Labels we wear.

I have heard coaches say, “What happens on the trip, stays on the trip.” It is code not to speak about  embarrassing things that may have happened afterwards. In this post I break the rule and write about personal things. Right or wrong how I see the world comes from excruciating shyness that has dogged me through life. I don’t blame anyone but myself. One of my earliest memories is of being afraid of a man I had no memory of wanting to embrace me. He spoke in a foreign tongue and smelt heavily of stale tobacco. My mother was saying to me, the child clinging to her skirt, “Don’t be afraid Bruce, it’s your father.” when he returned from active service in Darwin after WW11. Plus I have held a pathological awe of people in positions of responsibility.  Being deferent to them simply because they held a certain position. Perhaps, this feeling does come from my parents who always deferred to people in authority as they were the ones that paid them.

In modern parlance you would probably say I was on the spectrum and this is how I see the world.

Let’s get this right. I like you but I don’t understand you at all. My constant surprise is that you and I see the world differently. What I see as a joke, you say is inappropriate and too serious to joke about. My passing comment is considered wrong and most times I do not immediately know why. Consequently I have found  it difficult to find the right words at  emotional moments.  Therefore I acknowledge my lack of appreciation of the things you value does make it difficult for us both. Sadly our differences have prevented us sharing the same world view all these years. 

The reality is - you are everyone else but me. 

According to video clips I have seen - you are at concerts waving your arms around in time with the music. I prefer to miss pop concerts altogether, although I do wave my arms around in time with music as a conductor might when I am  listening to classical music. Unlike me you don’t deliberately listen to classical music, it seems,  except when it forms part of a movie sequence whereas I do it by preference. I sometimes find the rhythm of popular music nauseating, or too simple, and mostly too loud. I listen to the musical landscape as a whole and only very rarely concentrate on the lyrics alone. Thus I am surprised when my listening introduces a mondo green others do not hear.

At sports grounds your cheers fill the air when your team is doing well, and with jeers, when it fails.  I don’t understand your fanaticism for matters so trivial. This is not meant as a criticism perhaps I just missed the gene of socialised behaviour. I never feel the urge to join in to do things with others. I have of course but I tend to remain outside the camp of needing people around me. Generally I can only put up with others for a shorty while.

You fill trains, buses, escalators and anything that moves to get somewhere else. To me your  chattering voices fill the air like cicadas on a hot summer evening. Your excitement appears to come simply because you like to share space with others. I do not know why.

You like cities and their monuments, churches, and temples. You welcome the chance to visit interpretation centres of heroic moments in war.  Indeed curators seek to find new gimmicks to keep you interested.  I think  them monumentally obscene -  like war itself. By my reckoning a moment of thought is all the reminder needed to thank the glorious dead.

You also glorify the shopping centres built to honour commerce in much the same way. I passionately hate them all. 

The simple difference between us is - it is unusual to see you alone because you appear love hustle and bustle. Not for you the bliss of observing the sky, land and sea while peacefully alone.  Solitude is an elixir to me.

You congregate together in a spirit of congenitally and you love team games. Perhaps you learned this in adolescence. Coaches often say there is no I in TEAM and maybe this is where your need for company began. I missed that lesson. The lesson to stand by your mates and to do your best for the team is one I missed. My limited experience with sport was playing as an individual. 

This leads me to observe we show more heroism when facing life’s travails alone. Anyway you learned to treat others equally and that is good. On the other hand I remain uneasy in company. This is especially so when I am among new faces.

Today your phone captures everything you do. You like others to like what is happening in your life. I would prefer to remain anonymous. I have found this in almost every aspect of my life. I prefer to dress insignificantly like a female bird. I choose  dull colours, plain fabrics, and unspectacular appearances and disappearances. 

Let’s face it, I am not a team player. I don’t understand how people can put the team first. If I am noticed it is because I am wearing a disguise, or I am playing a role, or I am affected by alcohol. 

So there you have it. I am delighted we know each other. I like the fact you ask who I am but I lack the refinement to ask of you first when we are talking. Too often I will have difficulty recalling your name. Or when we last spoke, or what we agreed we said we would do. 

Life, as we know is more complex than labels.  When I use them to make sense of  the preceding paragraphs  I tell only part of the story. I have never started a day thinking I must not get involved with people.  I have been involved all my life in the lives of others and I will let the following lines illustrate how.

As a kid I was a scout. I enjoyed the challenge and the structure of scout life.  Scouts as you know wear distinctive uniforms. I was never much attracted to the uniform but it did help me identify some scouts were more experienced than others. With no reason to pull back I remained a scout for many years. Each year I was given more responsibility and I enjoyed helping younger boys learn  the ropes. 

As a teacher I took an interest in troubled kids, or those left behind,  because I could see the inherent injustice of abandoning them. My feelings for the underdog have always prompted me to stand up for the weak. With those thoughts dominating my behaviour I took an active interest in the rights of teachers and became branch president of the local branch of the Teachers Union.

I have previously written about my adolescence and the church but not mentioned the gains from it in my adolescence. In my close association with the church I grew into roles of responsibility. I learned about the rules of meetings, the constitution of the group,  and the importance of order gained  following rules. I learned rules were never to used as a crutch to rigidly hide behind but to challenge if it was obviously restricting progress using the process of the group to affect change. Church life was my guide to managing crowds. I had roles, as a choir boy, a server, a Sunday school teacher, and each role determined the way I managed myself in groups of people. The other thing is it drew me closer to the person I imagined God wanted me to become. My religious life was pious, innocent, and naive. I never had to buck against the system to be complete.  I simply had to follow the rules I was absorbing from the church.

It meant my self discovery was within a very small, limited, sheltered, frame work. In my mind my self worth was measured by how I could help other people. Any sign of assertiveness was put aside as I had not yet learned to say No. The use of the word was to reject the other and not used to set limits. Into our church world entered a man who we would possibly say was ADHD. I will not use his name. He set about changing everything to suit his image of what a congregation was despite having no formal role in it. (I was later to make a submission to the Royal Commission into institutional sexual abuse about him and how he groomed youngsters for his own gratification. He was masterful at getting his own way.) 

As a form of control he organised a road trip to Adelaide supposedly so the local lads could visit a religious house at Crafters in the Adelaide Hills. St Michaels House was a small Anglican place  run as a training centre for clergy.  It was a working farm of contemplative priests, brothers and trainees. (It was destroyed by fire in 1982 and the order never restarted there.) Being away from home we stayed in a couple of motel rooms each night  as we totalled six. It is my greatest shame I did nothing to defend the younger boys from abuse when he chose to spend the nights in their room. I never asked, but shamefully I remain convinced they were abused.

Having typed these words I foolishly believe that in posting them here in such a public space I am being courageous. Having a mind twisted by life events has been a burden. The burden has paralysed me many times. Darkened my mood to the extent it has broken me. Speaking honestly has taken a lifetime of self discovery and has only been endured because of the love given to me  by my wife, and you my friends. Thank you for your acceptance of my oddities.