Blog 4: Curse Those Deemed To Be Upper Management

You can't see it, but just above this sentence is the first paragraph that I initially wrote for this particular topic – sparing the details, it had to do with the decidedly Disney-esque images that this prompt initially brought to mind. You know what I'm talking about – the first encounters at the Francisco Half-Way House are gruff, tight-lipped encounters; but then, over the course of one wild semester, their gritty exteriors melt away and we students learn to live, love, and appreciate the little things in a way we never had before! Oh look, there's that paragraph again.

But as to what I've actually learned there? Really and truly and honestly? I'm afraid that it falls short – by about an eight-lane-highway margin – from the picturesque, sweeping ideals that so plague the modern feel-good flick. Sure, the gentlemen have a great deal to say on a great many subjects. But when it comes to big pictures topics – like the demonstrably awful nature of society, and of prison, and of just the system in general – well, interesting though the anecdotes may be, Michel Foucault already sparked that particular nervous breakdown, thanks very much.

Here's what I have learned: a whole helluva lot about the gentlemen themselves. I know that Ralph has several degrees, all of which he was humbled by and grateful for – particularly Optometry, which he'd hoped to practice upon his release. The onset of arthritis quashed that particular dream, and the rest of the degrees are worth the unmarked side of the paper they're printed on, without a state ID. I have yet to see JC, another resident, without a grand-canyon-huge, log-cabin-warm smile plastered across the whole lower two-thirds of his face. The reasons behind the grin are both myriad and mysterious – but always firmly grounded. Suffice it to say that JC, given this second chance, is determined to enjoy each day in its entirety, come what ills may. There's quirks and tics and stories aplenty in the Francisco House, but you'll have to wait for the movie to find out the rest. What I'm saying, in this long-winded and rambling fashion, is just this: the Francisco House has taught me nothing new, but instead has brought me in contact with some truly singular gentlemen that I'd otherwise have simply missed.

As to what we have in common: mostly a shared distaste for the antics of government and the organizations it envelopes. There is a marked, shared suspicion of all things that cannot be boiled down to face-to-face friendships. Lockean philosophy in actions. It is this shared sentiment that has, in my opinion, most effectively bridged whatever gaps might otherwise exist between our life experiences. Damn the man, indeed. Damn the man.