Leaving People Behind

Kids are dropping out of high school. That’s nothing new. What is new is the realization that drop outs do not fit a standard bill. They are from all walks of life, economic backgrounds, beauty standards, and intelligence levels.

Drop outs are people who quit their education. They are also quitting their life.

I lived throughout junior and senior high school in fear of being bullied. Because I was a nerd. And a sissy. And growing all too aware of my sexual orientation. Yes; I was gay, a homo in those days. And I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't want the bulls eye painted on my chest or back. To be targeted as the weirdo. The misfit.

So I studied. I made a virtue out of nerd-dom. I got mostly straight A’s. I threw the grading curve for a loop and lost popularity because of it. Popularity? When was I ever popular?

I had friends. I sense they were the guys that were afraid they too would be a target of bullying if they let down their guard but befriended me because they knew what I feared. The same thing they feared. The girls, on the other hand, liked my being a nerd apparently. And they would ask for academic help from time to time and then slap down their boyfriends if they took a step toward me. Yes. I had protectors in a group of girls who were very much not like me. But I appreciated the attention they did afford me. It was not physical. It was not sexual. It was emotional, though.

That’s my story. It is but one story among millions. Each kid has his own saga of terror – the imagined angst of youth growing up not well, not wanted, not right. For some it is immigrant status in which the greater society casts a downward sneer on the foreign newcomer to our midst. I've never understood.  America is the land of immigrants. We all came from somewhere else at some point in our family tree. We all melted into this stew pot of social order and made a nation from it. Fresh meat or leftovers, the stew became tasty, even zesty! Strong flavors and nutrient rich. A diverse mix for a strong result. An amalgam that yields to an alloy of potential.

The physically unfit, or unattractive. They carry a load that pulls them down from their capability.

People left behind. Kids who drop out. Kids who give up on themselves. Are they lazy? Are they stupid? Are they emotionally stunted? What are their capabilities?

That remains to be tested and developed. Mentors help. People who care enough to talk and listen to these kids. These young adults. Maybe listening restores some personal power they lacked before? Can we help them see a future that bristles with possibilities if they only try? Will they do this if we lend them a hand? Or a shoulder? Can we help reverse this tide of defeatism that will surely cripple our nation if we let it go on?

There are people all around us who could use a warm shoulder and an open ear. They will learn about possibilities from us. They will strengthen language skills. Logic and math skills, too. Social skills are teachable. Confidence, too. Beauty, no; except the eye of the beholder part which is beauty enough in my book.

Once I sat in college choir rehearsal. This ungainly kid in the back row was asked to form a note and vowel. By himself. At first a warbly uneven tone; then a purer one was pulled from him by the director; surprising the director and other singers alike. This kid’s singing voice was a jewel in need of a little training. And confidence.

That experience changed the choir. Each singer realized they could do better. And our tone and effort improved much.

That kid was me. All it took was a shove. By someone who cared. And the result was noticed.

That, too, was a jewel recognized amid the crowd. One among many.

Who can you help uncover their promise?

May 23, 2014