Because

by Jack A. Langedijk

  “Hi, Philip,” Robert said, smiling. Philip said nothing. He kept his eyes glued to the floor like a kid who knew he was about to receive punishment.

  “Would you like to sit down?” Robert said, pointing at the empty chair in front of the desk.

  Still nothing. It was a strange sight, seeing this huge-sized human being try to make himself small enough not to be noticed in a room that probably couldn’t have held more than five people.

  “‘Kong.’ What nationality is that?” Robert tried to engage Philip.

  Philip stayed silent. He seemed to be working on his invisible act by edging closer to the wall. Pushing one foot into the floor as if he hoped a secret trap door would suddenly open and he could escape.

  “So, Philip, I’m not a psychic or anything, but I can tell that maybe you don’t want to do this?”

  “Look, I’m sorry! Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you...I’m sorry, okay?! I just couldn’t take it.” His voice sounded like a man who had been held under water for too long; every word came out in a gasp.

  “Whoa, Philip...easy. It’s ok. I’m not here because of that.”

  “Please! I’m sorry! And Mr. Bosco, if he tells my parents, you got no idea! You got no idea...I’m sorry, Really! I didn’t mean to push you! It’s just, they all lie, they do! They all lie. Please, sir, my parents are already ashamed of me enough.”

  Robert took a step to put a hand on Philip’s shoulder, but the moment he reached out, Philip’s arms flew into the air and almost hit him.

  “I’m sorry...Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” Philip pleaded like a little boy. “Look, see, I did it again! I’m so sorry, sir. I’m just not used to being touched. It’s just—”

  “Philip.” Robert spoke as sternly yet compassionately as he could. “Philip, listen to me. I’m not here because of what happened at that workshop. Mr. Bosco asked you to come here so I could talk to you about filming and editing some of my workshops at this school, that’s all.”

  Philip looked stunned. He wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead with his hand. His white T-shirt was becoming soaked and he looked as if he had been doing laps for the last hour. Even though he was extremely overweight, his face somehow did not reflect that. He was handsome with long hair. Robert thought he looked a little bit like Jackie Chan did in that Shanghai Knights film.

  “Look, Philip, I never told anyone about what happened. Why would I? I think you probably had your reasons...” Robert tried to calm the boy by making light of the situation. “But, I am going to ask you not to push me again, okay, Philip?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just...you know...well, nobody ever—” Philip stopped.

  “Ever what, Philip?”

  “No, it’s okay. I just sometimes...I’m sorry, sir, would you like to tell me what you want me do?”

  “Okay...well, Philip, I’m working with the grade twelve leadership class and I’d like to film it. And I asked those students who would be best to record and edit this thing and most people pointed me in your direction, you and Andrew Hunter. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about: to see if you’re interested in working with me. Your teacher has confirmed that you will get credit for all the work. So what do you say?”

  “Are you kidding? Really? Some other kids said I would be good at this?”

  “Yeah, Philip, I asked the students first and at least six or seven mentioned your name.”

  Philip stared at me and it looked as if he was about to smile, like it made him proud that some kids had thought of him, but just as quick, he revealed the pain that surrounded this young man. A hurt so vividly spelled out...

  “My name? What did they say...the fat kid will do it. Phil-huge-jo...Summo Phil...Chop-Phil-suey? I don’t think anyone even knows my real name and the stupid part of all is that all those names are Japanese or Chinese.”

  “What are you then, Philip?”

  “Korean. Well, my parents are...I was born here.”

  “Philip, honestly, I never heard any of those nasty names. They just said just your name, Philip.”

  “And it’s not like my last name is doing me any favours.”

  “Oh!”

  What could I say to that? It was true. No one would expect someone named Kong to be small. I remember wanting to make light of it, maybe make a joke of it, to lighten the moment. But I’m sure he’d heard every possible spin on his name, so I just smiled and told him I was hoping he would do the filming for me.

  “What do you need me to do?” he asked.

