Devon Hunter

OH MY GOD!!

I don’t remember how much I’ve talked directly about it, but I used to be an educator for six years. I was a high school teacher and a college professor. I left, not because of students (who can definitely be challenging), but because of administrators and their bullshit politics. I am not the one to berate in front of parents/students/staff, I can tell you that much… I was so miserable within the institution that I ended up on medication. It was a rough time. Bad.

Anyway, from time to time a former student will find me on Facebook, and it is so overwhelmingly gratifying to see how well they’re doing! I remember them as teenagers or undergrads, so when I see these beautiful women completing degrees in law or nursing, or who are going to graduate school, and who tell me that it was ME who helped them get there??? OH MY GOD… you have no idea how much I wish I’d gotten that while I was still teaching… But, better late than never.

I loved my girls. I really did. I was in love with them, and they were constantly breaking my heart. The day I wrote my resignation letter for the high school was when I realized that I’d given all I could, and it would never be enough to fix the hurt and abuse many of them suffered. But today I got friend requests from over ten of my girls… TEN… And they’re all alive. They’re not only alive, they’re surviving. Better yet: They’re thriving! And it almost rips my heart out that they’ve become the incredible women they are. ME! ME! I inspired them to leave the neighborhoods that sought to clutch them and hold them; to break out of systemic abuse; to aspire to successes that no one else dreamed for them. ME!

If I’d had a little more of this nourishment as an educator I can tell you I would have never left it. But no. Our system is set up to blame every short coming on teachers, rather than on parents who don’t raise their children. Rather than on kids who have decided to refuse to learn. On political structures like No Child Left Behind that leave almost every child behind… And now they want to tie teacher pay to student achievement??? You must have lost your damn mind…

But, better late than never… I never regretted being an educator, but now I can look back, and much of the bitterness about those six years has evaporated. And this shines a bright light on a simple fact: People will extend beyond themselves time and again for only so long; however, a little simple recognition is sometimes enough to completely revitalize a drained battery. So, if you are in a position of power; or if you are someone who is guided by someone doing his/her best to help you learn; or if you see someone who is threadbear in his/her soul… THANK HIM/HER FOR THE GOOD WORK BEING DONE! You may have no idea how valuable that actually is.

Hearing from Whitney, Megan, Kelli, Kim, Xenia, Tiesha, Leslie, Melissa, Jessica, Byrd, Robyn, and all my other dance babies is a gift I never expected, and one I wish now I’d gotten sooner. Knowing that they respected me (even if, as teenagers, they didn’t know how to express it), and that they have remembered me gives me something precious, and brings levity to the memory of a very dark time.

ME! It’s because of me…

PS

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I get a massage almost weekly without exception. I need them. Between working out, dancing, traveling, and life I have to. I don’t have health insurance, so I have to take care of myself with exercise, diet, and massage. I intend to add a bit more cardio to my life, and I am going to (at some point finally) add yoga back in as well. I really cannot recommed enough that you find a massage therapist with a healing touch.

And how can I not share that with someone who needs it? A friend has been in pain. Finally last night I convinced him to go with me. I got mine done, and then he laid on the table after me. It was so gratifying to see the changes in his body taking place as Ron worked the knots, kinks, locks, blocks, and regrets out of my friend’s back, legs, arms, neck, and feet. I felt like I’d done a double-session, just by watching the second hour. I was surprised at how nice it was just to watch the process that I find so healing.

Today my friend is smiling, breathing, laughing… He always does this, of course; however, today he is doing it with a levity of spirit. And that is really amazing. Both because he feels better, but because I do too. I really enjoyed doing this for him, and I hope I can keep tripping over little ways to give back to the people who feed my spirit.

I have to confess I’m a tad overwhelmed by the volume of private responses I have received concerning “Randy and Matt, or: The cycle of guilt and cowardice.” But more than that, I am particularly moved by the empathy and compassion so many of you have expressed in emails. I want to take a moment to tell all of you that this means very much to me, and I am sopping up your kindness and feeding my soul with it. I got an in-box full of Love Gravy!! Pass me them biscuits, boy!

I also want you to know that I am feeling better. Some of you expressed some concerns, and I definitely didn’t mean to alarm any of you. I don’t want to go into much detail right now, because it gets so complicated and confusing as the situation evolves, but let me say this: Matt and I spoke for 3 1/2 hours last night. A great deal was revealed, and it is yet another example of how my life is sometimes a Sit-Com writer’s wet dream come true… The comedy of errors I’m capable of is pretty staggering at times.

But that’s what happens when I feel compelled to fill in blanks where communication should be doing it for me. I will say more later, but for now I want to address two readers in particular:

(From J.N.)
“…The moment of clarity that comes with ‘I have met the enemy and it is I’ is earth shattering. But, at the same time, it can be an extraordinarily liberating feeling precisely because it DOES allow you an opportunity to break a cycle (or cycles for that matter).

