Because

by Jack A. Langedijk

  The boy’s face got red and flushed, he pulled his hands from his pockets, lifted his shirt and wiped the sweat off his face. “Emotional intelligence?” he said. “What the hell is that? Look, no matter how hard we try, people are people and you can’t change people.”

  Robert moved closer and gently reached out to put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. The moment he was about to touch him, the kid pushed Robert’s arm away with such force that it almost knocked Robert to the floor. Without another word, he stormed out of the gym. Robert looked back at the other students and saw that no one had even noticed. Right at that moment, the next song, about an ordinary day and feeling all right, started. This song held a special place in Robert’s heart. It was the first song Jenny sang in that bar not so long ago—the day she leaped out of her depression back into her life.

  There was a joyous feeling in the gym as most of the students who knew the song sang and danced. It felt like there had been an explosion of openness and, just like the rock band’s name, the room felt like a Great Big Sea of sharing for everyone except the kid who had just run out of the gym. The boy who had slammed the door shut on the hope that people could ever change.

  Robert listened to the radio on his way home. An advertisement came on: “Your brain just got brighter!” It was a commercial for a new web site, advertising how they could help build the power of one’s memory. Their slogan was “If we change our thinking, we change our life!”

  Yeah, if only it was true that we could do it all in a simple game on the computer! You know, that day when I first met Philip, I remember it being such an exhilarating and healing day, but I just couldn’t let go of the image of that kid pushing me away and walking out. And then I heard that “Your brain just got brighter!” commercial, and all I could think about was that kid whose brain must be so dark. Was there any way to get some light in there? How do you retrain a brain to hear something new? Listen to the positive when it is already filled with something so overwhelmingly negative? And his reaction to “emotional intelligence” made me feel kind of foolish...

  The year before, Robert had taken a night school course called “Emotional Intelligence.” The course was focused on how everyone needed to build a stronger emotional intelligence in order to help cope with the many emotional situations they would encounter in their lives. And he found himself using some of what he learned from that course in his workshops.

  “Add up all of the time and money you have spent on how you look. Think about it. How much time and money did you spend on your hair—your clothes – your looks? How much time working out at the gym? And now think of all the time or money you have spent on your emotional health.”

  It’s crazy, isn’t it? We spend so much time and money on how we look, but how much time and money do we really spend on making our insides look or feel better? And all the time we spend at school in classes training and strengthening our brains...but “emotional intelligence” was just a new, fancy, empty word to this kid. Like that commercial: “If we change our thinking, we change our life!” How do you get someone like him to listen in a new way?

  And what kind of listener was I?

  Monique and Jenny had often teased Robert about his inability to multi-task. If Robert was doing something that needed any type of even mild concentration, he was unable to listen to anyone and do his work at the same time. He would always have to stop what he was doing and listen. Was that bad?

  It struck him as strange that in all his schooling throughout the years, he never came across a course on listening. He was taught to write and speak but not really how to listen. And when working as a probation officer, the most common complaint was how someone wasn’t listening to them and how that pissed them off, made them mad, hurt them and somehow ultimately caused them to do the things they were doing. ‘It sometimes sounded,’ Robert thought, ‘that the real reason they turned to a life of crime was because they felt no one ever listened to them.’

  It’s true, isn’t it? When we come into this world, we can’t talk, we are just these needy observers that are constantly listening and responding. So we listen in order to survive. If something scares us, we wail and seek protection. So, I guess we listen to feel safe. Yet, if that’s true, then maybe we also don’t listen to feel safe as well!

  All these listening questions excited Robert, as they gave him new ideas for topics in his workshops. Whenever he had these ideas, he would go to Virginia Farrell.

  Virginia had been Robert’s colleague at the probation office. All four foot eleven inches of Virginia was pure drive and energy. It was strange the two of them had become such good friends as they were complete opposites. Robert was playful and impulsive; Virginia was a tough, no-nonsense kind of person. The probation office always assigned her all the difficult cases. Like the many young girls who had fallen and were barely hanging on to the cliff of life—the lost ones that would do almost anything to survive—abused, pregnant at fourteen and selling their bodies to feed a serious drug addiction.

  Virginia possessed a true love for her work at the probation office. She was great at it until an incident eight years ago made her question her ability and whether she was really making a difference or helping anyone.

  It happened on the final day of probation for a seventeen-year-old, Louise Parks. Virginia had just signed Louise’s court papers for her last probation visit. They talked. Everything felt positive and hopeful for the future as Virginia walked Louise outside. Just as they reached the parking lot behind the office, Virginia opened her arms for a goodbye hug but was greeted with a small, sharp-looking knife.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Farrell, but I need your purse,” Louise said.

  Virginia didn’t flinch. She didn’t say a word. She just took her bag off her shoulder and handed it to the girl. She then watched Louise put the knife back in her coat pocket and run down the street.

  Virginia stood there stunned, with her arms still wide open, preparing for that goodbye embrace. For almost a full minute she stood there. Then suddenly, she dropped her arms, walked to the front of the building and picked up her almost empty purse. Virginia noticed her cell phone was still in the purse. She pulled it out and made a call. She didn’t call the police. She called back upstairs to her office and asked for Robert Sanchez.

