Many of my days I have no recourse but to take on the forces of darkness: self-absorbed people who care only about privileging themselves and their circle of sycophants at the expense of the vulnerable: students.
I fight the good fight—but it’s tiring.
And today, driving to work I felt weepy—that feeling where, if anyone looks at me cockeyed —the tears would start leaking out the corners, edges, of my eyes, like baking a blintze too long and cheese oozing out…
I had a choice to make. Stand up for a friend who had been wronged—but it was a year and a half ago…or just keep my head down and not enter the fray. Could I sit in a meeting with a wordstorm swirling around me, burrow down into my IPad, and ignore the spectacle of rewards being heaped on a man who had behaved abominably?
It certainly would be much easier to distance myself. I have done it once or twice—gotten into a book and ignored the fact the forces of darkness were trying to sell students’ education to the nearest charlatan. History, philosophy, art, literature, nah, students don’t need it- let’s just train people to operate machines without thinking. It’s great for my heart to disengage—not so much for my soul.
But today, to mentally check out and let evil be rewarded? Could I forget a friend who was wronged, hurt, made miserable? Really, I suppose there wasn’t much choice. Time has passed, it’s true. But “scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.” People must be held accountable.
In the end, of course, I put on my breastplate, picked up my spear, and went into battle.
Today gratitude seemed to take a right turn at Pluto.
I was most grateful for myself.
