Giving Back

Dan was fossilized. Facebook pictures trapped each stage of his evolution in amber; from an aspiring poet and musician, to being the hip teacher who could connect with students to being an activist against an education system that was designed to elevate those already within reach to the levers and throw the rest into the machine. He never had moved on to Instagram nor Twitter. Not for any noble reason, just because he couldn’t be arsed with more passwords and notifications. As it was, he was reading so much that he didn’t have time to read, and posting so much that he didn’t have time to write.

Watching the thin skin of liberal democracy being stripped away one layer at a time became so traumatizing that he now found himself in a permanently dissociated state. Sensitivity, compassion and intelligence had shifted from being his strengths to being lethal vulnerabilities. If there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that the secret of a good performance was knowing when to leave.

He wanted to be of service even as he exited. He figured that he’d post that he was moving to another state. That he had to get rid of his stuff. That way he could give his vintage stereo to Eric, who had enough vinyl to give it regular exercise. He also didn’t want to put the cleaning staff through too much trauma, so he bought an extension cord that would allow the toaster to reach the bathtub.

Dan went to his laptop to leave Eric a message about picking up the stereo and to see if the power cord had shipped yet. He saw a friend request from someone named Gillian Sanchez. Her face seemed familiar and her bio said that she had graduated from one of the high schools where he used to teach. She sent him a DM:

“Mr. Dan, you probably don’t recognize me, but I used to be in your sophomore English class at Cesar Chavez High School. You knew me as Gilbert Sanchez. You probably have no idea that you literally saved my life. I was in such pain that I just wanted it all to stop. You seen me crying and came over to talk to me. I didn’t know what to say. My family was Seventh Day Adventists and they had shunned me. Told me I wasn’t just a sinner, but that I was a sin. So when you asked me what was wrong, I just said ‘shunning.’ You asked who was I shunning and I said ‘nobody,’ and you said ‘doesn’t sound like you’re the one with the problem.’ And then you said something corny about being who I am and not who others want me to be, but I saw you believed it. Long story short, I’m getting married in two months and I’d love for you to come and meet the rest of my chosen family.”

Dan used the extension cord to DJ the reception.