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| stolen moments |
| 06.04.05 (11:02 pm) [edit] |
|
posted by: BerlinBear (reply)
post date: 06.04.05 (3:50 pm)
This has never happened before, on two counts. 1) I am the first commenter and 2) I can make something of this, and identify. Rather makes up for my poor performance below. *phew*
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (2:11 am)
Stolen Moments..
Isn't funny (and in this case, I mean funny as in horrifying/sad) just how many people seem to believe that one person's love comes at the expense of another??
I worry about the world.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:51 am)
Note: The following may or may not be true. Further, if in fact true, no names have been changed to protect the innocent.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:52 am)
When the time came for 8th graders at St. Mike’s Catholic School to embark on the greatly anticipated “sex education” unit, Mr. Heinz – the portly science teacher – came upon a brilliant idea. Since the boys and girls could not, practically, be separated into different classes, he decided that, creating a physical and mental division between genders, within the classroom itself, was the healthiest course of action. And so, like Moses, he raised his hands and the sea was parted: Boys on the right ~ girls on the left. Even the desks were turned to help foster the “us vs. them” atmosphere… and soon the young adolescents were ready to learn everything they could possibly want to know about their bodies, human reproduction and other giggle-worthy topics, (but as plaidly clad Catholics, were truly too afraid to ask).
Many lessons from the unit began to standout as future stories to be told at class reunions or to one’s therapist. When it came to discussing human anatomy, Mr. Heinz was especially clever. He’d take out his trusty retractable pointer and jab its end into the various bit and pieces of either the male or the female body - while managing to stare directly into the soul of each individual student of the *opposite* gender.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:52 am)
Mr Heinz would gawk long and hard at the girls as they huddled on their side of the room in fear. Whap! His pointer would smack against the diagram of the naked male body. “And this girls,” he would say staring them down… daring them to shift in their seats daring them to giggle, daring them to blink, daring them to breathe, “this is the………….. urethra!” This, of course, would be followed by an eternity of silence until he decided to either point out some other part of the body that was, in his estimation, both jab and pause worthy, or to simply turn his attention to the boys for a moment.
Whether enduring the human anatomy according to Heinz or being subjected to films in which happy Swedish couples ran, hand in hand, into the ocean – only to emerge pregnant, it was clear to everyone involved that no one had ever received a finer education on the topic of human sexuality than this group of 8th graders.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:52 am)
Weeks passed and finally the end of the unit arrived.
On the day before the big test, students shuffled into class, as usual, only to find that Father Michael Ryan was doubling as their teacher that day. (Mr. Heinz had been rushed to the hospital a few days earlier, but that’s a different story). Father Ryan, as he was called, was everyone’s favorite: He was young and handsome and spoke like a normal human being. (He’d play basketball with groups of students after school and sometimes used the word “damn” when not quoting the bible. Naturally, he was adored). Like bees passing from flower to flower so too did their smiles flit from one student to the next upon the realization that he was teaching class.
Sitting on the stool in the front of the room, Father Ryan asked the students what they had learned. Obediently, they all took out their notebooks and regaled him with the facts and figures of sex education. But as the talk continued, all the things that had been held back before seemed to come out as well: the suppressed giggles, the questions, the jokes, the disgust, the embarrassment, the disappointment. (It was like confession minus the beads and velvet lined box).
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:53 am)
Finally, Father Ryan asked them what they had learned about homosexuality.
The room was silent.
“How many of you are there in this room?” he asked.
A quick count: about 30.
He then went on to talk about statistics and percentages. The bottom line: if those things could be applied directly to the class population then three students in that room would be gay. Were gay.
More silence as little eyes scanned the room. Who would it be? Speculation revealed itself in many faces. Others cowered in the realization that gay or not, they’d be labeled as “one of the three” for the rest of their lives.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:53 am)
Finally, Father Ryan broke the silence by telling the story of a young boy, a little older than them, perhaps, but not much, who knew he was gay and who struggled to tell his parents. In the story, the boy tested the waters by asking his parents how they felt about homosexuality. To his surprise, both his mother and father adopted a “to each his own” attitude. As his confidence began to build, he wrote them a letter explaining himself. When he wrote it, according to Father Ryan, he knew he would never send it. The letter was a trial run of sorts, a means to practice getting the words out: I’m gay. In the end, however, the boy was never able to confess himself. His parents found the letter and reacted quite violently. Eventually, he left their home and never returned.
Talk then turned to how the students would react if their best friend simply turned to them and said “I’m gay.” What about their cousin? Their brother? Sister? Future child? The students clustered into small groups and worked out first what they thought they *would* do in such a situation and then what they thought they *should* do. In most groups, the answers to these questions were strikingly different.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:53 am)
Father Ryan listened to all the theories and postulations. Then he wrote a bible verse on the board:
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.” -- Corinthians 13:7-8
~~~~~~~~~
The next week, Father Ryan was transferred to another parish. A parish without a school.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:53 am)
The end :)
posted by: TheJongleur (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:05 pm)
Reply to: BerlinBear
1) Good timing, sir.
2) I'm delighted you can make something of it.
Cheers for talking to me a little.
posted by: TheJongleur (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (3:07 pm)
Reply to: juniperflux
And it's all caught up in that one line.
You know I'm all about the line.
I love it.
posted by: lindy (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (9:31 pm)
Reply to: BerlinBear
I wonder if you see me as clearly as I see you in this moment... curious.
*shakes head
posted by: lindy (reply)
post date: 06.05.05 (9:33 pm)
I wish I looked as lovely as your little moon people. They see through the alphabet. And eat all the A's first.
posted by: BerlinBear (reply)
post date: 06.06.05 (12:09 am)
Reply to: lindy
I doubt it.
posted by: lindy (reply)
post date: 06.06.05 (7:01 am)
Reply to: BerlinBear
:)))))))))