Sunday, August 17, 2014

Memories of grade school: Bartender at the student bar.

This one (mixed race) bartender at the student bar and I were talking the other week – he was hanging out there either after shift or on his off day – and somehow we began talking about slurs, and then segued into memories of youth.

When he was a kid, he was in Catholic school in a rust belt city in Ohio, and his father had this weird disease that his family just found out about and were grappling with.

He was still trying to figure out how to tell his friends, but that day at school, at the end of announcements, they mentioned his family as part of prayer intentions for the week.

He hadn’t said anything and neither had his family, but someone had heard and just put them on there, and suddenly everyone knew and everyone in the school all got told without his permission being asked at all.

He just shot up out of his desk and ran out of the classroom and down the hall off of the schoolgrounds, and after a teacher got in a car and finally caught up to him, they said he ran like a mile-and-half full sprint, and he told me he was dodging down alleys and everything, just trying to get away where no-one could find him, though he says in retrospect that it probably was less than a mile-and-a-half that he ran.


He never got in trouble for that, and his dad turned out to be fine.

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