  “Just come to the workshops and film them. Shoot some interviews and then help me edit them into something I could use as a promo for the workshops. So what do you say? I really need your help. Seriously, I could really use it, Philip.”

  Philip wiped his sweaty brow once again and then, thinking Robert didn’t notice, wiped his hands dry behind his back on his T-shirt. He looked at Robert, still not letting go of those suspicious eyes.

  But suddenly blurted out,

  “Okay, I’ll do it. But wait, I don’t have to do anything but film, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s right, Philip. But I really need to speak to you about something you said to me before we do this. Okay?”

  Philip looked away but nodded.

  “Look. The first time we spoke, you said to me that, no matter how hard you try, you can’t change people and that people can’t change. Now, since you will be working with me and what I’m actually trying to do is to get people to do things that require some kind of change...well, I really need to know what you meant and why you reacted the way you did.”

  It took Philip no time to reply. It was clear that the thoughts he had about people and change had already been implanted in him many years ago. It was also clear from the moment he opened his mouth that these festering thoughts had created some type of ticking time bomb inside of him—an explosive device that had already been turned on and had started its countdown.

  “Look, I know you’re trying to get people to care about others and kind of try to understand each other better...But even after all that stuff at your workshop, you know, kids crying and saying stuff like they are sorry...well, you know what? It didn’t matter ‘cause in the end, they still all act the same. No one is changed!”

  I remembered having to take a breath before I responded; Philip’s response was a bit of a punch in the gut.

  “Are you sure about that, Philip? No one’s changed? No one changed any of their behaviours towards each other at all?”

  Philip stayed silent, busy wiping his brow and no longer trying to hide what he was doing by drying his hands on the front of his T-shirt.

  “Have you spoken to anyone since then, Philip? Have your friends said anything?”

  “Ha, friends?” He tried to laugh, to look as if he didn’t care, but the next thing out of his mouth was painful to hear. “Look, no one wants to be friends with the Asian fat-freak kid, okay!”

  His voice was starting to get loud and I didn’t want any of the office staff busting into the room, asking him if everything was okay...because frankly, it wasn’t. Nothing was okay for this poor kid! I wondered when the last time he could actually say he felt okay.

  Robert tried asking him, in a soft, reassuring voice, “Well, Philip, I just want to know why you think nothing’s changed if no one ever talks about it?”

  Philip pulled his T-shirt up over his head and rubbed, as if he wanted to pull it off. It seemed evident by the way his hands focused on drying his eyes that he might also be crying. His hands came down, and he tried to straighten out the T-shirt, apologizing. “Sorry, that must be kind of gross. Sorry, no one needs to see my whale of a stomach. Sorry...it’s just that I sweat a lot.”

  “Ah, that’s okay, Philip. I do it all the time. My wife is constantly telling me to stop using my shirt as a napkin.” This made Philip smile. “But Philip, really, I need you to help me and if you think what I’m doing is not helping anyone, that there is no change and kids are still treating ea
ch other—”

  “No,” Philip interrupted. “I’m sorry, I can’t speak for everyone. Look, what I mean is, no one is treating me any different, okay? I was wrong to say that. I can’t speak for anyone else. All I know is, I’m still Summo-chunky Chink, Phil-huge-jo...Blubber Butt!”

  “Really, Philip, kids actually call you that?” Philip slowly nodded. “Well, that’s got to hurt! I don’t know what I’d do if someone called me those names. I can’t say to you that I know exactly how that feels, because I don’t. But I do know the pain, ‘cause I’ve felt it, too. It kind of happened to me too.”

  Then came that wonderful, magical moment that can happen when two strangers find they have something in common! Just telling him I felt that same pain of name calling, too...Well, all the suspiciousness and anger in Philip’s face just melted away. And then I thought about Virginia’s class—those simple words on her classroom wall. BElieve plus BElong equals BEhave. And I wondered, how could I help this boy BElieve he BElonged?

  Robert asked him to sit down. Philip almost fell into the chair across from Robert. He came down so quickly and heavily that Robert momentarily found himself holding his breath, praying the chair would catch his voluminous weight. Because the last thing he needed was for the chair to remind him of his oversized body.

