Being Strong and Getting There

I don't remember when I first started championing the little guy, but I didn't realize I was doing such a thing until I was 17 years old. I went away for a school weekend leadership retreat thing and there were all kinds of surprises and activities. One of the surprises was that our families wrote us all notes. Of course, they were the typical mushy kind of letters. "We're so proud" kind of letters.

The truly surprising one was from my grandmother on my mom's side. She mentioned how I always argued for the little guy. She was proud I guess that for some inexplicable reason I always defended the other point of view. In my head, I always was just saying my point of view. The right point of view, might I add. But, she was right. In an argument, I will usually defend the person who is either incapable of defending themselves or ill equipped.

We should be for welfare. We should be for health care for everyone. We should be for charity. We should be for those things which can help those who need help. And yes, there will be those who take advantage of these things, but as I have gotten older, I have come to notice there have been those who are very fortunate who also take advantage of perks and tax shelters, and free tickets to shows or sporting events, etc. and etc.

My point (and I do have one) is: I argue for those less fortunate because I always considered myself the little guy. I am gay - and growing up when I did - that wasn't necessarily a good thing. I was bullied and teased and taunted and made fun of my entire young life.

I have big ears, so as a child, I was called Dumbo. ( I didn't get the joke. I had seen the movie, but I thought they were calling me fat, which was odd since I was an extremely skinny child.)

I was evidently gay at a very young to most kids except myself. So, the kids in the 7th grade called me, "Grimace." (Again, I didn't and actually STILL don't get the joke. And again, Grimace is kind of a round shaped fella, so should I take it as a sign that maybe everyone did think I was fat?) It was eventually explained to me to stop being happy when the 7th graders came over to high five me and say Grimace.

In high school, L.D. Platt used to pull on the tab on the back of my oxford shirt every day in Freshman Algebra class until one day I cut them all off - much to my mother's complaint. I was tired of being yanked daily, but more importantly, I was tired of Miss Duquette thinking I had epilepsy.

In Study Hall Freshman year, George Sotirion, Marco Milbier, and some other guy picked on me one day so badly that I put my head down on my desk and sobbed loudly. The teacher did nothing - way to go, Teach! And then the kids pitied me. I think they felt a little ashamed. Bobby Jo Murray told them off, I think. But, it didn't really change how they felt or what happened. I wasn't cool and I was the kid who cried in class.

There weren't all bad times. Ned Sullivan, my neighbor and fellow student at St. Matthew School, was two years older than me. He was taller and lanky and took the bus with my sister and I. We all waited at the bus stop every morning. On one particular day, Ned was calling me names, like he did often, and I just lost it. My older sister didn't stick up for me - no surprise there - and I was sick of his crap. So, I wailed on him.

I was a nerd who liked to take all his books home with him. (Especially Social Studies! To this day, I still love Social Studies, and world cultures and history. All of it is awesome, and might I add, they usually are the heavy books!) And a book bag with all these heavy books had made my right arm and shoulder quite strong. Plus, he didn't know what was coming and I was (and still am) a quick attack. I dropped my book bag off my shoulder and swung it right across his face and gave him a nice bloody nose.

Mrs. Sullivan, his mother, gave me lots of finger pointing and yelling. I, however, do not remember ever being punished for it. I was so proud. My sister, on the other hand, told me to shut up when I tried to be happy about it. To hell with her!

I learned a lesson that day. If you speak up or stand up, things may change. Ned never bothered me again. And I always kept a full back pack, just in case.

It wasn't and still isn't an easy lesson to follow. There were lots of days where I was still picked on. Even in college.

My first group of roommates Freshman year once left our dorm room and stacked all the chairs from the study lounge in front of it. They also wrote some unkind things about me and where my father worked on the dry erase board. They didn't like me and they wanted their friend from the football team to be their roommate instead. They had all met weeks before school started, so I was doomed before they met me. Then they met me and they still didn't like me. I threw the chairs down the hallway. Someone else could pick them up. I made a lot of noise. And a few days later, I was out of there. But, it wasn't a fun time.

I disclose all this rather personal stuff because I do think it's helpful. I think there is something to learn by sharing these thoughts and experiences.

And with that spirit, I am making a list:

1. Fuck 'em! (I know - I don't like to curse on this blog usually, but it's the best word for the job.)  If you meet a jerk in life, don't let them stop you from being you or doing what you want to do. It has been the overarching theme of my life. I have lived my life - my way - and anyone else can be damned. My life isn't necessarily the most amazing, but it's been mine and no one else's. And I wouldn't have it any other way. So, fuck 'em!

2. Be you. Yes, your humor may be quirky, you may smell, and you may believe that the moon god Zorba is the savior for us all. Who cares? As long as you are being yourself, then it is truthful. Being true to yourself and how you think and believe is all that matters in life. It is the one thing in life we can afford. I cannot stand people who aren't true to themselves and just follow along. I definitely stand out at times in certain social circles and sometimes I am embarrassed afterwards. But, I have only regretted the times I didn't say what I knew in my heart to be true. And with that - the Zorba religion thing is really expensive, so you've been warned.

3. Speak Loudly and Carry a Big Stick. I don't mean a book bag full of heavy 6th grade reading material. I mean, self confidence. Believe in yourself. Believe in your heart. You will find that a confident voice directly confronting someone who is a negative force to you will have some impact on the situation. I don't go after just any situation. To be honest, I still try to avoid the situations where people are just saying nasty or rude things just to get a rise out of me. I don't understand why people say things that they know will just make the other person uncomfortable. Those things are not worth my time or their time either for that matter. But, if someone comes after me directly, you better believe I've learned to stand up for myself.

These small things are BIG things. They aren't easy. I had to learn this over many years. It didn't come naturally to me. My parents raised me to be far too polite. FAR too polite. I didn't really have someone who did the standing up for me kind of thing. I learned over time that the only person in my life who was going to be standing up and speaking out was going to have to be me. And sometimes in life you just can't be the "nice" guy. The "nice" guy can get his oxford shirt yanked.

I'm not saying you do the yanking. I'm saying you be you. Speak up. Say when something isn't ok. I don't like the way you are talking to me. I don't like the way you are treating me. It's not right. It's not good.

Stand up for the little guy. Stand up for yourself.