Damn. This is brilliant and real and painful. And yet, you did have a rough childhood. So did I. So did everyone. Not like Bobby, of course, but pain is relative. What sends one person over the edge is a normal day for someone else. I didn’t realize this until I entered therapy and began to work through the dysfunction of my childhood. And again, it wasn’t “Bobby or Someguy bad,” but I’ve learned to not slip into the sin of comparison, which usually only results in pride or despair. I hope your essay helps someone push past social resistance to do the right thing for someone in distress, but I also hope that it doesn’t inoculate anyone from working through their own childhood pain. Dealing with our own pain, our own sin if you will, is so very unpleasant. Much easier to say: “I have nothing to complain about” and to let sleeping dogs lie.
And yet, your essay remains a very, very good piece of writing. Thanks for sharing. Peace.
I’ll have to make this clearer in my next piece. I don’t think we should just pretend bad things never happened or that we weren’t impacted by them, but I try to hold onto perspective. I also had countervailing goods that people in Bobby’s situation just didn’t. I had my grandparents. I was good in school. I was big so people left me alone. Those felt like small things at the time but they absolutely weren’t and I’ve found the balanced perspective is the one where I keep those in account. Also, as messed up as my parents could be they did still care for me. Even my mom in her own way. They just had a lot of their own problems they couldn’t straighten out.
History is, I think it is fair to say, full of the dispossessed, downtrodden and desperate who rose out of their circumstances—maybe even because of their circumstances—to achieve greater things than their forebears. I suppose this is a variation of the nature vs nurture argument. For the record I don’t believe either is strictly determinative; everything plays into the story of a Frederick Douglass, Abraham Lincoln, Genghis Khan, Oprah Winfrey, etc.
It is not a certainty, imo, that Bobby had to end up as he did. The odds were not in his favor, obviously.
To put it the other way around, many who had your challenges and advantages squandered their opportunities and made a mess of their lives. You and I know many such people.
Point being: your essay began with a title which, it seemed to me, focused on the idea of comparison. Without that emphasis it might have been more clearly an essay for turning compassion into action.
I think it is admirable that you want to keep perspective on your life and success; all of us should do so.
On a fundamental level I believe in the innate goodness and perfectibility of every person, and, by extension, the ability of cultures and systems to change. It remains our duty as quite privileged people to do all we can to eradicate the causes of evil in the world. Hopefully in the next generations or centuries or millennia we will learn to transform systems and cultures and ourselves from flawed and too often failing to healthy and loving successes.
I wish you great success, for you are certainly using your platform for good. Grace and peace to you.
The hurt that family induces because of ignorance and fear and shaming is why our society has much destructive motivation.
If we can not have loving supportive parents, can we have world peace?
Not passing on destructive behaviors and attitudes to our family only works if you accept the responsibility of knowing we are products of broken people.
It hurts to know that my personality, attitudes, and knowledge of the world formed by my experiences caused hurt to me and the many people I have related to over the decades.
There are many people like me, now aware of past anti-social attitudes and behaviors, regretting the bad choices, perhaps overwhelmed by the awakening.
The sad reality is that the responsibility you feel you denied Bobby was one of a million tiny miracles that had to happen for his life trajectory to change enough to lift him completely out of the hole he was born into.
We can't be there to save everyone. We can try to save someone, but they also have to be willing to be saved.
I know that, but I still would have liked to know I didn’t just do nothing. And remembering that feeling makes me do all the inconvenient things I’d still rather not do today.
The “voice of God” is trust the most is the one that makes me say “Oh goddamnit, well now I have to go and do that f—king thing.”
From your account, you didn't do nothing. You listened to him, showed him some attention. Maybe you diverted that attention after a time, but you (and others) still did *something* to perhaps give him a spark of "hey, that felt good!" Maybe he just wasn't able to understand how to do his part to keep that feeling alive.
I understand that persistent, whiny voice. It makes me do all the things I feel better afterwards for doing. Are we all born with that voice? Do some people just block it out? Maybe Bobby did. Maybe he just didn't want to do the work. Will we ever know?
Too bad it's real. But then again, it's always been real, even when the specific story was fiction. Thank you for the reminder against complacency. It almost never works, but it means a lot when it does.
Another brilliant and powerful piece of writing Señor Some Guy. I am always deeply moved by the depths of madness that seemed to have surrounded your upbringing that you so brilliantly portray. It is a testament to the strength of your character that you managed to not only survive, but seemingly intellectually flourish. My heart truly breaks for Bobby and those like him who are trapped in a tragic cycle of violence and despair.
