~Eric Reid: Why Colin Kaepernick and I Decided to Take a Knee~
RESPECTFUL GESTURE
Sept. 25, 2017
In early 2016, I began paying attention to reports about the incredible number of unarmed black people being killed by the police. The posts on social media deeply disturbed me, but one in particular brought me to tears: the killing of Alton Sterling in my hometown Baton Rouge, La. This could have happened to any of my family members who still live in the area. I felt furious, hurt and hopeless. I wanted to do something, but didn’t know what or how to do it. All I knew for sure is that I wanted it to be as respectful as possible.
A few weeks later, during preseason, my teammate Colin Kaepernick chose to sit on the bench during the national anthem to protest police brutality. To be honest, I didn’t notice at the…
His goal was to get away from her and his first strategy was to force a psychiatrist to commit him.
Bobby writes:
“One day I found a book called, “By Reason of Insanity.
It was all about this guy who goes crazy and stabs his wife 47 times with
a butcher knife..
He gets sent to the loony bin.
Most of the book was about the people he meets in the hospital.
Some of the people scream and see things that ain’t there.
But the hospital also had food and a school.
I thought hell, check it out!
I got Momma to take me to see a shrink.
The psychiatrist Momma took looked like Mr. Spock from “Star Trek”:
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me about yourself, bobby.”
“Yeh–I think I’m queer.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Well–” I looked up at him and said, “I think about boys when I-you know.”
That got me sent up.
The shrink told Momma that I needed to go to the state hospital for “observation.”
I got all excited since that seemed almost as good as going to New York.
***
The hospital had a place for kids.
It was a tall red brick building with locks on every door.
When Momma an’ me got there, Momma suddenly got very polite, and she gave me permission to smoke.
When the doctor came to meet us, she acted all scared, like she was talking to Grandma.
“Ya’all treat my baby good!” she cried.
Then she called me darling, and left.
***
This hospital was nothing like the one in my book.
It was all shiny inside and Muzac played all day long through little loudspeakers in the ceiling.
Everyone looked numb.
I made friends with this other queer who was a year older than me.
He was a rich kid who went on and on about how he hoped the doctors could turn him straight.
Here I was, fifteen and already out.
I thought this kid was crazy and said so!
“Listen!” I said, “That ain’t never gonna happen. So get over it!”
Well he hauled off and slapped me!
Then he got so upset about slapping me he started to cry.
A nurse came over to give him some pills.
She gave me an evil look.
Like I had picked up that boy’s hand and slapped myself!
I thought she’d like me better if she had to give me some pills, so I asked for some.
“Why do you think you need medication, Bobby?”
“I think I’m seein’ people that ain’t really there.”
“Be sure you tell that to your doctor.”
***
“Tell me a little something about your childhood.” the doctor said.
“Well it ain’t over yet!” I said.
“True enough.” he smiled. “Why do you think you’re here?”
“I guess ’cause I’m queer.” I answered. “Howcum you ain’t got no people screamin’ around here?”
He smiled again. “Do you feel like screaming?”
***
That shrink really thought I was crazy.
Now I knew I wasn’t, but I reminded myself that for these folks, queer was the same thing.
When Momma came to visit she always put on the good behavior that she wore for Grandma.
I said, “Momma! These people gonna do some kinda shock treatment on me!”
“They’ll do what they can to make you better.” she said. “I hope you’re smokin’ like I said you could.”
I was in deep water for screwing that rich kid.
A month passed.
“Whut if yew had relations with a man an’ caught the clap in yore mouth?” The social worker asked me one day, like I already had it.
“You can get that from eatin’ pussy!” I said, “Why don’t you people calm down an’ let me go home?”
That rich kid told me all about the therapy the doctors was doing on him.
“First, they strap you inna chair with your weenie hanging out. Then they put glue on it and stick wires to it. Then they show you pictures of hot dudes an’ shock the piss outta you if you so much as sigh!”
Now, Momma had to understand how bad that was!
“Lissen up!” I said at her next visit. “These shrinks is gonna “lectrocute me!”
“They say they only use a lil’ “lectricity, darlin’.”
“And how would you like it if every time you sat onna barstool some one zapped you off?”
Momma got that dark look she always got when she wanted to hit me.
“Have a little respect for your Momma!” She said in a tight but polite tone of voice.
***
“Do you want Bobby to be a hama-sect-ual?” The shrink asked Momma at the treatment meeting.
“He was always a tad girlish, but I have always maintained that it is important for men to be men.
“Let em fry my dick off, ” I said, “see what kind of man I’ll be then!”
“The shrink ignored me.
“I think that Bobby can be cured. These deviant behaviors are not set until adulthood.”
“But I don’t wanna get cured!” I said. “I ain’t got nothin’ to cure!
I glared at Momma.
She sat there like the best little girl in the world.
Then I knew what I had to do.
“Momma! You let this fool shock me an’ I’ll call Grandma and tell her all about you. Every. Thing.”
Momma blushed.
She looked down and twisted her wedding ring.
Then she looked up at the doctor with such wide, innocent looking brown eyes:
“I do want what’s best for Bobby. But it’s such a big decision! I think I should consult with his Father first.”
My best friend Kit was a bit of a twit before he got sick, but
he was brilliant and passionate about gay liberation.
Our friendship was based on mutual geekiness.
Kit tinkered with a Mac or a Tandy while I wrote poetry and
listened to Pattie Smith through my headphones.
He suspected that HIV was sexually transmitted, but at that
time no one was certain.
We both knew many men who had died and even more who were sick.
Kit wanted to know what they had in common.
He questioned a small sampling of men and now he questioned me.
I.V. Drugs?
I hate needles.
Acid?
I hate acid.
Poppers ?
They smell like dirty feet.
Alcohol?
I don’t drink.
Weed?
Yes, please.
Then Kit asked me about sex.
Most of it’s icky, I replied.
Kit turned the computer around and showed me a bell curve.
It peaked in the late 1980s and declined in the 1990’s.
Kit said that what looked like new infections were actually
old ones that had advanced to end stage AIDS.
He explained that the virus had already infected most of the men in our age group who were going to die and that as they died the cases in our age group would drop.
Kit said that I would live and he would die.
Two years later Kit was diagnosed with AIDS and two years after that he died.
Kit took his own life when AIDS took his eyesight.
#IOTD #ImagesOfTheDay #VerySpecialEdition #24 #DearBloggerFriend #HerOwnWords #Concept #Serious #PuertoRico #MyCountry #MiPatria #MyFlag #MiBandera #MyPride #MiOrgullo #AroundTheIsland
