When I walked away two and a half years ago, I was already busy sealing up the atomic memories in lead containers to be hidden away in my mental mountains. Having somehow barely managed to survive the experience of eight years within the Carmel-Clay school system, I was by no means willing to relive it.
But alas, I've been forced to do just that in perhaps the most painful fashion: through my younger brother Jeremy.
Having to see him deal with junior high's social Darwinism, draconian conduct code, schoolroom sadists, and tedious busywork assignments has been almost too much to bear.
And I know that it will only get worse before it gets better. Jere has a tough few years ahead of him. The hell should peak sometime during freshman or sophomore year and start to dissipate around junior year (hopefully.)
What's especially important right now is that he either gets involved with a group, develop a hobby or become consumed by a particular interest. The sooner he becomes passionate, the better. And it can be in just about anything as far as I'm concerned -- sports, art, music, religion, school clubs, whatever. If you're not passionate about something then life just is not going to work that well.
He has to ignite the fire inside himself in order to keep from freezing to death. Often it seems like all I can do is keep flinging gasoline on him, hoping that he'll manage to set himself ablaze like the Human Torch so he can start flying above and beyond the tedium of school.
Back when I was his age, one of several passions I had was evangelical Christianity. And one of the buzzword phrases in that subculture was "God-shaped hole" -- the idea that we're all incomplete and need the Judeo-Christian god to fulfill us. Now I kind of half agree --- as is to be expected from someone who's since drifted into a "faith" of mysticism. There is in fact a hole to be filled, however I've found that things other than the Born Again Christian's version of God can fill it.
I'll mark this battle won when Jeremy finds something more interesting than video games to dominate his life. Don't misunderstand me here, I'm not coming down on gaming so much as obsessive gaming. I was a hardcore gamer up until about Jere's age. At that point I found God, writing and film.
See, video games should be thought of as alcohol --- great in social settings, fine in moderation, quite bad when taken to frequent excess.
I think of video games in particular because I've seen plenty of people drop out and slide away from Ball State who just happen to have been gaming addicts. Also, in looking at non-Ball State friends, there's quite a high quotient of early twentysomething gamers living McDonald's paycheck-to-paycheck existences.
And a piece of that is not having something to be passionate about that fulfills and enriches one's life. If one is burning inside then the world's ice daggers will melt upon making contact. With every frustration in the assembly line high school, a mantra can dance to life to offer protection: "This is only temporary. I will get out of here. I have a mission and I will accomplish it in spite of this place. I will succeed."
I know that Jere can do it.
Write to David at
swimminginbrokenglass@gmail.com
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