As I set foot on new areas of the country, I meet up with people from my past. People that I may have never even talked to like people I met in Indy, but people that I immediately bond with because of life experiences. Life experiences that include being watched 24/7 never even having the privilege/ability to shower in peace, to shave with a razor, to talk to the male gender, to wear anything but an ankle length skirt and a shirt that covered your collarbone. Many had the privilege to experience the quiet room. A room with a bed and pillow with no sheets, a container of water, and a Bible. The room had a toilet, a shower with no curtain and a broken mirror. A mirror just invited those of the self-mutilation tendency to slash up their entire body given the circumstances. Something really draws me to these people. Is it my tumultuous past? Is it my wandering present? My desire to help those who are struggling as I struggle myself.
It's really mind-boggling to me. Several months ago I visited an acquaintance from ITC, someone who I even lived with. She was a pot-smoking dancer/prostitute with no aspirations and seemingly not a care in the world. I spent the evening with her and her best friend, a previous jail bird for robbing and shooting people. They jumped from house to house smoking up with their friends. We ended the night at the house of my acquaintance's boyfriend who she seemingly hated. This was an interesting evening that ended at about 6 AM with a game of dice. I didn't really think much of this evening except that I spent the night in the ghetto with people that never would have given a whitey the time of day had I not known someone that was in their clique. I had fun, but nothing drew me to make this girl's life any better.
About two weeks ago, I met up with another person from ITC. I had never even talked to her while at the training center. I had briefly spoken to her years back and we decided that we should meet up one day, but those words are always exchanged with others and generally a person will not follow through with this. I had gotten in contact with her on the day that I happen to be in her town. After some texting and such, I didn't think I would get to meet up with her, but she invited me to a party that was going to be put on by her bf and his friends. I talked to her some at the party and really saw a girl that had been through a lot that was putting on her plastic face like the majority of us trying to make everyone believe that she was happy. I talked to her superficially at the party and some at her bf's house after the party. For some reason, something really drew me to her. I really wanted to help her. I talked to her a little over text and she opened up to me a little and then she completely shut me down. She just dropped off and never texted me again. This bothered me for several days. I understand why a person would want to just shut out someone that was willing to help them. Naturally, if you don't want to be vulnerable to your 'friends' you aren't going to want to be open with someone you barely know. It's easier to just keep on that plastic face. This experience taught me two lessons. I learned some about being comfortable in your own skin as I so often am not. I get critical of other people over the things they have fun doing, the way they dress or whatever else I happen to be thinking at the current time. I still have a lot to learn about being completely real. I view myself as one of the most straight forward, honest people I know, but we all have our secrets. We all have our insecurities, our questions that we are too afraid to ask. The other lesson I learned is about why I want to help people. In general, I want people to be happy. I don't want anyone to be sad, but it's not selfless because whether I like it or not, I pick and choose the people I talk to, the people that I try to make happy. This girl I met up with was a white attractive girl in her 20s. She seemed like a typical college student, but she wasn't. She was headed down a pretty bad road with no end in sight. If I had the same mentality about everyone, I'd be giving money to every crack head that begged from me. Instead, I get my dogs and I lock my doors politely giving this beggar the finger under the guise of saying I don't carry any money on me. Some may say I don't want to help these people because I feel threatened, but what if the terror factor didn't exist? Maybe the next thought would be..well it's their own fault that they are in this situation and I manage to work for my own money; why can't they work for theirs? Maybe they just need a kind word. They have plenty of people telling them to screw themselves or telling them to get a job. What would it take for me to want to help these people? A pretty face. Someone I can relate with. I didn't come from trash. I have a hard time relating to trash. I live on the fringes, but I definitely have my limits. My motives aren't completely selfless to help a friend from Indy. Maybe it comes down to attractiveness. Maybe it comes down to genetics. I'm obviously closer related to a white person than a Black, Asian, or Spanish person. In practice, I don't really think about this, but I spent a lot of time trying to figure out why I wanted to help this girl so much and at the same time not giving a second thought to the other girl that I had met up with from Indy. Was it her impending jail sentence that inspired me to help her? Was it the relate-ability of our past? It certainly wasn't the relate-ability of our current situation. When you break things down, you really have to question your motives. Selfless or selfish?
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