  “But Philip, let me ask you something. When was the last time someone called you one of those names, or any name that hurt you?”

  He closed his eyes and took in a large breath, then let it go. When he opened his eyes, he didn’t have an answer right away. He had to think for a moment but then said, “I’m sorry. What did you ask me? It’s just, I can’t believe anyone ever called you names.”

  “I asked you when was the last time someone called you one of those names or any name that hurt you?”

  Robert noticed Philip’s face becoming suspicious again, so he quickly explained, “The only reason I’m asking you that is because of something I found out when I was around your age, when I also felt picked on.”

  “Why, you were fat, too?” Philip was hopeful that maybe he wasn’t alone in this world of his.

  “No, Philip, I was never really fat. My thing was my nose and forehead. They grew bigger than my face did. And it didn’t help how my dad cut my hair then either. A bowl cut, I think they called it—short and straight in the front. And because I had this real big forehead, kids started calling me Frankenstein, or Eagle Face...well, any bird name they could think of because of my nose. But also, you see, I come from a big family and have two older brothers. When they were in school, they hung out with the bullies—the tough kids—and all the kids they picked on ended up picking on me when I got to that school. Well, picked on isn’t really what I would call it. I was pretty well hunted during recess, every moment of the day when there wasn’t a teacher in sight. And they were mean, Philip, really cruel and mean. I thought they were all so...well, not only physically but also mentally evil to me. So for every day in my eight years at elementary school, I had this feeling of being hunted down, hurt. But then, before high school, my family moved to another town where no one knew me. I got a fresh slate, you could say. But you know what? When I started high school, do you know what was on my mind each and every day, Philip?”

  It was obvious Philip had never had an adult share with him in this way, so he leaned forward in his chair and, for the first time, his eyes opened wide. “What, sir, what happened?”

  The door to the office suddenly swung open. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Sanchez, it appears that Andrew Hunter is not available to work on your project. Would you like me to see if there are any other students who wish to participate?” Mr. Bosco was oblivious to the intimacy being shared in that moment.

  Robert quickly stood up. “No, that’s okay, Mr. Bosco. Thanks for all your help, but Philip here believes he can handle all I need. And he looks pretty trustworthy.”

  Mr. Bosco raised an eyebrow slightly and smiled, playfully giving Philip one of those you-better-not-screw-up looks. Philip awkwardly pulled himself out of the chair and because he was leaning forward, as he stood, the chair tipped over. He turned around to settle the chair and tried to put it back at exactly the same angle it was before.

  “Well, Philip, that’s great.” Mr. Bosco smiled. “I’m happy for you, Mr. Sanchez, because you have one of the best technical minds at this school working with you. Did Philip tell you how indispensable he has become to our staff and that we sometimes ask him to come down to the office to help with our computer troubles? Now I hope, Philip, even with this work you are doing with Mr. Sanchez we can still count on you to help us here in the office?”

  This should have been a moment for Philip to be proud of, but he looked preoccupied with a whole new bout of perspiration that needed attending to, so Robert jumped in.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Bosco. From what Philip has shown me, I can see he is very responsible. So I really want to thank you again for your help and your school’s commitment to the workshops.”

  Mr. Bosco shook my hand and was just about to put his hand on Philip’s shoulder and usher us out. I felt like I was caught in one of those slow motion moments where something is about to happen and you have to leap into the air and jump across the room and yell, “Noooo...don’t touch him!!!” But then I saw Philip had anticipated that pat coming near his back and so he quickly took three steps to avoid any contact with his principal.

  “No problem. You’re doing some great work with our students, Mr. Sanchez, I only wish we had more of a budget so we could actually pay you.” Mr. Bosco shook Robert’s hand one more time. “So, okay then, I know you’ll be in good hands with Philip. I’m really looking forward to seeing the finished product!”