Wow. This made me far sadder than I was expecting. You are a brilliant writer, especially when you tackle topics like this about which none of us wish to read. Now going to cry in a corner. Many thanks.
Bobby reminds me of the book “A Boy Called It,” although his story is probably closer to yours than to Bobby’s. In “It’s” case, a teacher noticed and came to his rescue. Teacher’s are Mandated Reporters; just his physical state should have caused a teacher to pick up the phone.
I also understand why you didn’t let an adult know. You were young (sounds like second or third grade), you were in a milieu that encouraged you and the community to “MYOB”. The only adult who might have helped you would have been your grandfather. I hope you have forgiven your young self.
Wow, one day you could write a book that could say way more about our nation's pathologies than “Hillbilly Elegy.” I hope it's in the cards for that to happen.
I think you should basically put together your most liked autobiographical posts together. I don't think they need to be connected, just placed in chronological order.
I am in the same position as you— I'm just embarking on an autobiography which I couldn't begin to think of publishing if my parents were still alive. You could go with a pseudonym.
As for finding an agent, I think your subscriber list is a great resource. Ask people to DM you with suggestions. If you've been noticed by Ross Douthat, he could doubtless steer you in the right direction.
Taking steps to enter a publishing world that is utterly foreign is another step toward terror. But you obviously know that mental health demands we take such steps.
Jer 17:9 “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?”
We had a Bobby type in our elementary school. No abuse that I knew of, but I still have a photographic memory of some other kid wailing on him in the playground for no reason. I regret doing nothing. We are such fallen people.
Unreal. Reading this is like having my conscience operated on.
Thanks Justin. That was the intended effect.
Damn. This is brilliant and real and painful. And yet, you did have a rough childhood. So did I. So did everyone. Not like Bobby, of course, but pain is relative. What sends one person over the edge is a normal day for someone else. I didn’t realize this until I entered therapy and began to work through the dysfunction of my childhood. And again, it wasn’t “Bobby or Someguy bad,” but I’ve learned to not slip into the sin of comparison, which usually only results in pride or despair. I hope your essay helps someone push past social resistance to do the right thing for someone in distress, but I also hope that it doesn’t inoculate anyone from working through their own childhood pain. Dealing with our own pain, our own sin if you will, is so very unpleasant. Much easier to say: “I have nothing to complain about” and to let sleeping dogs lie.
And yet, your essay remains a very, very good piece of writing. Thanks for sharing. Peace.
I’ll have to make this clearer in my next piece. I don’t think we should just pretend bad things never happened or that we weren’t impacted by them, but I try to hold onto perspective. I also had countervailing goods that people in Bobby’s situation just didn’t. I had my grandparents. I was good in school. I was big so people left me alone. Those felt like small things at the time but they absolutely weren’t and I’ve found the balanced perspective is the one where I keep those in account. Also, as messed up as my parents could be they did still care for me. Even my mom in her own way. They just had a lot of their own problems they couldn’t straighten out.
History is, I think it is fair to say, full of the dispossessed, downtrodden and desperate who rose out of their circumstances—maybe even because of their circumstances—to achieve greater things than their forebears. I suppose this is a variation of the nature vs nurture argument. For the record I don’t believe either is strictly determinative; everything plays into the story of a Frederick Douglass, Abraham Lincoln, Genghis Khan, Oprah Winfrey, etc.
It is not a certainty, imo, that Bobby had to end up as he did. The odds were not in his favor, obviously.
To put it the other way around, many who had your challenges and advantages squandered their opportunities and made a mess of their lives. You and I know many such people.
Point being: your essay began with a title which, it seemed to me, focused on the idea of comparison. Without that emphasis it might have been more clearly an essay for turning compassion into action.
I think it is admirable that you want to keep perspective on your life and success; all of us should do so.
On a fundamental level I believe in the innate goodness and perfectibility of every person, and, by extension, the ability of cultures and systems to change. It remains our duty as quite privileged people to do all we can to eradicate the causes of evil in the world. Hopefully in the next generations or centuries or millennia we will learn to transform systems and cultures and ourselves from flawed and too often failing to healthy and loving successes.
I wish you great success, for you are certainly using your platform for good. Grace and peace to you.
Am running all over this week but just want to say I love you man and keep showing up here with spirit because it’s always welcome.
Ooof ! Hits to the quick in all of us - thank you for this hard to read excellent piece of writing !
Thanks Emily. I considered it as a sort of pre-bummer for the next piece.
The hurt that family induces because of ignorance and fear and shaming is why our society has much destructive motivation.
