Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Special Treat –  Bruce Newman

Reactors and Chain Reactions

Bruce Newman

As a boy he mimicked sports figures, actors and rock stars. Nothing necessarily wrong with that. He never thought much about it, only reacted.

            As a young woman she could always be found in ephemeral fashion. Nothing necessarily wrong with that. But she never thought much about whether or not the clothes really befit her; she only reacted to her desire for attention.

            In class he never raised his hand when the teacher asked if there were any questions, even if one burned just behind his lips. That is…until somebody else raised a hand. Then he and other stragglers would help draw the session to ridiculous lengths asking about hypothetical stupidities that had no real bearing on the subject. No thought, just reaction.

She never thought before sacrificing her dignity in a spring break gang bang. As it progressed she didn’t dare think because her natural reaction would have dropped her into deeper and deeper mine shafts of disgust. To think was to feel. So she didn’t. Reaction was all she could afford.

He never dared think as he used and cast aside women like hastily consumed lengths of corn on the cob in an eating contest. How could he? To think would have been to hear the voice of his outraged conscience chastening him for being everything but a man. To think and to hear would have meant to change. So he settled for reacting.

She never thought much, except selfishly, as she climbed the social ladder stepping ever upward on many heads. He never thought as he put in mad hours to be able to buy what he never had the time or stability to enjoy. She never thought as she focused on now as if later would never exact a price. He never thought about the trail of human napkins strewn in his wake that even a rock would know pointed to final loneliness. Many times thoughts presented themselves enclosed in reactions, screaming to be unwrapped to lead their thinker off some seemingly exciting but dead end trail. But each time they hardened themselves and plowed ahead, never thinking, only reacting.

Now old they objected to being told how to think and live by politicians and various groups who bullied everyone into showing the toleration they refused to. They objected to the increasing number of laws that hemmed them in on every side from living in any sense of real freedom. They resented that whereas once they were the center of attention, or so they thought, that now even when people looked at them they didn’t see them. If they disagreed inwardly with something they didn’t have the power to make it known beyond ceaseless bitching because they’d never let integrity develop muscles in them. If called a homophobe they accepted it. If told how to feel they offered no reply. Yes, a voice within wanted to speak. But it had been so long muted that it always got lost on the way to the tongue, swallowed up in a vague sense of unarticulated injustice. And there it remained like a sore that wouldn’t heal. Never having shown mercy they found none. They had always just accepted; accepted that prices just naturally rose without finding out why; accepted that disagreeing with gay people was discrimination; accepted that experts knew more than we all do; accepted that someone else would take care of real problems; accepted that their reality was reality. And now, when they find that all the time they’d been living in a denial they had refused to see because they had so much company doing the same thing, they wanted to think about it and see if they could fix it.

            But legs not used to walking won’t run. Feelings not used to exercising themselves in concern and empathy become numb. Caring about the right thing is hard when the focus was always you. The world moved too fast to help them straighten it out now. Much easier to sweep them aside than to help them change at such a late date. Because the people and society they wished would help them were the kind of people and society they’d helped create. Having depended so long on reacting they found themselves part of a chain reaction they couldn’t stop.

            But it doesn’t have to be.

Bruce Newman

Rbnewman55@netzero.net