We Ride Bikes

79423 (part II)

Visiting.

What would I do?

I was listening to NPR's Morning Edition on my way to work this morning. It was news story after news story, until they got to their Friday segment - StoryCorps. If I'm not mistaken, it's a sort of oral history that is archived in the Library of Congress for future generations. I am posting a link (click here to listen) because I was so moved by this doctor's story. I believe it's in a Windows Media format, for ReaPlayer or if that link isn't working, go here, and click Listen. Or you could just read about it, but I highly recommend listening to the doctor tell the story.

The girl's condition was dire -- a sudden onset of liver failure -- and her family's hopes hinged on an organ transplant. But a donor for the girl could not be found before her condition had advanced too far for intervention.

Upon her death, the girl's family asked that their daughter's organs -- her kidneys and pancreas -- be offered for donation so that others could have an improved chance at life.

Stories like this often leave me asking if I would have the moral courage to do the same thing were it my child. Had the parents not said a word, not volunteered the possibility, the subject may or may not have been broached, but surely, none would blame them for not donating.

Could I do it? How would I feel about my decision afterward? Did these parents do the right thing? I've said it before, and I'll say it again, at the end of the day, have I done more harm than good? I hope these are questions that I never have to answer, but should the time come, I hope I am able to find the answers.

Genius, pure genius.

Sir (part II)

I was eager to get something posted the other day, and realized later I didn't explain the title.

It's been a while since I've been called, "Sir" or "Mr. Martinez." My students do both on a regular basis. "Sir" is actually the way they are supposed to finish any sentence addressed to me.

"Can I get a pencil, Sir?"

"What are we doing tomorrow, Sir?"

I start a class each day with a quote on the board. I ask someone to read it, and we try to figure out what it means. Several of the quotes are straightforward, others may take a little analysis - I only hope they'll think about them as they go about their lives in the free. Well, last week I used one of my favorite Paul Wellstone quotes: "We all do better when we all do better."

When I asked the class what it meant, they stared at the whiteboard, then looked at me anticipating a nudge in the direction of the answer. Then one of them raised his hand, and said with a touch of condescension, "It means, that we all do better, when we all do better, Sir."

I looked at the Juvenile Detention Officer who sits in class with us, we just smiled and shook our heads. He got it, but I'm just not sure he got it.

Benefit

Saturday night, Meredith and I attended a benefit at Club Dada. There is a project going called Hero to Zero; essentially they are trying to get homeless people into single occupant housing, then help them obtain and keep a job and provide a support system for them. It's a great project that the Dallas County Young Dems are working on in conjunction with Central Dallas Ministries and so on. The person behind all of this is a photographer named Hal Samples. He's got great stuff, and I highly recommend going to his website and buying stuff. Meredith and I got ready for this thing in record time, walked over to the bar and were not expecting to be photographed by the likes of Hal Samples, and I think it came out fairly well. I'm not sure what the rule is on posting his pictures on the website, so I am going to try to post a thumbnail, and have it link to his website.

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Note: I think it worked. Click the thumbnail for other pictures.

Sir

On my way out of the apartments, I stop and pick up 14 newspapers in English, and 2 newspapers in Spanish. I make my way out of downtown, on South Central Expressway - which is really only an expressway in name. There are three lanes in either direction, but even at 7:20, when every other highway and byway are stacked with cars, my path to work is wide open. I drive over the Trinity River and the only business that face the road are salvage yards and used car lots with razor wire.

A little farther, and on the left is a bar and barbecue place that's smaller than the house where I grew up. It stands across the street from two motels the likes of which, I've only seen in movies.

(Quick sidenote: There are very few times and places I've ever been where I was so unsure of my surroundings to the point that I was scared, or worried. Not that I'm some tough guy--really, I'm not--but more because I just don't ever feel that my life is in danger. I don't worry about being held up, or carjacked or anything. I would definitely think twice before coming around these motels at night.)

A little past the motels, a now familiar sign starts to get closer. "Prison area Do Not Pick Up Hitchikers" I drive under Interstate 20 and make a left at the next sign directing me toward the state jail.

It's a two lane road with nothing but grass on either side. The State Jail is not as scary looking as one might think. Most days I pass it without noticing. My trip to work stops at the Medlock Youth Treatment Facility. I have to identify myself and wait for approval to go through the drive through gate, and each of the 5 doors between the outside (the free), and my classroom.

I have two classes of 12 students. They are a reasonably diverse group, though, as expected,not representative of the population at large. Most of them are about 15 or 16, and all of them have violated their probation. Each 'resident' wears a different colored t-shirt (green, grey, black, or maroon) identifying him as a freshman, sophomore, junior or senior. This designation has nothing to do with education and everything to do with where they are in the program. Freshmen are recent arrivals; seniors are leaving soon. They spend a minimum of six weeks at each level and must be approved before they are elevated. Each level comes with more priveleges and benefits - not the least of which is they get that much closer to freedom. My class is a cultural composite - mostly current events, some life skills (filling out job applications, explaining what an I-9 and tax form are).

I'm trying to get on a regular blogging schedule for the first time in 7 or 8 months. Stay tuned.