  Mr. Bosco closed his door. Philip and Robert were now alone in the hallway. Philip turned around and stared at Robert. His face looked full of a hunger for an answer to the question he’d asked before Mr. Bosco had come into the room.

  “What did you think, sir? What happened when you went to high school?”

  He asked it in such a childlike way. Like he wanted to know how the fairy tale ended. What was the happy ending? What did I think after feeling I was being tormented and bullied throughout my childhood? What did I think when I was transported into a brand new world without any of my tormentors or bullies around?

  Robert motioned Philip to follow him to the other side of the hallway where they could have a little more privacy.

  “You want to know what I thought, Philip? Well, remember I told you I felt like I had been tormented for so long and always heard so many ugly things said about me?”

  Philip nodded anxiously.

  “But none of those people were at that high school. So was it still really happening to me? I mean my father stopped cutting my hair in grade four. That was the time of the Beatles and rock and roll and I wore my hair longer for years after that. And who knew it would be wavy, just like my mom’s? I surely didn’t resemble Frankenstein anymore! And my nose, well, it’s big and curves down, but would you say it’s freakishly huge or bird-like?”

  Philip actually squinted and moved closer to Robert’s face to survey his nose. “Well, it’s a prominent nose sir, like on those Greek statues in the library. And no one makes fun of those!”

  Robert shook his head and laughed. “Thanks. I never thought of having a Greek god’s nose! Okay, anyway, so I’m this complete stranger to everyone at this new school, no one knows me, and there I was. I had this long wavy hair like a rock star and a Greek god’s nose and yet, you know what?”

  “No, I don’t know. What?”

  “I didn’t hear any of those bird or Frankenstein comments, Philip! Not one. I can’t remember anyone ever calling me names in high school, And yet, that didn’t stop me from thinking they did! See, I didn’t trust anybody. So, it was impossible for me to make any friends, right? I mean, how could I? Because I thought all these new people, well, they already didn’t like me. So, Philip, when I asked you when was the last time someone called you t
hose names, I guess I was just wondering if maybe you are doing the same thing I did.”

  Philip didn’t turn away. He didn’t look at the floor, but rather straight into my eyes, like he was in a trance. But it wasn’t a vacant stare. His eyes almost seemed to flicker. It was like I was watching a computer screen boot-up—flashing all sorts of different things. Once he blinked, he simply asked me, “So, Mr. Sanchez, what did you do then?” I smiled, because it was the very first time he actually addressed me by my name...

  “Well, Philip, remember what you first said to me few months ago, that people are people and people don’t ever change? Well, that’s exactly what I thought! See, back when I started high school, I was still hurting so bad and I always felt so...ugly...and just plain lonely because I always assumed everybody was still thinking bad things about me. And you know what, Philip—they probably did think I was a bit of freak, but do you know why?”

  Philip shook his head slightly.

  “Imagine the way I must have acted to them! I was so paranoid of every person I met and I had cast everyone around me—all the kids passing me in the hallways, all the kids in every class—as the bad guys. I was acting as if they were all horrible people who bullied and hurt me. Yet, they did nothing! Do you know who my biggest tormentor was? Me, Philip, me!”

  Philip lowered his head and pulled at his T-shirt.

  I could see he heard me, from the way he tugged at his shirt, meticulously trying to fix the creases he had put in it from wiping his hands and face, as if with each crease he straightened, something became clearer.

  “You see, Philip, I think people can change. But usually they only do it if they find a reason to change. And, back in high school, my reason was that I wanted to be happy. I wanted to have friends! And if I wanted that, well then, I had to stop being my own biggest threat. You see, I’ll bet those kids probably stopped bullying me years way before high school. And you know, if you asked me, I probably couldn’t even remember the last time I was called Frankenstein or Bird Face after grade four! But then, it didn’t matter because it had already made such a...such a profound lasting imprint on me—that I remained the victim—not to anyone else, but to ME. I was a victim to my own thoughts for so long. So that’s why I asked you when was the last time you heard someone say hurtful things to you. And ask yourself, Philip, how many are doing things to you? Is everyone doing it to you?”