We’d never have gotten up from our knees if we could.

            Normally I think about what to write in my blog, and then write it. But this time, I’m going to try something new. I’ve read the poem twice, highlighting things that don’t make sense. I’m going to bullet them here, then, if applicable, briefly Google what information I can about them, and hopefully the revelation it leads too. Confident we’ll figure the rest out in class, I won’t spend long digger through various resources to find what I need, but here we go:

• “One of the six billion of her hungry and curious kind. Inside the backpack, dog-eared, full of illustrations.”

            The number threw me at first, because I didn’t think this poem was that old (it’s not), and I thought there was much closer to seven billion people alive. Google says that only a little more than 20 years ago there were a billion people less alive. That clears that up.

            I had no idea what “dog-eared” means. Neither does my dictionary. But Google says it refers to the folded down corner of a book. Which makes perfect sense, since it’s an adjective describing a book. So, is it mention to be descriptive, or imply that the book is commonly referenced?

• “She’s one of those who’s only hungry metaphorically.”

            No comprendo here. I can’t even try to figure out if there is a metaphor I don’t get here, because it says there is . . . so, yeah, I don’t know what this means.

• Everything about Lucretius.

            Apparently Lucretius was a Roman poet from around 1^st century BC. Best known for his philosophical poem, “On the Nature of the Universe.” This is obviously Hass’ inspiration for the title of his own poem.

            Wikipedia (I know) says that he begins his poem by invoking Venus, paralleling another reference Hass makes in his own poem.

            Being mentioned several times, it was clear Lucretius was a fair part of the inspiration for Hass’ poem, but after reading about him briefly, it would seem he was nearly the sole inspiration.

• “God: about fished out. Haddock: about fished out”

            I’m not entirely sure what the term “fished out” means here. Especially since God and a fish are mentioned together as being such.

• “Most of the ancient groves are gone, sacred to Kuan Yin and Artemis”

            Kuan Yin, or Guanyin, is the Goddess of Mercy, and Artemis has much to do with nature and life. This still leaves me a little lost about how the two are correlated together, and how they tie into the story.

• “The blood of the rainbow boa curled in the earth’s core”

            I feel like there is more to this line, but briefly Googling only brings up Hass’ poem.

• “The figure of three graces” (Appetite, Chaste Restraint, and Beauty, apparently)

            Same as above, really. I don’t get this. I started hitting some really rough patches around this area.

• Several references to “the dance” or “dancing”

            Tough to Google, so I’m lost.

• The last three lines

            Ditto.

Overall, I liked this poem. I got the main overtone I feel. It had lots of reference to the agony of the planet, and perhaps human nature, too. There are quite a few things up for interpretation, and a good deal of thought provocation.

My favorite line, though I don’t think it’s particularly important to the poem, was this: “It must be a gift of evolution that humans can’t sustain wonder. We’d never have gotten up from our knees if we could.”

That’s quite epic. I hear a lot of Christian complain about God becoming “normal” to them, and how disappointing that is. And yes, God should never be plain to us . . . BUT the facet of human nature that makes Him become plain to us is absurdly necessary for a reasonable life. If we could keep it from working so well on Him, we’d probably be better off, but ‘tis life.

Growth

            Visiting AFI was exceptionally more enjoying than I expected, and more edifying. When we first arrived, I was still a little apprehensive. It was not until we got to hang out with the clients that my apprehension peaked and dissipated. As I first walked in to the lunchroom to find a spot to sit, I really didn’t know where to turn. I timidly surveyed my surroundings until I made eye contact with a female client. She excitedly pulled a chair out and beckoned for me to sit next to her saying, “Here. Come here. You. Sit here. This seat is for you.” Obviously I sat next to her. She excitedly shook my hand, introduced herself, and asked my name. The three other clients that were sitting with us watched in rapt attention as she carried the conversation on her back. I had no need to fear a lull in the chat as she was always full of questions and answers.

            After a few minutes, Amanda sat down with us, and our friend fired off the same slew of questions. Occasionally the client sitting next to me would look at me and rolls his eyes sarcastically and say, “Man, these girls can really talk, huh?” I acted like an old friend talking smack and said with a laugh, “Tell me about it!”

            I’ve always said leaving your comfort zone leads to growth and improvement. I definitely grew in that I will no longer feel any kind of apprehension towards the mentally handicapped. They love and want to be loved just like anyone else. Probably moreso. Actually, I imagine many of them have an understanding of love that I would be jealous of.

            The play might have slightly influenced my experienced of the trip a little, but the trip greatly influenced my experience of the play. I sympathize more with Jack. I find the boys even more innocent and enchanting. I can hear them speaking their lines much more clearly. My heart really goes out to them more, and the humor I saw in the scenes felt much more justified. Almost as if I understand them more, and I know that I’m not judging them, but I’m enjoying the unintentional wit they provide.

            I’ve grown, and that’s always my goal. I’m excited to see how my growth if manifested in other areas of my life, too.

I was sick, and you visited me.

• Defining “normal” as being created in God’s image.

            At first, I didn’t quite agree. But what if being created in God’s image is the standard of normal? Then being sub-average or above-average is up to you. It’s up to the percentage of your possible effort you put out. It becomes about the choices you can make, and the life you choose to leave. This takes away judgment based on ascribed statuses, and that a beautiful thing because it creates a righteous base line of equality among all people.

            Fettke states that “it seems very unjust to single out the disabled for their inability to adjust their embodiment.” I agree, in a way. After all, this paper is about them and how we can create and expand ministry to accommodate them, but I don’t think that detracts from the point being made. Singling them out as less deserving of assistance would be the crime as far as I see it.

