Troublemakers

North Carolina was better...

But not by much, not at first. A friend of mine from high school had a place she wanted to rent out, and we were desperate to get out of Colorado, so we took the plunge. Just the three of us; Me, Garret, and his sister. We left a large 5 bedroom house with a yard, 2 cats, and a roommate I had also known since high school (she couldn't bear to part with the cats) for a 2 bedroom condo that would have fit neatly into the kitchen/dining room/front hall of the house. The flight wasn't bad, although we managed to lose the dog somewhere in the cargo area (he was found an hour later, perfectly happy and being spoiled for being so good natured).

Garret was very excited about the move. Said he was glad to get away from the girl in his closet who had beheaded her parents, and the talking poster, and Mr. Clean hiding in his mirror, and a few others he never got too specific about. All of this just in HIS room, mind you. The other things he saw in and around the house... some were okay and kind of fun to play with, others told good stories, and the one in the backyard made him sad. He'd never told me about anything other than what he saw in his room, so these revelations came as a sad shock.

His sister and I were just glad to get away from the looks and whispers about how we were somehow evil and wrong. All the good that had come from Guam, all the empowerment, had been sapped out of us. If anything, we had gotten smaller and weaker than we were before. Her therapist was good for her, he helped a lot, but it was a single drop of acceptance in a vast nor'easter of disdain. I had no therapist.

I had books. I had writing. I had video games. Those were my only releases, the only way I had to remind myself:

IT WASN'T MY FAULT.

I WASN'T LYING.

I WASN'T A BAD PARENT.

I WASN'T A BAD PERSON.

Ironically (and she will NOT be pleased with me for posting this), my decision to leave Colorado was in a major part inspired by something that happened to Garret's sister. At school. High school. I won't say which one, not that it would matter if I did, but just as a way of trying to respect my daughter's privacy as best I can.

She was between classes and had stopped at the bathroom. In the bathroom she found another girl trying to kill herself. She took the girl to the nurse's office and sat with her until an ambulance could get there to take the girl to the hospital. Sat with her because there was no nurse on duty; she had to call for the ambulance herself.

My daughter got suspended. Three days. Out of school suspension. For saving another person's life.

Why? Because school policy stated she had to go to class, report to the teacher, get permission from the teacher to go to the office, and report the incident to the office. By skipping all of that and rushing the girl to the nurse's office, she had violated school policy and "had" to be suspended for three days.

I called the school. No response. Went to the school. "Sorry, school policy is clear." Called the school board. No response. So, I called the school AND the school board and said I was withdrawing her.

I expected to get a call saying how I couldn't do that. Reminding me it's the law she has to go to school, etc. What did I get? The paperwork to sign and fax back for her to officially be unenrolled not only in that school but the entire district.

So, between THAT show of lack of empathy and all the other troubles we were having, moving out of the area was necessary. Garret was and is going to face bias his entire life. At the time he was blissfully unaware of it. I wish he still was. His sister and I, however, suffered extra because he was unaware of it. When she started suffering for being a good person trying to help another, I had to act.

North Carolina.

Its entire feel is different. We were surrounded by people who, although they didn't understand, didn't try to make us feel like failures. Who at least TRIED to meet Garret on his level, encourage me and his sister that we were doing well with him and ourselves. It was a boost we desperately needed.

It was hard. I had no job, most of our belongings were in transit, I had no car, we had nothing. Except a pool, walking trails, and friendly people to talk to. An older couple across the way who started out as stern, but quickly warmed under Garret's constant cheerful prattling (that as often as not made no sense to anyone but him), his sister's silent jumping in to assist when she saw a hint of struggle, and the fact we treated each other and them with respect.

We soon became known for that. Treating everyone with respect. Oh, Garret referred to everyone as "ma'am," and babbled on about video games and whatever else had caught his attention at that moment, and was almost overwhelmingly friendly, but what I heard most was how respectful and polite they both were. No matter the circumstances. How calm my daughter and I stayed. How we were always willing to help out "despite everything."

It was nice. A chance to breathe. To recover. To come to feel like we mattered. Like we made a difference. Like things were going to settle down, be better for us.

We should have known better.