Air

I left my house to get some air. As I was walking, I bumped into a friend who also needed some air… Air from the things we thought we did right but got so wrong, air from the people who we care the most about, people who can make us feel the worst about ourselves and our choices in life, air to remind yourself that good and hard can live together and that we can be really good at our jobs yet at the same time struggle in our lives.

My friend and I cried. We listened. We dreamed about the future. Most of all we reminded each other that we are not alone. I love this friend to no end. This friend is kind and warm. They are wise and incredibly insightful. This is someone I would spend an abundance of time with. Sadly, that is not a luxury either of us have.

The last few weeks I have had multiple conversations with people who are struggling. What has struck me the most about these conversations is how much our struggles are the same and how isolated we all feel in our struggle.  

“Ms., my daughter hates me. I know I wasn’t there for years, being locked up and all, but now I am back and she is fucking punishing me for everything I didn’t do and everything I do do. It’s just too hard. Ms., sometimes I think it would be better if I was back inside. At least there I got respect!” she said, exasperated.

“Girl, don’t be an ass,” one student said. “Nothing is worth going back!” Then a man from the back of the class said, “That ain't true. Plenty of stuff out here is harder than we thought it would be. Sometimes it feels like being back inside could be better.”

“That is bullshit! Who would ever want to go back to that shit?”

“Hold on,” I say. “No judgment. Everyone can feel what they need and want to feel. It doesn’t mean they are doing it. You can feel something, maybe even want something really bad. That does not mean you are going to do it.”

I think of my dear friend who I met on the walk to get air. Upon sharing something with her and telling her how upset I was about it she said to me, “You did the best you could. You did the best you knew how” and that I need to figure out how to negotiate the distance between what I thought would be and what is.

My student was locked up for a long time. She missed most of her kid’s childhood. When she got out they were entering adolescence. Adolescence is a trying time for any parent, even if you were NOT locked up.  

“I had so many dreams about how it would be being with my kids,” she said.

I didn’t mean to, but I laughed out loud. “Oh, Sweetie,” I said. “We all did!”I shared with them that I think we all have a space between our dreams and reality. 

“Nope, Ms. Some motherfuckers have the dream in their reality.”

I laugh again, and I answer, “That might be true. Some people do.” I shared with them that I am learning that everyone has stuff. Everyone carries disappointment. Many people think they will be or have one thing and then they get something different. “Lots of people struggle with the same things. We just don’t talk about it with each other. People keep their pain to themselves, quietly.”

“Why the fuck don’t people just share their shit?” someone asks.

“’Cause shit stinks,” someone answers. Everyone laughs.

“Well, it’s time people air out the shit,” someone said, and added, “So, we all can calm the fuck down.”

“Yes,” I said, “Air is good.”

Air things out.

Air to breath.

Air to be.

Air to get perspective.

Air to rearrange our expectations.

Air. Period.

“Do you think my kids will get me?” she asked.

“I think they will, and they will not. It will be what you want and totally what you don’t want. Kids and life are like that,” I tell her.

“It’s like the air,” someone said. “It comes, it goes, and it doesn’t ask no one permission to blow all over the place. All we can do is take it in.” 

I add, “We can take it in. We can use it to clear our head and we can let it take us to places we need to go.” I add, “We cannot change the past or the things we did. We can refresh our thoughts. Take in some fresh air and readjust.”

Someone who doesn’t speak often raised his hand. “Ms., you ever see those balloons that people fly? Those motherfuckers fill up with air and fly all over the fucking place. They fly just with the air. You ever see that?” 

“I have,” I said. “Yes, they can fly with air. It is extraordinary.” 

“Well, I’m gonna let air take me wherever I got to go. Just like those fucker balloons.”

On my drive home it is windy. I think of air. It is invisible. You can’t see it but it can move mountains. I think about the things I need to move in my life. And I try to summon the wind and air to help me do what I know I need to do.