“THEY” Cripple Society Volume 1: Who are “THEY” and how do they do it? An Expose in True to Life Narrative Exploring Stories of Discrimination. Cleon E. Spencer
me how I arrived where I am in the business world, that would not be so easy a matter. Perhaps I can more accurately reveal that as I proceed with the story of my life’s experiences as a member of what now seems to be known to those present as the us group.”
There were chuckles throughout the group.
“You really have joined the club,” remarked Owen.
“Yes, I’ve truly joined your club, Owen, with the hope that people like us can somehow find a better way,” responded Brett.
Leo Aidan interjected admiringly, “seems to me that you have, at least for yourself, found a better way already, Brett. Your apparent accomplishments in business certainly indicate success against the odds.”
“It may seem so, Leo,” said Brett, “and I suppose in a sense I have succeeded, but in another sense I am a misplaced person.”
“Oh,” said Leo, puzzled.
Collin sought to relieve Leo’s perplexity. “Do you mean by a misplaced person, Brett, that you originally intended to enter into some other occupation in life, but somehow circumstances put you into the business you are in now?”
“Yes, that’s it, Collin, as you will see for yourself as I tell my story,” answered Brett.
Leo’s amazement was aroused again. He cracked a smile and quickly twisted his head in a gesture of wonder towards Collin. Then to Brett, “I can’t wait to hear this one.”
His action and remark instilled expectancy into the minds of all the members. Interest was running high in this unconventional group.
Brett was now at ease among his friends. As he prepared to pursue his story, the lines of strain left his forehead, and the furrow disappeared from his brow. Now a bright, wide eyed facial expression revealed the kind of person good people take to very quickly, and a certain type of bad people hate vehemently.
As Brett had mentioned at the end of last session, he was losing his hair. It was thinning back from the temples on either side, the centre part remaining a little thicker, but showing some thinning there also, even though it was combed high and to one side. Offsetting this scarcity of hair on top, was well groomed, comparatively thick hair on the sides, combed back in a sweeping manner to meet the equally thick hair of the back in a very loosely and irregularly formed duck tail. This black hair was augmented by a well shaven, yet shadowy facial beard area, the darkness of which was highlighted all the more by a white complexion. Below his slightly high forehead were two wide open innocent looking eyes, then a majestic, chiseled shaped nose, beneath which were larger than average lips that often and easily broke into a relaxed looking uncontrolled smile. All of this together with a body that was only a little less than average height, yet well within a satisfactory weight for his size, and despite the hair shortage, gave Brett the appearance of a person with appeal to well cultured people. The clothes he wore, although inexpensive were an indication that he had good taste. Yes, Brett was a fine looking person who stood out among others in public. It had already become evident to the group members that he was of fine character as well.
Having known Brett now for some weeks, the group members could not help but surmise he had been brought up on the better side of life, that is, with good grooming, culture and manners; also with appreciation for the good things of this world. His story was soon to confirm this.
“My father,” he began, “was a retail business manager employed by a large corporation with department stores across the country. He had a solid reputation with his employer, so much so that he could pretty well ask to be placed where he wanted to be and expect to have his request met whenever it was possible for the corporation to conveniently do so. So we moved several times during my school years. I mention this now and ask you to remember the fact because it will be of some significance in my story.
“My father was a good man,” continued Brett, “and my mother a genuine woman. I was their only child. I loved them both, and they loved me and did extremely well for me without spoiling me, contrary to what some people automatically expect with an only child. Our family ties were close. Small family though we were, we fulfilled each others needs in that regard. This aspect of life was invaluable to me as I faced the kind of world that lay in store for the kind of person I was. I learned very early in life what it was like to be one of us.
“One other aspect of life that was and is indispensible to me is my religious faith. That I could not have survived without either, nor could I now. I was brought up in this faith and in the Christian Church. My father and mother were ardent Christians, active in both church and community affairs, choosing and giving priority to those activities they considered to be most helpful to other people, particularly underprivileged people in various areas of life, including the sphere in which you and I frequently find ourselves.”
“We were living in a large city when I went to kindergarten. Although I had attended a nursery school mornings for a year before that, as far as I know it is of no special significance. To my knowledge things went well for me there, and I must have benefitted from it. But it was in my year of Kindergarten that I learned my first hard lesson of life. I remember it well to this day. It started me on the road to awareness early in life.
“My kindergarten class was double the usual class size, but we had two teachers who worked together as co-teachers of the class. I soon found out that one of these teachers liked me immensely. The other hated me just as intensely. At the time I didn’t understand why she hated me, or for that matter why the other teacher liked me. But, as young as I was, I did become fully aware of my circumstance, and learned in a childish way to cope with it, simply by associating myself more with the teacher who liked me and who treated me with respect, and, by avoiding as much as possible the teacher who hated me. Regardless of this effort of mine, she was able to put me down quite often; that is, to ridicule me in front of the class at every opportunity, to trip me up on an answer whenever possible, to enlarge the least bit of misbehavior into a major infraction of rules. If I had had this one teacher alone in my kindergarten year, I may have been damaged for life.”
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