Reply #44: Weird

[orwell]

I had a similar experience with a different ending.

I went to a Catholic grammar school and a Jesuit High school in San Francisco, both very elite. I was a poor kid who got in with scholarships.

I was tall, athletic AND geeky.

In grammar school, I once got the shit kicked out of me by the class bully because I insisted that the stuttering kid be allowed his turn at bat in a meaningless lunchtime softball game.

You see, everyone mistook his stuttering for some kind of mental deficiency. I probably thought the same thing. But I thought that whatever his problem was, he was a human being with feelings who deserved respect. Two black eyes and a bloody nose later I still felt that way.

He got his turn at bat. He struck out. We lost.

When I returned to class the nun took one look at me and sent me to the school nurse. When asked what happened, I told her I slid into home plate wrong and banged my face. She knew I was lying but there was nothing she could do about it.

After school, the kid who beat me up asked me what I said. I told him I protected his identity because I felt the "problem" was between him and me. I'll never forget the look on his face. He walked away stunned.

Close to 20 years later, I saw him at a class reunion. He greeted me like we were old friends. He brought up the time he kicked my butt and we both laughed. He then told me something I will never forget. He told me that he was ashamed of what he had done.

Here's another twist to the story. I saw the kid that I "defended" in a high school play at another "enemy" Catholic High School, Riordan in San Francisco. He was a tremendous actor with a beautiful voice and magnificent stage presence. When I saw his name in the program I was stunned.

After the play I went backstage to say hi. I hadn't seen him in years. He immediately remembered me and thanked me for getting my ass kicked on his behalf so many years ago. We both laughed.

He told me that doctors had determined that the reason he stuttered was that his mind worked too fast for his mouth to articulate words properly. As he matured the "problem" went away. He was doing well in school and he looked forward to a creative future.

The morals of this story have always stayed with me.

Might never makes right.
You can never predict the consequences of seemingly small actions.
Appearances are deceiving.
Fear lasts a moment, grace a lifetime.
The wheels of karma always come full circle, whether we see it or not.

In the end...
Treat others as you wish to be treated, whether you think they "deserve it" or not.
Try to do the right thing every day, no matter how hard it seems.

Nobody can take my humanity from me but me.

Thanks for triggering some good memories Skinner. Peace right back at ya.