…but half will.

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One of my favorite movies is Teachers with Nick Nolte, Ralph Macchio, a teeny tiny Laura Dern, JoBeth Williams…ah, anyway, a bunch of good actors.  It has one of my favorite set of movie lines ever and is the topic of this evening’s post.  Ralph Macchio’s character has set off the school fire alarm, and the entire high school empties out into the parking lot, thrilled to be out of class, smoking in the parking lot, etc.  Nolte, a teacher, has this exchange with Judd Hirsch, a vice principal (paraphrased):

HIRSCH:  Alex, half those kids won’t come back after the fire alarm.

NOLTE: But half will.  I think they’re worth it.

They are.  They’re all worth it.  Lookit, trust me, there’s a whole lot of teachers and other grown-uppy types out there who were probably certain where my future was, and it sure as hell wasn’t where I ended up (thank God).  I wouldn’t say I was a bad kid, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.  What I do know is this: A small but dedicated group of those grown-uppy types didn’t give up on me.  They were hard sometimes, they lost patience with me, yes, and some of ’em I went out of my way to make miserable.  (Apologies for that, if any of you are out there.) 

But when all was said and done, they said, in effect, “He’s worth it.”  They didn’t have to.  They chose to.  And in about six weeks, my first novel is going to be on the shelves as a result.  I was one of the half that came back.  So were most of my friends.  Where might we be if not for those teachers and leaders who didn’t let us give up on ourselves?  (Not blogging on my author website, for one…)

I can’t take back a lot of the evil, vile crap I did to some of my teachers over the years.  But I can and I will do my best to pick up where they left off.  Fact is, a pretty large percentage of teens only needs one thing: for one adult to stand up, to fight for them, to be there.  Yeah, they’re gonna mess up, make mistakes, pull fire alarms.  That’s what teenagers do.  (And I get to write books about it!) They also care tremendously – about a lot of different things.  They have the time and energy to devote to change things that  a lot of us grown-uppy types don’t.  Or won’t.

This applies equally to adults and teens:  Don’t let anyone ever, ever tell you can’t do something, and don’t ever give up on going after what you want.  Make choices today, even small ones, that will bring you closer to your goals.  Because half the people you know today aren’t coming back after the alarm.  But half will.  The only question is, which group do you belong to?

I think you’re worth it. 

 

a thin scream

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I’ll be honest with ya’ll, it was a rough end to ’09 and ’10 is defining itself as a time in which I’m trying desperately to refill my emotional gas tank, the needle of which hovers over E right now.  But I know one thing.  I know one thing.  I have a reminder of it on every Bauer bag/murse/backpack I’ve carried since about ’93 or ’94.  It’s a crappy yarn-woven bookmark that is useless for that function, so now is merely decoration and a reminder.  It was knitted for me by an older lady I remember only as “Babs” who I met while in intensive day treatment therapy and one lovely evening as an in-patient for a number of psychological problems.

I know one thing that this crappy yarn bookmark reminds me of every time I see it:  I will not ever let myself get so out of control that I need to go back to that hospital.

I’m tired, worn out, stressed, on the virtual brink of being broke; I’ve been a shoulder, a confidante; and I’m out of gas.  But I will never hurt myself again.  Ever.  If I ever thought I was about to, believe me, I wouldn’t hesitate to get the help I needed. But I don’t think that will ever be necessary, because I won’t let it be necessary.  I’ll work it out.  I’ll hit the heavy bag in my garage or scream or cry or play really f’ing loud Social D on my crappy Mexican Fender, but I will not hurt myself.

Nor should you.

Self-injury is not cool, not hip, not wicked-awesome, not anything but a thin bloody scream for help.  Don’t let it get to that point.  This is your only body.  Use it wisely.  Treat it well.  This is your only mind; ditto.  Your only heart; ditto again. I’m not saying ignore any hurt, any stress, any drama.  I’m saying find a good way to deal with it.  Hurting yourself is not going to help, not going to make it go away, and is not something you can take back.  It’s as addictive as any drug.

So please — don’t.  Get help.  A friend, a parent, a teacher, I don’t care, but get it.  You matter to me, and I guarantee you matter to others.

I’m not a licensed anything – not a doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, therapist, or anything else. I’m just a guy who took a mental tumble many years ago and made it back.  So can you.  It does get better.

Hang in there.  Instead of carving Liar, Hopeless, Failure, or anything else into your body, “write love on your arms,” a thousand times if you must.  But don’t give in and don’t give up.

Take care.

~ Tom