“THEY” Cripple Society Volume 1: Who are “THEY” and how do they do it? An Expose in True to Life Narrative Exploring Stories of Discrimination. Cleon E. Spencer

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      “He put me on heavier medication,” Gilda replied coolly, “so heavy I couldn’t even think. I did nothing much but sleep for two days.”

      “And?” Owen questioned further.

      “My parents came to see me. I begged them to take me home, and after another two days they did so. It took that long for me to become fully coherent after being taken off the heavy medication.”

      Gilda then turned to Dr. Eldren. “I’m very sorry sir for being so harsh on your colleague in psychiatric practice, but that’s how I felt about him and the whole approach.”

      Dr. Eldren smiled. “You’re entitled to your opinion,” he said. It seemed he wanted to make no more comment on that particular experience, at least for now. He was interested though in hearing the remainder of her experience. “It seems you have somehow survived your ordeal very well. You are here with us now and still going to university. It would be most encouraging, I’m sure, for everyone present to know how you did it, if you will share it with us?”

      “Glad to,” Gilda proceeded again. “Before my parents took me home they talked with the psychiatrist at the hospital. He told them that if they wished, I could go home. He suggested that a period of rest at home might do something for me. Also, unknown to me at the time, he had suggested to them that perhaps university was too much for me and that I should consider a career in some other direction. My parents were good about taking me home. They showed genuine care and affection, and I was so glad to be out of hospital, I felt so free now and relaxed at being home, that my original despair lifted.

      “The next day after arriving home, my mother and father and I were having the evening meal together and we discussed my situation at length. Both parents assured me that I need not continue with university; that they would not be disappointed if I were to look for a career in sales or office work or whatever I chose. My father said he could get me a promising job in his corporation, or, I could be more independent and seek employment elsewhere.”

      Gilda paused in her story telling for a moment of reflection, then spoke again, “you know, you could never imagine the burden that was lifted from me in that discussion with my parents. I didn’t have to go to university in order to retain their respect. I told them I’d sleep on it and think about it. Actually, it was late before I slept that night, because I did much thinking beforehand. I lay there, with my light on. I was looking at the ceiling as though it was the sky. I felt so light and free again. My parents loved me no matter what! No obnoxious teacher would ever again make me feel they didn’t. I felt like a butterfly again - for whom the sky was the limit.”

      “Indeed the sky is the limit I thought to myself again and again, until abruptly another thought penetrated deeply into my mind. The sky is not really the limit if I can’t go to university. I didn’t only go to university to please my parents. I wanted to myself. And if I can’t do what I want to, then I’m back in a cocoon of sorts again. No way, I thought. I mulled it over in my mind some more. For the first time since my grade five days, I was fully conscious now that I didn’t have to do well at studies to retain the respect of my parents, but, and it was a big but - I wanted to go on to university myself.

      It seems at that point I became fully aware that I had always wanted to study and do well academically because that is the life I liked for myself and now wanted to continue. The fact that it pleased my parents was just an added bonus, and would be in the future as well, no doubt. That’s what I wanted for myself, regardless, to continue my education. If I can’t go on to do what I really want for myself, then the sky isn’t the limit. I’d be letting those hawks drive me right out of the sky, and I can’t do that. But then, there are obstacles. Oh Gilda it’s late and you are tired now, I told myself, go to sleep and think about it tomorrow.”

      “I slept late next morning, and all that day I just sat and lay around the house resting my body and letting my mind go through the process of restoration. When evening came, my father was home in plenty of time for dinner at seven. This wasn’t always so with him, but he was making a special effort now to be with mother and I in this time of difficulty.

      “It was mostly small talk at dinner and around the house that evening; talk about how nice it would be if my brother was near home to join us, incidentally he is doing post-graduate study at a university far from home; how when my father was just another accountant in his firm he had more time at home, carefree time; how hard work and promotion had brought prosperity to the family, but also brought its responsibilities, and these were not left behind at the office at five o’clock but tagged along with him. We discussed the pros and cons of this life of responsibility and decided it was very worthwhile overall, because it was fulfilling.

      “Because of the spontaneous way that conversation evolved that evening, I feel sure there was no intention on my parent’s part to spur me on to higher goals, yet it did set me thinking about fulfillment. As we watched television together that evening it kept popping into my mind. However, mostly I wanted rest and relaxation, so I kept it to myself. I slept well that night and well into mid-morning. I awakened feeling refreshed and restored, almost fully restored. My mind was active again now, and thinking about the problems of life. The thought foremost in my mind all day long was the dreadful thought of defeat that would come over my life if I did not return to university. I became more fully conscious that day that I had had two incentives spurring me on to university. One incentive was the example and desire of my parents all right, but, a second was that I really and truly wanted to for myself. I pondered and came to the conclusion that the second reason was indeed the more important to me. Whatever influence the first incentive had over me was gone. It didn’t matter whether my parents wanted me to or not, I wanted to go to university for myself, and not to go would be a dreadful and shattering defeat. As I look back now, I see it would have been a very traumatic defeat.

      “I surveyed my high school performance in dealing with problem teachers - and students - and felt that, contrary to what the psychiatrist at the hospital thought, I had done well. My downfall had been that I had let down my guard because I had led myself to believe there would be no need for such guard at university as there had been in high school. Now I was becoming reconciled to the fact that it may be the same all the way through-through university, perhaps through life. I was now prepared to dig in my heels and press on through university as I had through high school. Not to do so was to let those obnoxious ones rob me of life as I wanted it for myself. The thought of allowing that to happen was devastating to say the least. I thought over these things again and again all day long, and the more I thought of them the stronger my desire became to return to the fray at university.

      “That evening at dinner the conversation was light for awhile, as it had been the previous evening. It was mostly my father talking about some of the interesting things happening in his business nowadays. I did wonder, at the time, if he had a hidden motive in this, trying to arouse my interest in a business career. He told me later it was not so, it was just sociable conversation. Nevertheless at a convenient time I interrupted that conversation with a rather abrupt and excited statement. ‘Mom and Dad, I’ve decided what I am going to do from here on! I want you to know.’

      “My father was always the first to take me up on anything I came out with in the line of ideas and suggestions. “You’ve decided already?” he asked. Have you thought it through carefully, whatever it is?

      “‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’ve thought it through carefully, and I’m going back to university, next week.’

      “‘O-h-h-h!’ replied my father in a non committed manner. But then after a brief pause he added in positive tones, ‘You feel that well already?’

      “‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I do.’

      “‘You СКАЧАТЬ