  “Do you have a client right now? ‘Cause I need to talk,” Virginia said in a calm, unnerving voice.

  “Virginia? Why are you calling? Didn’t I just see you here in the office?” Robert questioned.

  “I’ll be back in thirty seconds. Do you have some time?”

  “Sure, I got about half an hour.”

  “Great, see you. Bye.” Virginia went back into the building and walked into Robert’s office. She closed his door, told him what had just happened and then asked him to help her write a resignation letter.

  “Do you want me to call the police?”

  “What am I going to tell them, Robert? I just got robbed at knife point by a girl I have been meeting two times a month for the past year...and I just signed off on her last probation visit. Tell them that I just signed a document stating she has officially paid her price to society and is now ready to be welcomed back?”

  “Yeah...Doesn’t sound that good when you say it that way.”

  Virginia sighed. “I care, Robert. God knows I care, but every year the list gets longer, the girls get younger. How big is your case load this year?”

  “It’s...umm...well, it’s doubled.”

  “It’s killing me! I want to do something so it’s not always doubling.”

  “But Virginia, there have been a lot of cut backs.”

  “Really? Robert, really? Count them. Seriously count them. All the cases from last year, compared to this year, or the year before. How much time can you spend with each case? Oh God, what the hell am I doing with this life of mine?”

  Virginia put her face in her hands and looked as if she was about to break down and cry. Robert suddenly felt uncomfortable seeing his ment
or, his role model—the one he always came to for advice and ideas—look so defeated. She was the probation office’s guiding light; she represented its strength, courage and never-say-die attitude. And now, Virginia Farrell was giving up! He was speechless, not knowing how to comfort her.

  Virginia reached over to the shelf behind her, grabbed a tissue and then wiped a tear from her face. Robert quickly stood up, awkwardly took the tissue box and held it for her, but it slipped from his hand onto the floor. Robert knelt down to pick it up, then almost comically put his arm out to comfort her. He found himself unsure where to put his hand. On her knee? No, that would be too intimate, he thought. Her head? No, that would seem like he was patting a child. Robert ended up putting a hand on her shoulder and as he knelt beside her chair, he said, “I know how you feel. Is there anything...”

  “Robert, please stand up and don’t look at me like that. I’m quitting here, but I’m not giving up. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now and it’s about time I do it.”

  “Do what?” Robert asked slowly and suspiciously, while looking at Virginia as if she was about to do something she might regret.

  “Oh my God, what’s wrong with you? School, Robert, I’m going back to school to teach elementary kids. If I’m going to make any difference in these girls’ lives, I need to start working with them when they’re younger.”

  And as Robert walked into Warden Elementary School, he thought of that day, the day Virginia Farrell changed her world and gave him the inspiration to change his as well. It just took him a few more years.

  Robert walked down the overly decorated hallway that was filled with massive celebrations of the student’s artistic endeavours. Virginia walked out of a classroom and Robert immediately opened his arms to give her a welcoming hug. Virginia put her hand up and stopped him in his tracks.

  “No,” she said. “Roberto Sanchez, the answer is no if you’re coming to get me to climb another one of those mountains with you. I’m still limping from the four thousand blisters I got last year!”

  Two years ago, Robert had convinced Virginia to join him and a team of twenty-five people that included principals, teachers and some parents, to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. Their goal was to raise money for safety awareness programs at their schools.

  “Nope, let those blisters heal. Just wanted to know how your class is this year.”

  Virginia smiled at Robert with a questioning look. “Really?”

  “Okay. I just want to know if you could lend me your class for a couple of hours. I have this idea and I was hoping I could test it out.” Robert gave her his please-help-me smile.

  “All right, come here.” Virginia reached up and gave Robert a welcoming hug.

  “Now get in,” Virginia said, laughingly pointing to her classroom door. The two of them talked about Robert’s listening questions and ideas as they walked into Virginia’s grade three classroom.

  Virginia’s classroom looked like a garden in full bloom. It was filled with so many colourful drawings. There were some classical pictures of pyramids and pharaohs and some pretty outrageous cartoon figures of Greek gods.

  Pointing to the neat rows of desks, Robert asked, “Hey, Virginia, I thought you liked to group the kids’ desks?”

  “I do, but this week is independence week, so each desk is a place on its own. Look at them! Each student had to identify themselves as a country or place. It can be real or completely made up. Then they have to write their own laws, code of conduct, and beliefs. Look at all their flags. They had to design and build them out of anything that was found in the recycling bins here or at home.”

  Robert laughed in amazement as he looked around each desk. Paper, cardboard, milk cartons and some metal things he thought might be old computer parts—all transformed into flags with names mounted on the top of each desk: The Grand Cameron, Los Angela, Argen-Tina, Eiffel Tyrone, Cheri-ton Hotel, United States of Amelia, Niagara Frank Falls...

  All the desks were uniform in shape and size except for one in the middle of the last row of desks. It was an adult-sized desk that had a simple, conventional looking flag made out of gold paper. On it was written, “Manny’s Place.”

  “Is this your assistant teacher’s desk?” asked Robert.

