
According to one of the many books written about Martin Luther King Junior, his grandmother said this to him once. Do we credit her for changing the world? No, we do not. But she did because of the words she used and how they reverberated in another’s mind that was listening.
Class next will focus on the following question: We know the words we should not say, but why should we not say them?
As a warmup to that discussion, please read the following article and complete the reflection in your journal. A warning ahead of time: I had a different article prepared but changed it some today after talking to Pras—please keep an open mind as you proceed….
In 2014 I entered my first detox facility and was unpacking my bag when a familiar face passed my door. We saw each other in that moment but didn’t say anything. Little did I know that person would become a great friend and change my outlook on life forever.
That person I saw walk past my door went to the same high school as me where football is kind of a big deal. He was the quarterback when he was a senior and I played quarterback when I was a senior five years later. We darn well knew each other that first day but were both too ashamed to say hello at first because of where we were.
“Jose my ***g*…where you at Cracker Jack?”
Three days later I was in my room when I heard this yelled from the hall. There was no question who was looking for me—it was my new partner in crime: Billy Preston.
That’s not my friend’s real name by the way. It’s just the name I’m using for this article. You’ll know some of why I’m using a fake name in just a few seconds.
3…2…1…
I think my friend may have had “Race Identification Issue”. That description, though potentially super inappropriate, could not be more accurate if you knew my friend— “The Kid” we sometimes called him.
My friend was white like me but hung out with a lot of black kids growing up and sometimes threw words around that made me cringe. When he yelled from the hall “Jose my ***g*…where you at Cracker Jack?” he was a white kid—a “Cracker Jack”—yelling to me around a bunch of people we barely knew. Cringe.
My roommate in that place was black by the way. Luckily Billy had already made him a friend and so it was cool. Not to me, but to my roommate it was.
“That’s retarded.”
I planned on starting this article by saying that before I chose to use the more controversial N-word with you here. I was going talk about my friend Billy but use something I said growing up that is now considered super inappropriate instead of this thing Billy said.
Today I think the word “special” is acceptable when actually referring to a mentally challenged person. But if that’s true, then does that make all the people I call special retarded?
We live in sensitive and confusing times. Our class this week will focus on words and how they make us feel. Whether words are said out of ignorance, stupidity, or some other reason, the people that use them are just people—like you and me—and you should know how I feel about people by now: I like them even if I don’t often like how they act or behave.
In recovery we talk about the dangers of playing the victim a lot. If we were to write a list of victims, and define “victim” as “someone disadvantaged by the system”, what would be on our list?
Slaves? Women? Veterans? LGBTQ? Victims of an unjust financial system? Victims of a broken health care system? Victims of a broken educational system? What about people that lack decent parents or guidance—Are they victims of a faulty system as well?
Racism. Reverse Racism. Retaliatory Racism. The list of what makes a person feel like a victim is endless. What about me? Someone not affected so much by the list I just provided maybe but still feels like a victim. I’ve been screwed over a bunch——Where does my Victimhood fit in?
I was grateful to have my friend Billy with me at that detox facility. It was the first time either of us had been to a place like that and we both attacked recovery like we attacked sports: we were attentive students serious about getting our shit together and willing to put in the work.
A counselor at that facility gave us all a white piece of paper one day and told us to list all the things we hated on it. Making that list was one of the more memorable things I remember doing there. As you might imagine not everyone was happy to be there and so the list of things some of us hated was rather long.
We folded up our lists and then placed them in an empty tissue box. That councilor then told us about The 400 Pound Gorilla.
“Negative thoughts can consume an addict,” that councilor said. “This is the number one cause of relapse. Visualize a 400 Pound Gorilla in your head fighting away the demons that want you to fail. Hate nothing. The things you hate are just things and the people are just people—like you and me.”
After dinner that councilor took us outside and had us make a circle around a fire pit that was at the center of the facility. That councilor then lit that tissue box on fire.
“This world is not overflowing with hateful people like we sometimes think it is,” that councilor said. “It is overflowing with hate-FILLED people. Those are two very different things.”
Years later—when I found myself in that hallway house you’ve heard me talk about—I was more beaten down by life. And by addiction. I was in that “all life is suffering” mindset and hated many more things. Had I been given a white piece of paper to write the things I hate then however…I might have only written one thing: ME.
“You are in crisis, Jose,” my councilor at that halfway house said to me once. “Train your mind to see that crisis creates opportunity.”
My councilor at that hallway was full of words. Not all of them made sense to me. “Focus on the person not the stories they tell,” I heard him say once. “The stories are just stories—the person is the message.”
In places like that you can find things to like about most everyone. At least I did. Following those same people on social media—or watching when they are gathered in groups—you will see how they ACT in front of the world.
When you get to know people in places like that—when they are alone, and sometime at their lowest—you can often see them as they want to be; as they were as children maybe. They are delicate. They are sensitive. Many of them are open-minded and full of questions—not all, but many. A lot of them, crazy as it sounds, are optimistic. How many optimistic people do you come across in the real world today?
“Everyone is recovering from something J.”
My friend Billy said this to me at dinner one night at that detox facility in 2014. It was like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. I would have loved for this friend to be with me at that halfway house three years later. Sadly, he died before I was fortunate enough to make it there.
Those words he said reverberated in my head though. And I say them to you now so that they might reverberate in yours. We all have a reason to be angry and hate people today. And to hate the world if we so choose. My friend Billy was right: “We are all in recovery.”
We are all a victim. From what doesn’t matter. We can call ourselves victims of a broken world if we want.
As you go about life, keep that in mind when you hear words that might offend you. Feed that 400 Pound Gorilla in your head and tell yourself that the person saying those words is just a person—even if the words they use might be a bit retarded…like me.
I know that’s insensitive of me to say, but: “Focus on the person, not the stories they tell. The stories are just stories—the person is the message.”
WEEKLY QUESTION FOR REFLECTION:
“This world is not overflowing with hateful people like we sometimes think it is—It is overflowing with hate-FILLED people. Those are two very different things.” In your journals, please write what you think this means and whether you agree or not.
The Teacher’s Playlist:
Bombs Away (feat. Morgan Freeman) by B.o.B
“The end is only the beginning.”
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(End of Chapter 20)
Recovery High School 