Journal entry early 2005.

‘Now I have no problem with the disabled. I am an open-minded liberal sort of guy. I can stare at the handicapped without doing that sharp look away when they meet your eyes. I am proud of that. The staring. Its slightly unsettling for them and me but it proves something to us both, I think.’

This week, though, my patience was sorely tested. I started a creative writing class and in that class was a girl with Downs Syndrome. I had no problems with that. Writing is for everyone. Provided you can hold a pen, with your hand, feet, stuck on your forehead, whatever. To begin the class we all thought of an adjective to go with our name. It had to start with the first letter of our first name. I chose terrific. D.S. Beth chose bubbly. Bubbly Beth. But when it came time to try and remember each other’s names, aided by the adjectives, she called me terrible Tom. What!? Excuse me, I chose terrific. I let that one go as I told you before, I am comfortable with the disabled.’

Later in the class we had to pair up. Guess who I got? Yes, you are correct. Bubbly Beth. We had to interview each other with a view to writing the details gleaned up into either a journalistic or novelistic style. I asked a lot of questions trying hard to get the balance right. How many times could I ask her to repeat herself or speak up, without becoming rude? From the mumbled responses I thought I had sifted a nice amount of information to write up. I tactfully didn’t mention her one big drawback.’

Not her though. She asked me all about my life, family, etc, then proceeded to rip me apart in her writing. Not once mentioning any of the nice details that make a person. Also, all the while calling me, terrible Tom.’

This is a synopsis of her battering of me.’

“Terrible Tom has a skinny, wiry frame some would call lanky. He has a large brown mop of hair flapping in his face. He has probably never worn formal clothes in his life and never will. Just jeans and a T-Shirt.” And on…

‘I had no comeback. I could have lost my liberal standing in the class if I had ripped into the girl. That’s life I suppose. Swings and roundabouts. We beat them to the acrobat jobs but they can just rip it out of us with impunity.’