I recently went to Israel for the wedding of the son of my beloved, beloved childhood next-door neighbor. In addition, I was planning to spend time with my daughter who lives in Israel as well. We had the most amazing plan. Someone was lending me their car. Someone was picking me up from the airport. It seemed like it was going to be the perfect trip.
At some point on the second day, something went wrong. I got severe pains in my leg. Apparently, I had an inflammation of my tendons or some other type of problem in my back. We're still figuring it out. I never made it to the wedding, my time with my daughter was compromised, and I ended up flat on my back at my sister’s house. There are so many parts of the story that were hard, sad, painful, and stupid. I am choosing to talk about what was beautiful and amazing.
Friends came to pick me up and drove me to places. My two sisters took care of me with love, affection, patience, and attention like only the best of sisters can. By the way, it’s not a given that my sisters did what we think sisters should do. They were seriously extraordinary. My child wheeled me around the emergency room from x-ray to x-ray. I cried a lot, but the humor was not lost on me, and I tried to laugh at myself as well. Most of all, I learned an important lesson about pain. How to manage it. How to allow people to help me. And just accept what happened to me.
“Ms., I have so many layers of pain and trauma, I never know when one thing or another will pop up and hurt like a motherfucker and take me off balance. You feel me?”
She actually had no idea how clearly I “feel” her. “Well,” I say, “We all have stuff. We all carry pain. You need to choose when you actually have to share your pain and/or respect the pain and step back quietly.”
“I don’t understand,” she says to me.
“Well,” I pause because I didn’t want to share it, but I decided I needed to. “Do you see how I am sitting in this chair? Have you ever seen me sitting and teaching?“
“Nope,” she says.
“Well, I hurt my leg and back while I was away. I can’t really stand for too long at a time. I chose to come today and teach even though I am in pain. I also chose not to say anything and just sit and teach you. I’m okay. It’s painful, but tolerable.”
This beautiful student of mine stood up and looked at me. “Ms., what the hell is wrong with you? Why wouldn’t you tell us you are hurt? We give you our pain every week and you ain’t sharing with us?” She was pissed.
“I wasn’t hiding anything,” I said. “I just didn’t think I had to share.”
“That’s fucked up!” she said.
“No, actually, that’s a choice I made and that is life,” I tell her. “We are all incredibly fragile; our bodies hurt, our hearts hurt, who knows what else might be hurting someone at any given moment? Everyone has stuff going on. That’s what we need to remember. We need to be kind and patient with people even when it’s hard and they piss us off. And here is the thing, if you have pain that is really hard for you, you have to tell people around you what is going on with you, because honestly, no one really knows and no one can tell if you don’t say something.”
My student sat down with a sigh. She said, “Ms., no one gives a fuck about my pain.”
“You don’t know that,” I say.
“They think I deserve it ‘cause of the lifestyle I lived,” she says.
“Maybe,” I say. “But there are people who will care, and it will make a difference to them. Also, you should not carry your pain alone.”
Someone from the other side of the room asked, “Why did you do that then?”
I quickly said, “’Cause I am stupid.” They all laughed.
I added, “You are right. I should have said something when I came in.”
“You thought we wouldn’t notice that you were sitting. Right, Ms.?” He laughed.
“I didn’t think it really mattered,” I answered
“Girl, everything matters,” someone said.
“You are right,” I say.
I dare anyone to tell me that my beloved, beautiful students are not kind, sensitive, and attentive. I dare anyone to tell me that because someone made a mistake in his or her life, they cannot be caring, beautiful people. I dare anyone to tell me that someone who did time is not worthy of our time. So help me God, I will come at them with a vengeance.
Life is incredibly fragile, difficult, and complicated. What I know to be true is that my students who come from the toughest and roughest of lives are the most gentle and caring humans I know. They might have done things that caused them to be locked up, but most of them had horrible things done to them.
WeWe continued to talk and class was over. Everyone left and one stayed behind. If you saw this man in the street, there is a good chance you would cross to the other side, just because of his bald head and tattoos.
“Ms., I hurt my back once. It is a bitch. Let me carry your bag to your car. You shouldn’t carry that.” I looked at him and I started to cry.
“Lol, Ms., even the baddest of asses need to sometimes rest.”
“You think I am a badass?”
“You? The bad-est”! He took my bag and my hand and walked me to my car. At the car, I gave him a long hug.
I said, “You are the sweetest and kindest man.” He looked at me and teared up a little.
“Sweet is not something anyone ever called me, Ms.”
“You are THE sweetest.” I laugh.
He laughs, too. “Bad ass boss lady and sweet ex-con, that should be a movie.”
“No,” I say, “That’s life.”
I give him another hug and get into the car, hurting a little less, loving a lot more.
