Life's Little Roadblocks

I had every intention of writing something light and humorous this evening. That is, until I got a note from someone I value as a friend. He is in his mid-twenties, a former student, and someone who lives with two opposing forces: an indomitable spirit, and Multiple Sclerosis. I have been sponsoring him for a couple of years now in a 100-mile bicycle race, from Philadelphia to Atlantic City. He is a dedicated dirt-biker, a hip-hip devotee, and incredibly talented artist. This year he may not be able to make the trip, as he is rapidly going blind.

My protective instincts are all fired up on his behalf, but there really is nothing I can do but be supportive. That is incredibly frustrating, as I am so very fond of this kid. I remember the first time he ever walked into one of my classrooms, pants dragging on the floor, baggy t-shirt, hat turned sideways. I thought to myself, "Oh, lord, how am I going to handle this one!"

I didn't have to worry for long. He became one of my best students, working incredibly hard to learn as much as he could. I still have a term paper he wrote for me one semester, for a Human Relations course. It was all about the inception and theory of the hip-hop culture, and he gave me one heck of an education in way more than the required four pages. He even included a CD he had made, a compilation of some of the best hip-hop artists and tunes, with lyrics included on separate pages so I could see what they were all about. It was an astonishing job, and I was very proud of him for his efforts.

Even when I did not have him in a class for a given term, I could count on him showing up at the door to my classroom, full of stories about his bike riding, or to show me some photos of artwork he was doing on commission - painting the gas tank of someone's beloved Harley Davidson. When I asked, as I always did, "How are you?" the answer was just as inevitable. "Best day of my life, Mrs. Williams!"

He is four years into his battle with MS. His parents have both passed away, and to my knowledge he has little family except a cousin, with whom he lives. He has built himself, however, a net work of friends that is as strong as a family, and he holds his head up high even as his eyes cloud over.

Tonight I am dedicating my thoughts to him, a young man of charm, energy, and wit, with solid integrity and an incredible attitude. Having been through cataract surgery on both eyes, and having looked at the world through clouds, I know a little of what he is feeling. If anyone can find a way through this, it will be this fellow.

To return a quote to him, "Love you, man!"