Bloggin' Umholtz

Seeds of Change

         Someone stuck a head in the door. He didn’t remember who it was. The words, “there’s been another school shooting,” caused him to stop what he was doing and flip up MSNBC on the PC. He scanned the headlines, two deaths, Virginia Tech; the last two words caused him to glance down the hall towards his boss’s office. He could see him there, sitting at his desk, the office phone to one ear, and his cell to another. His son went to Virginia Tech, an engineering student, just like his dad. Other people knew also. They glanced through the glass watching him for some sort of sign. Wanting to know, but not wanting to know. Hoping, but afraid to hope also.

         MSNBC updated the story, more shootings, more deaths, in an engineering building across campus. He watched his friend, his boss; the phones never left his hand. Messages were starting to pile up, tacked to his boss’s door by a magnet. The emotion within lay buried as he tried to make sense of what was happening, tried to think everything would be all right. He wasn't so sure.

         Eventually, the numbers stopped rising. Eventually his boss heard the voice he wanted to hear. A collective sigh escaped as everyone got back to the business at hand. Still the story remained, sensationalized by a media prone to such actions to satisfy the needs of a society eager for sensationalism. He straed at the computer, unable to concentrate.

         He watched as his boss returned to work. He wondered why. He knew why. He felt why. He wondered why it couldn’t have been different? He knew it could have. He was proof of that…at least partially anyway. He knew some of the anger, some of the frustration, some of the depression.



         It was a good school, a small school, a college prep school, not far from his home, but far enough that he had to stay there, like so many others. It was a church run boarding school.

         He wouldn’t be there except for his grades. He was not a member of the privileged class. He was a scholarship student. He worked in the kitchen, a member of the servant class. The school wasn’t responsible for how he felt, still it did little to change it. Even if they had, he would have refused the help. His problems started long before. Teased in the elementary school yard, clumsy, inept, ridiculed for size and a disease he didn’t know existed. He became outcast, except for a few friends, and friends were not something he would keep close for a long time. High school would be different he thought, a new start, new friends, new beginnings…but it was just more of the same. He grew. He became bigger than his classmates and the bullied became a strange cross of bully and bullied. He used his size to protect and to intimidate, never knowing the difference…or caring.

         He was smart. At least that’s what they told him. He doubted it. He doubted a lot of things. He doubted the medication he took helped him so he stopped taking it. He wasn’t happy. He was sad. He was depressed, before he even knew what the word meant. He retreated to books, to fantasy worlds, to places where in his mind he could convince himself he was “normal”; convince himself that he was worthwhile, that he was the hero come to save the damsel in distress. It never lasted long. They still teased, they still laughed, they still tormented. And the anger grew.

         He had violent thoughts, not against other people, just himself. He thought of disappearing, running away, living off the land. He thought of suicide. He kept it mostly within, not showing his anger, his depression, and his fear… ANd inside, he was dying. It was a slow torturous death. It was a never ending spiral of torment.

         The school library was a sanctuary, a place where the laughter was silent, and the ridicule unspoken. It was located in the basement of the administration building. The tables there were round and like Camelot, he liked to think, everyone had the same right to speak or not speak there. One day, hiding in his sanctuary, he found himself alone at a table by the door. Most of the tables were empty. The library was not a popular place for the popular student. A girl walked in and sat across from him. He attempted to ignore her. He knew her name. It was Cindy. She was a year behind him in school. He thought she was pretty.he liked her smile. They sat there, each engrossed in whatever particular assignment they had been working on at the moment. After a little time had passed Cindy wrote something on a piece of paper and slid it across the table towards him. He looked at her. She turned her eyes away. He reached out an opened the note and read what it said. Glancing over at her, he shrugged his shoulders and tucked the note inside his book. They went back to work.

         Some changes in life are instantaneous. Some are brought on by crisis and some by sheer chance. Some are like tiny seeds, planted carefully, allowed to nurture, allowed to grow. Someday they will grow to be mighty and strong, some day the seed of change will have accomplished its mission. Such was this change. Such were the words written on the note.

         He developed a crush on Cindy and imagined a great life for the two of them. She in turn, had love for another, his best friend at school, one of his only friends at achool. His anger, his hurt, his depression continued. The downward spiral continued. No one seemed to notice. No one seemed to care. He felt the world closing in. He was certain he could never be happy. He was certain he was doomed to failure, doomed to live life alone. Why had he been brought into this world he often wondered? Why could he not find the happiness that so eluded him?

         The note and the words were always in the back of his mind as he stumbled forward in life. Battered and bruised he hung on. From time to time he made an effort to change things around, only to be beaten back, as he knew he would. Years went by and his friends came and went. New ones replaced old ones and he was not very good at keeping in touch. High school was replaced by college. College was replaced by work. Work was replaced by a career. The note was always there, in the back of his mind, growing, teaching, nurturing. For the longest time he wasn't even aware of it.



         He watched the relief on his boss's face as he got the good news from Virginia Tech. He thought of his wife and sons, his family and his success, and yes, his failures. He thought how different it could have been if it hadn’t been for the note. He stared at the story erupting on the computer before him and he wondered, he wondered if things might have been different if somewhere, someplace, sometime, someone had taken a few minutes to scribble a few words on a piece of paper and slide them across the table. If just one person had smiled, instead of teased, ridiculed and bullied. WHat might have been?

         The paper has long since crumbled into dust, but the words and the handwriting are etched indelibly on his mind. He need only close his eyes and he is back in that library, unfolding a piece of paper and reading,

          “Why don’t you ever smile?”

         He doesn’t know where Cindy is today. He imagines her happy, married, maybe with children of her own. He hopes the best for her. He wishes he could tell her what a difference the note has made all these years later. He wishes he could let her know that he is happy now and that he smiles every day.