• Should a sound mind and body be part of the definition of personhood?

            God forbid! If we believe that all humans are created by the Spirit in the image of God, then obviously not! The disabled deserve as much as they can handle. To consider them beneath personhood seems like it would be insulting to God.

• Can the disabled be “healed” by others’ acceptance of who they are?

            I think, in a way, yes. They do indeed have irrefutable disadvantages for living, but I would argue that most of the prominent issues they face are based on discrimination. Now, of course, treating them as if they don’t have a disorder is even more unjust, but treating them differently beyond helping them is wrong. Loving and supporting those who assist them doesn’t heal them, but I feel it does alleviate some of the worse symptoms.

• “The mentally handicapped . . . were the crack I desperately needed to give concreteness to my critique of modernity.”

            Mmm. Perhaps our perspective of everything is partial without some understanding of how the mentally handicapped are. Maybe we’re a little blind without them. This alone helps me to feel a little more uplifted about the idea of spending time with them during tomorrow field trip.

            I think Fettke is discussing a topic of true importance. Though I’m not sure where I stand on how we should reach out to them, I know it would be on Christ’s “to-do list.” I went to look up the verse where Jesus says, “Whatever you do for the least of my people, you do for me.” and I saw that it was actually the verses the Fettke mentions in his paper. Rightly so. It also says, “I was sick, and you visited me.” Regardless of where your mind is, if that doesn’t put you heart into this field trip, I’m not sure what would.

Act II, I repeat, and I mean this, Act II!

            Reading parts of this play out loud with some classmates was far more enjoyable than I expected. We got to laugh quite a bit at one another, and it certainly helped me to recognize more of the subtle humor contained in the dialogue.

            Act II contained a lot of things that really accent the “laugh, then realize it’s really not that funny” concept. I have some trouble deciding how much I actually do laugh at myself, so I can’t figure out what is okay to laugh at otherwise. The very end of the story seemed open to me the first time I read it, but upon my second go, it hit me as very final in its openness. I could help but think, “John and Mary die. John and Mary die. John and Mary die.”

            The compassionate love I feel from Jack towards Arnold in the last scene was heart wrenching to me. When Arnold tells Jack that he has “behavior patterns better than a lot of people” I felt a warm smile cross my face. Then, when Jack and Arnold walk away from the train station together, the announcement of the train’s destination and Arnold’s glance back really hit me! It was a strange feeling, and I’m not sure what it was founded on. Maybe it was just the fact that I was visualizing it so well. I could really see the scene, and really feel the really wide mix of emotions in the scene. There is certainly a great deal of contrast between different feelings there.

            I’m trying to consider how this reading will further prepare me for our field trip, but I’ve yet to see it. If I’m completely honest, I am a little apprehensive about it. I really have no idea why, and I do see that it is totally irrational, and I can’t pinpoint a real reason, but I just tend to be uncomfortable around the mentally handicapped. I’ve worked with mentally handicapped before, even instructed them in martial arts classes, but I just feel weird. One theory I came up with was invasion of my bubble. I have a very small bubble, but in most situations, I don’t like people in it. I think martial arts might have thickened this bubble, but it’s never really a problem for me. Well, the only mentally handicapped folks I’ve ever worked with love to put their arms around me, touch me, hug, etc. I see this as very sweet of them, but I’m absolutely on edge the entire time it’s happening. My muscles are tense, and I know I’m in a heightened autonomic state. With everyone else I can step away without initiating a game of tag, or ask for a little space without perplexing the person. I suppose then that leaving my comfort zone will do me some good, but I like my bubble, and I’m not sure I want it popped. Maybe I just want to learn how control the intensity of my bubble in different situations.

Oh, boy!

            The Boys Next Door was easy for me to read, in that it engaged me with its wit and colorful characters. As I read the first few pages of the story, I playfully considered the possibility that everyone was mentally handicapped in the story. I was trying to figure out what style of writing this was, or what was in the author’s mind to make the characters act as unusual as they did. Eventually, when Jack finished monologizing his background to me, I realized I’d pretty much hit the nail on the head.

            After that, I found myself loving most of the characters more than I had imagined I would. Lucien seems very kind-hearted and is driven and motivated to learn and improve himself. His especially child-like character feels innocent and sweet. Norman never fails to crack me up with his, “Oh boy!” and seems like he would do whatever he could to make someone else happy, though he usually projects a generally selfish attitude. Arnold seems to be tenderhearted and I really felt for him after Jack exploded at him and he said, “You’ve got behavior patterns that are not fun, Jack! Not, I repeat, one bit fun!”

            I was pleased with Jack’s character in the beginning of the story. Caring for seventeen mentally handicapped adult men takes a special kind of person. Once Jack lashed out at Arnold verbally, I immediately hated his character, but after a moment, I realized I could understand his lapse in self-control, especially since he calmed down and even wondered if these men deserved a better man than he. Jack says, “They deserve better. Or I deserve better. Or somebody deserves something.” I wonder if this will be worth remembering through the rest of the story.

            Also, I can enjoy Barry, but he tends to annoy me more than the others. Only from a fictional perspective of course, I would be more sympathetic towards a real case of schizophrenia, but his general role in the story almost always causes me to sigh and realize his thoughts and “behavior patterns” are not truly his fault.

            I’m looking forward to finishing this story. I think I could grow from this story, depending on how it ends, which I will find out soon enough. It’s such a unique setting, with uncommon characters, perhaps the lessons to be learned would be difficult to find elsewhere.