Dear Friends of Boundless:
When my father was teary-eyed on his deathbed in 1995, he told me a story of how, when I was a toddler, he would come home from work and upon receiving him, my eyes would light up the neighbourhood. He said it was one of the highlights of his life.
I swear to you we have a new kid up here who receives me the same way. He’s not been here long enough to use his real name, so I’ll call him Durag, for he cannot be seen without one.
I will focus more on Durag in a bit, because an almost accidental stroke of his awareness altered the course of the school this session.
Having obtained a rare 30-day visa from the Republic of Lisa (my wife) to stay uninterrupted at Boundless, I’ve had a chance to infiltrate the student population. Let’s be besties and hang out on the back stairwell; you and I, and gossip about Boundless kids.
Dylan (if you recall), the Grandmaster of False Exits, is graduating in six days. By his own admission, he’s been biding his time until the end. Having logged and lugged almost 200 days up here, the rose has fallen off the bloom. Notwithstanding, this Caesar shall return to his Rome ready to pounce. In his dad’s fledgling cleaning business. This may not sound glorious, but it is, I assure you. Dylan is ready for manhood.
Keir, God love him, arrived 20 months ago in desperate need of a shower and an ESL crash course. Alongside Dylan, he shall proudly don his mortarboard. To this day, I really don’t know why he was ever at Boundless. He was always effortless. A best friend to the pathologically shy. He shall end up anywhere he wants. I know this in my heart.
We have some newbies like A., who, without fail, delivers trinkets in my palms like she’s a devoted crow. She’s dropped grubs, salamanders, macromet, and a little flamingo figurine in my administrative palms. I will soon run out of office space. Inexplicably, unlike most students who take 5-50 days to finally buy in, it was love at first sight with A. An insane biology nerd, she’ll devour science class next session.
Back to Durag. He’s had a naughty past, but that was a while back and he was just being a moron. He has this magical quality of levity about him. Some people walk the earth trusting people until they prove otherwise. He’s like that. If you knew his history, he has every reason to be otherwise.
Durag’s demons do manifest occasionally and he can shut down. This has been especially the case with his nemesis, also a new student.
They are just at each other.
One day over a lunch sandwich, he confided his frustrations to me. If I was him, I would feel the same way. This new student is complex, and intensely annoying.
I asked him to consider something.
“Is it possible that X’s brain works differently than yours?”
Durag looked befuddled. But then his light bulb flickered on rather quickly.
“You mean he’s autistic?”
“Your word, not mine.” I say. “But his mind is completely unique and a marvel.”
“Maybe I should be nice to him.”
I tell him that may be difficult, if we’re being honest. We then, together, drew a distinction between niceness and civility.
Three students were in earshot of this chat. That number is enough to alter the course of a community. Using the back stairwell hotline to convey these insights, half the students started giving the time of day to X, and the other half cultivated an ability to shrug things off.
A Boundless teacher told me afterward that Durag shut down after the chat. I was incredulous. Why?????
Shame. Durag felt he should have seen this sooner. That he was taking things too personally. He came to me later that day and affirmed his new perspective.
The result? The session was set in a mold of kindness. It’s been cruise control ever since, replete with ping-pong, bicycle repair workshops, visiting bank vaults, amortizing mortgages and sneaking pumpkin pie into the bathroom with your pals at 11:00pm.
Thank you for supporting Durag’s transformation. That young lad has supported mine. It is the highlight of my day to be greeted by a Durag hug.
Warmly,
Steven
