the other day, i was three stepping the less-grimy stairwell in grandcentral, transferring from the 7 to the 6. in the mid-curve, between staircases, there was a middle aged dred, strumming and singing about how: "there must be some kinda way outta here, said the joker to the thief..."
dude behind me in a Peter Griffin tone, commented: "wow, this guys real good, he probably practices a lot."
he was right, i thought, it was the ancient wisdom i'd heard repeatedly from my yoga teachers in india - practice, practice, practice.
but then dude behind me qualifies his statement by saying: "oh yeah, he doesn't have to work, he has all the time in the world to practice. he gets his money for free and lives off the system. of course he's good..." dude went on to complain. i slowed down when i got to the black-gum pressed 4 5 6 platform full of bug-eyed tourists and tri-state workers, to check dude out. he had a caustic smirk on his face that matched with his suit and slain-animal leather.
i hear the gavel all the time, a friend of mine, during a gathering over food and philosophy, when the topic of work came up, was saying how he just didn't get all these people begging on the trains. afterall, they are fully able-bodied.
the 6, 8, 10, 11 o'clock news splays the images of the pathological drug dealer, in such and such projects, who shot a cop, who was heroically trying to fight crime. they don't tell you that pathological dude was unemployed for 2 years, that he dropped out of school because the teachings made him feel dumb, the kids, videos, ads made him feel like he just needed to keep up on kicks and jewels, that the only economics that was made available, that showed any interest, that didn't require a thousand resumes and no responses, that showed him any love was the drug economy, and that the previous arrest record that they (the media) keeps mentioning was for telling off a social worker who told his mom she was crazy.
the social workers and progressive lawyers might understand, talk about it with the people in their circles, but their circle is their circle, tightly surrounded by impenetrable class walls that don't allow for the human interaction to happen. the progressive caste might be secretly judging, as i heard some teachers do, about some of their students, about how: i understand that things are messed up, but by X talking the way he is, you know, not speaking in complete sentences, using incorrect language deliberately, he's only making it harder for himself.
teacher really might not get it. it's alright. you really might not get it. get that. it's alright.
but who knows, there is overlap, the lawyer might be from eighties l.e.s, scarfaced and all. she might be like the boricua prison guard sleeping with the brother serving 2 life sentences. she might've been barred by position, but soul diminished the inability to connect.
it's easy to judge, especially when you're privileged. nothing wrong with people having privilege. good for you. but not everyone has it like that. and the more privilege you have, the more tint you might have on the lenses you see the world from.
it's easy to judge whoever, wherever you are, dirt poor but finding an opp to hate at someone less than, at the dirty immigrants who are cooking that stinky food. the hate comes from within, from a deep disdain of self, from believing the fiction that has been constructed about you.
where-ever you are, you know what you gotta do. what You Really gotta Do. Do it. whether others approve or not doesn't matter. whether it fits the babylon advice of teachers and social workers, characters in movies or tv. whatever it is you gotta do to keep your head above water, to maintain as one of my homies used to say back in the day. Do it. nobody knows your story but You.
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