If we can not have loving supportive parents, can we have world peace?
Not passing on destructive behaviors and attitudes to our family only works if you accept the responsibility of knowing we are products of broken people.
It hurts to know that my personality, attitudes, and knowledge of the world formed by my experiences caused hurt to me and the many people I have related to over the decades.
There are many people like me, now aware of past anti-social attitudes and behaviors, regretting the bad choices, perhaps overwhelmed by the awakening.
How do I resolve these fears and anger?
want one in
I some to belive
need thing me.
One step and one day at a time Bill. We can’t walk backward, only forward. We do the best we can because that’s all there ever is to do.
The sad reality is that the responsibility you feel you denied Bobby was one of a million tiny miracles that had to happen for his life trajectory to change enough to lift him completely out of the hole he was born into.
We can't be there to save everyone. We can try to save someone, but they also have to be willing to be saved.
I know that, but I still would have liked to know I didn’t just do nothing. And remembering that feeling makes me do all the inconvenient things I’d still rather not do today.
The “voice of God” is trust the most is the one that makes me say “Oh goddamnit, well now I have to go and do that f—king thing.”
From your account, you didn't do nothing. You listened to him, showed him some attention. Maybe you diverted that attention after a time, but you (and others) still did *something* to perhaps give him a spark of "hey, that felt good!" Maybe he just wasn't able to understand how to do his part to keep that feeling alive.
I understand that persistent, whiny voice. It makes me do all the things I feel better afterwards for doing. Are we all born with that voice? Do some people just block it out? Maybe Bobby did. Maybe he just didn't want to do the work. Will we ever know?
I was complicit. It’s okay. I forgive myself. But it was what it was.
And a great benchmark for future consideration (and action).
I just realized this sounds a lot like Saunders, minus his usual dystopian future and jargon.
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1996/01/22/the-falls
Too bad it's real. But then again, it's always been real, even when the specific story was fiction. Thank you for the reminder against complacency. It almost never works, but it means a lot when it does.
I promise I will read this at some point in the future! Kids are kicking my ass lately.
Another brilliant and powerful piece of writing Señor Some Guy. I am always deeply moved by the depths of madness that seemed to have surrounded your upbringing that you so brilliantly portray. It is a testament to the strength of your character that you managed to not only survive, but seemingly intellectually flourish. My heart truly breaks for Bobby and those like him who are trapped in a tragic cycle of violence and despair.
Yes. I was in child safeguarding for nearly two decades. This is real. And I learnt that taking these kids at birth is the only way.
I hope things are going well now, Billy.
Wow. This made me far sadder than I was expecting. You are a brilliant writer, especially when you tackle topics like this about which none of us wish to read. Now going to cry in a corner. Many thanks.
Thanks Dr. K. Just be nice to the next kid you meet who isn’t very good at making himself likeable.
This felt so much like The Bluest Eye.
Bobby reminds me of the book “A Boy Called It,” although his story is probably closer to yours than to Bobby’s. In “It’s” case, a teacher noticed and came to his rescue. Teacher’s are Mandated Reporters; just his physical state should have caused a teacher to pick up the phone.
I also understand why you didn’t let an adult know. You were young (sounds like second or third grade), you were in a milieu that encouraged you and the community to “MYOB”. The only adult who might have helped you would have been your grandfather. I hope you have forgiven your young self.
I try to keep a healthy balance with my feeling on it now. Yes I was a child. Yes I have a voice in me as do we all, that says to take the easy path.
Wow, one day you could write a book that could say way more about our nation's pathologies than “Hillbilly Elegy.” I hope it's in the cards for that to happen.
I don’t have an agent or anything like that and I’m always pretty concerned my mother would sue me if I ever wrote a book.
I think you should basically put together your most liked autobiographical posts together. I don't think they need to be connected, just placed in chronological order.
I am in the same position as you— I'm just embarking on an autobiography which I couldn't begin to think of publishing if my parents were still alive. You could go with a pseudonym.
As for finding an agent, I think your subscriber list is a great resource. Ask people to DM you with suggestions. If you've been noticed by Ross Douthat, he could doubtless steer you in the right direction.
Taking steps to enter a publishing world that is utterly foreign is another step toward terror. But you obviously know that mental health demands we take such steps.
Wow. Damn. Yeah. Thank you.
Thanks for reading Daniel.
Jer 17:9 “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?”
We had a Bobby type in our elementary school. No abuse that I knew of, but I still have a photographic memory of some other kid wailing on him in the playground for no reason. I regret doing nothing. We are such fallen people.