  “No, that’s Manny Moulder’s desk. Oh my God, Robert, you wouldn’t believe this child’s story. He has a background just like so many of those kids down at the parole office: father ran off, mother in jail for drugs. Oh, and on top of all that, he’s twice as big as all the other kids his age.”

  Robert sadly smiled. “Must be hard for him.”

  “Well, maybe at first it was, but Robert, you can’t believe—”

  The bell disrupted Virginia. She told Robert to wait in the classroom as she went outside to get her class. Virginia poked her head back through the door. “Oh. Robert, look at the BE wall, I think that helped Manny the most.”

  At the back of the classroom were photographs of every student in Virginia’s class. They were tacked up in one big circle. In the middle of the pictures was the word BE. Under that BE was what looked to be a poem titled: BELIEVE + BELONG = BEHAVE. Robert read it out loud to himself:

  To BE or not to BE depends on what you BElieve. If you BElieve you BElong, then that is how you will BEhave! BE-cause that is what you BE and have. So help others BEhave by helping them to BElieve they BElong. And then, everyone can always say they BE-LIVED!

  Of course I immediately thought of the big kid from my workshop who didn’t believe people could change, and how he probably didn’t believe he belonged, and perhaps that was why he behaved the way he did—pushing me away.

  I don’t think I’ve ever told Virginia how really proud I was of her. She had a purpose: she wanted to make a difference in younger people’s lives. And look at her now, she was actually doing it! Virginia was doing something very few ever seem to be able to do: she was living her life with a purpose and making a living doing it!

  The halls of the school quickly came to life. Robert looked outside in the hallway and watched all the children enter their classrooms. Soon, Virginia’s class was passing him by, laughing and talking as they made their way to their desks. Robert greeted each child; some smiled, and some asked right away who he was with intense, suspicious faces. At the end of the line came a child who looked to be twice the age and size of the other children. The boy passed by Robert and went into the classroom but then suddenly swirled around to face Robert, bowed slightly and said, “Manny Moulder, and who do we have the pleasure of meeting?”

  Robert was completely taken aback and looked at Virginia, who just chuckled and said, “That’s him, that’s the authentic Manny Moulder style.”

  But Manny didn’t move. He was waiting for Robert’s response. So Robert bowed his head slightly and said, “Robert Sanchez.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sanchez,” Manny simply said, before he made his way back to his desk.

  Although Manny Moulder was taller than every other kid and was probably close to a hundred pounds heavier, no one seemed to pay any mind to it. Robert watched as Manny made his way to his oversized desk. Even while he was walking past all the same-sized desks that fit everyone but him, Manny seemed perfectly at home. He was just there. He believed he belonged and so that was how he behaved! Despite the obvious differences to every other child in that class, Manny seemed to just “be” another kid in that room. As he watched Manny fiddle a little with his flag to make sure “Manny’s Place” was prominently displayed, Robert couldn’t stop himself from thinking, What does it feel like to not fit into something everyone else fits into?

  “All right, class, please sit down. I’m going to time you starting...five, four, three, two, one...now!” Virginia had a stopwatch and pressed a button. Robert was astonished, for, magically, the room was suddenly silent. Robert gave Virginia a questioning look but she just held up a finger, signalling for him to wait.

  Robert looked around the room. Some kids had their eyes closed, some wi
th faces all squeezed up and some with cheeks ballooned out. Suddenly, gasps could be heard from each part of the room. Some kids were sucking in air like they had just run a mile.

  Virginia let out a gasp too and then said, “We’re practising holding our breath.” As she looked around the room, some kids appeared to still be holding their breath, so she waited until the last of them gasped for a precious intake of air.

  “Well, today, it’s Linda at twenty-three seconds! And that will be our goal tomorrow, to beat Linda’s twenty-three seconds.”

  Robert raised his hands and was about to clap but then, noticing how quiet the room was, he gave a silent applause to Virginia, acknowledging her always unique ways of getting kids to quiet down.

  “Well, kids, I’d like you to meet Roberto Sanchez.”

  She walked over to a large picture that hung between the colourful words “Perseverance” and “Goal.” The picture was of a large group posing on top of a mountain. The picture was a strangely animated shot, as most people in the group had their hands reaching out in front of them, looking as if they were ready to jump. Virginia pointed to the picture. “Mr. Sanchez was the one that organized for all of us to be on top of this mountain.”

  A little girl quickly raised her hand and Virginia asked, “What is it, Thelma?”

  “How come he’s not in the picture then?” Thelma asked curiously.

  “Good question! That is because someone had to take the picture.”

  Thelma’s hand immediately went back up again. “Was he that someone?”

  Robert jumped in. “I was! But one thing your teacher didn’t ask was why most people in the picture all have their hands reaching out and pointing. See?” Robert pointed at the picture. “The top of the mountain isn’t that big and we had a pretty large group. Is it okay if I take your class’s picture, Miss Farrell?”

  Virginia smiled and nodded her agreement. Robert pulled out his cell phone and brought it to his eyes. Then he started backing away from the class, pretending to relive the moment and acting as if he was trying to take a picture of the class.