Thursday, December 26, 2002

I haven't updated in a long time.

Yes, I'm stating the obvious.

I HAVE been writing in that time. I wanted to share what I wrote to my 101 professor for my "final." I think it's rather relevant to my life situation right now. And it sums up my feelings about my previous entries.

~~~~~~
Kincaid,

I was just sitting down and thinking about this past semester, and I I have to say, I think I've learned the most from your class. It sounds trite - and I promise, I'm not kissing your ass for a better grade. But something rather eventful happened on Monday, and I think I reacted differently because I've been in your class. It just goes to show you that college really does change you.

One of my friends from high school was an avid mountain climber. We were in French class together for three years, and we also were in all the school musicals together. He was an amazing singer, a really quirky guy, and probably one of the most considerate people I've known. On Monday, he started scaling the Williams Tower, a skyscraper in Houston. He did this with a pick-axe and some resin. No suction cups. No safety equipment. Nothing. He climbed for almost two hours, but he had to stop. His hands were bleeding, he was tired - and he couldn't see any way to halt the pain. Excep
t to throw himself down.

He was on the 39th floor. He left a hole about a foot deep.

I watched the television footage of him climbing the building as it was happening. I didn't know who it was, and I just assumed, "Oh, that crazy freak. I wouldn't be that stupid." I blindly embraced the "other" mentality, a superior attitude. I bought into the "us vs. them" binary without thinking about my actions.

At about six, a friend of mine called and said, "Did you hear about Ryan? He climbed the Transco Tow..." and my heart just dropped. I had no clue how to react. And I felt extremely guilty - my dad and I had just gossiped about "the crazy guy on the tower"... and then it turns out that he was one of my favorite people from high school.

I went to the funeral yesterday, held at the church attached to my Southern Baptist high school. I expected hellfire and condemnation for the act of suicide. I mean, they were Baptists, crazy religious fanatics who didn't understand the idea of
compassion. I spent years listening to sermons on the evils of homosexuality, evolution, and liberalism while I thought, "I don't believe a word you're saying." Again, "us vs. them."

And again, I was wrong. Three people spoke - each of them showed that they loved Ryan. They said that God loved him. And they concentrated on his amazing abilities and his kind heart. And one read parts of Ryan's writing before he climbed the tower. Ryan wanted to stop the war on the children of Iraq. He wanted to climb the tower to achieve peace, both inside himself and as an amazing act for the world. He forgot one of his tools, something that would've made the climb so much easier - but he still wanted to do this at this time. It also proved that he didn't intend to kill himself - it was just a choice that seemed most appealing at his moment of pain.

I don't know what to think about all of this, even now. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand humanity. But, from the lessons learned in your class, I'm able to identify my own shortcomings in my thoughts. I remember the amazing books you assigned that also pertain to this subject... Girl Interrupted, the Virgin Suicides... and I'm glad I've read them.

I know I never turned anything into you. I was in the midst of writing my long paper when this happened... and I just couldn't go on. It seemed pointless at this moment of despair. Doing all of the reading and attending class were my only visible contributions to the class. It's hard to prove what you've learned... and it's hard to convey the depth of the impact of these thoughts. Until you come to a time like this and realize that I'm no different from Ryan.

We're all crazy. We're all haunted by demons. We all long to climb the tower.

Thank you, Kincaid. And thank you, Ryan.
~Jennifer Noble
~~~

It wasn't well-written. It wasn't particularly thought-provoking. But when I wrote that email, I was crying. At least it was heart-felt. Ryan deserves that much from me.