“…while the gallon of arsenic Randy fed you over years is on a completely different order of magnitude to the ounce of arsenic you have given to Matt, it does not change the fact that you are giving him arsenic. Again, this does not negate what Randy did. It does not excuse it. It does not undo it. BUT, I think it does mean that we kid ourselves if we think we cannot and do not warp ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’”

J.N. - You are exactly right. I wonder if, on some level, the magic mirror cracks in the fairy tales because of the wicked queen’s finally seeing herself as she is? And while I am not ready to explain yet what I mean by it, I am completely relieved to find out that Matt did not think I was doing anything that I feared I was. However, (for argument’s sake) let’s say I was, in fact, feeding Matt poison: I do not regret the miscommunication, because I have had the revelation you mentioned. Cycles can be broken. I am glad Matt doesn’t feel poisoned, but I am even gladder that I know to make sure I don’t start.

(from Clint)
“…I was going to talk about how each one of your blogs that I’ve read have affected me, or changed my perspective. But, really, I’m sending this email more as a thanks. Remember that even on your darkest days, when you blog, you have several people that learn something about themselves. And on your good days, you have several people who celebrate with you.”

Clint - In your email (which I have grossly abbreviated here, I’m sorry) you said you believe that if you “Give to the world the best you can, the best will come back to you.” I cannot stress enough that this (although much more eloquent than what I have written) is the foundation of almost everything I want. A reader named J.C. asked me what I want from my interactions with people, and I eventually said “honesty.” But I need to amend this, so that it includes your words as well: I want honesty, but I want to remember (as much as possible) that, even when I don’t like what I learn, if someone gives me honesty, I have to accept it as the best that person can give me, and I have to give it back to him/her in the spirit of appreciation.

Thank you, all of you, for your kindnesses. Some will regard it as weakness or soppy emotional quibble/piddle/drivel; however, never doubt that giving the best you have rewards EVERYONE in the long run. Ripples in the pond, Clint, ripples in the pond!

(fade up to Star Wars theme song by John Williams)

Okay, sorry for the overly dramatic beginning. Well, my roommate got my car started, and all the electrical bugs got fixed, but the Miata ended up costing me $500 more anyway: The rear brake calipers started leaking, and they sprayed brake fluid all over the brake pads… Long story short: Had to get new brake pads (which were more than 50% worn anyway, so no biggie - they would have needed replacing anyway soon), but I also had to get new brake calipers. But the car drives like a dream again. Just have to figure out where the water is coming from that is flooding the floor panel under the passenger seat… HMMMM! Anyway, there you have it.

BUT!!

There is something wonderful to share: While I was getting my brakes fixed I went to lunch. At the table next to me were two of the happiest women I’d seen in a long time. They were having such a good time together. OMG! Their energy was captivating. They were laughing deep in their bellies, and it was like listening to music. They had beautifully braided hair, and their dresses were covered in colorful African (or African inspired) designs. Their bangled jewelry clinked like little bells every time they’d throw their hands up in hysterics. They were so happy!

“I’m sorry to interrupt you.”

“Yes?” one said with a delightful glitter in her saucy eyes.

“I’ve been having a rough time lately, and, although I’m not listening to your conversation, I can’t help but overhear how happy you both are. I just wanted to tell you that I feel better for having heard real friendship next to me.”

“AWWW! That is so sweet! And you know what, baby? Whatever is getting you down… It’ll pass.”

“I think it just did.”

Now… time to go pack some boxes, so I can start moving into the new home I’ve found for me and Sméagol. He’s playing in the tape and cardboard: He’s always so happy to see all the new places to hide and ambush me from. His collar jingles as he’s playing, and it reminds me of the laughter of the two friends.

I feel good.

No real depth to this entry; however, there is something to be said for levity and brevity, n’est-ce pas? Although it was a sparse weekend in Atlanta, I had a really good time. Something made me feel really alive while I was dancing, and I think that this “something” was the realization that, come what may, I am doing what I enjoy.

Suddenly it didn’t matter that the crowds were thin. I let go of being tired. I was able to not feel sad that I was missing “my” bed/shower in D.C. There was my body, my sense of humor, and the music. And that was enough.

I had a great time, and I met my weekly goal. What else is there to demand of life? I got to see my friend Chris, and I enjoyed the company of (most of) the other dancers. I met a wonderful girl named Jen who comes to the club with her sweet gay roommate, and I got to do pushups and abs with Preston in the VIP lounge. I also found out I can get health insurance of some kind at a discounted rate through an arrangement between Swinging Richards and Afleck (sp?). So… there you have it.

I’m about to go get a massage.