senseless injustice of the accident, and the God who had seemingly allowed it to happen. Before long he began to feel an anger toward a world that seemed to be filled with so much senseless suffering, loss, and injustice. Somewhere, though, too, in the back of his mind, Don knew that anger, turned inward, had caused his father to spiral into a bitter shell of a man.
Don was already aware he had an anger problem. It had its roots in middle school when a group of boys had singled him out as a target for bullying. For most of seventh grade he had been pushed, shoved, and hit from behind. The boys had sought him out and harassed him in the hallway, at recess on the playground, and after school. In groups of three or four they would surround him and begin pushing him around. “Hey faggot, you want to fight,” one would say. Another would then say, “He’s not going to fight because he’s chicken,” in a mocking disdainful tone. The abuse would only end when a teacher would approach, or the school bell would ring. Don would then take advantage of this to push his way through the circle of bullies.
Don, who was now a wiry, muscular five foot ten, with chiseled good looks and sandy blond hair, had, in his middle school years, been small for his age. Later, trying to understand why he had been singled out he suspected it was due to his more sensitive nature, inherited from his mother, and his studious ways. Don’s academic ability had placed him in the “A Track” classes that offered college preparatory courses. Both Don and the bullies came from the same working-class background, but the boys that had bullied him were all in the “B Track.” This was the track for the students less academically inclined, who were expected to graduate high school but then pursue working-class jobs. Many would no doubt end up working for the town’s largest employer, the Ford plant. Others would work at a variety of skilled-labor jobs. Jobs that involved intelligence and ability but were often not given the respect they deserved by schools that prized academic achievement above all else. Don came to dislike the academic tracking system, for while it might be a good fit for some students, it could also pigeon-hole other students who might not realize their full academic potential until later on, sometimes not until college. Don had often wondered, given that he and the bullies came from the same background, if there had not been some jealousy or resentment of his placement in the academic track. Never fully understanding why he had been singled out for bullying left Don with a deep underlying insecurity about what had made him different. Had he in some way brought the bullying on himself? What had made him different and so vulnerable to such abuse and ridicule.The feelings of guilt and shame over his inability to fight back, were issues he would struggle with for years to come. His mother, finding bruises on Don’s back and realizing what was going on, wanted to go straight to the principal. “That will only make things worse,” Jim had said. “The only way for this to stop is for Don to stand up for himself.” “But Jim,” Berta had responded, “they always attack him as a group, he’ll just get beat up.” “Maybe that’s what needs to happen,” Jim would retort in a discussion-ending way. Berta had then whispered to her son to “tell the teachers,” but Don’s father, by this time, had already indoctrinated him into his narrow view of how a man should act, or at least what led to becoming a man.
Don did not tell his teachers about the bullying, nor did he fight back during the rest of middle school. He just endured the abuse as best he could by avoiding the bullies in whatever way he could. By his second year of high school Don had shot up seven inches, and he had grown a thick skin over the insecurity that had arisen in him because of the bullying. Much of this thick skin arose because of a decision Don had made soon after his growth spurt began, to never let anyone bully him again. By his sophomore year of high school this resolve had become fully internalized. The thick skin that had developed around his insecurity took the form of anger, and at times rage. When one of the former bullies during his sophomore year passed him in the hallway, shoved him and then said “excuse me” in a mocking tone, Don had shoved him back. When the bully turned back around and said, “Do you want me to put you six feet under,” Don stood toe to toe with him, and in a rage cursed him out. The other boy, caught off guard by Don’s behavior muttered, “You’re crazy,” and walked away. Another altercation occurred later that year when two former bullies began harassing him after school in the hallway as he was walking to the busses waiting outside. One shoved him from behind toward the other bully who was facing Don. A rage instantly welled up in Don that caused him to turn around, run at, and tackle the bully who had just shoved him. Then, as a crowd of students gathered round, Don straddled the bully and rained down punches on him, mostly to his face. A teacher, seeing the commotion, raced over and pulled Don off the boy. The principal suspended all three boys for a couple weeks. From that time on the bullies left Don alone. Don justified his rage by telling himself that his father was right, that this was the only way to handle people that tried to bully him now, or in the future. Deep down, though, Don knew that he had overreacted and that the rage he had felt would create more problems for him in the future than it would solve. He also knew that what had made it possible for him to fight back was a leveling of the playing field, essentially his growth spurt, and the fact that only two of the former group had bullied him in this case.
Now another layer of anger had been added. His anger at the world and God for the senseless loss of his mother and sister had expanded the cauldron of anger that roiled just beneath the surface. Without realizing it he had also begun developing a secondary defense. Don increasingly projected a cool, detached persona. If others shared in conversation something of their personal life, Don remained serious, cautious, and guarded, and would not reciprocate by sharing anything personal, particularly about his past. It kept people at an emotional distance, and could also be used in an amplified way to chill out people he wanted nothing to do with. This defense was a double-edged sword as well. It was making him into something of a loner, which again, deep down, Don knew was not who he was. He also knew that while his cool reserve might limit interactions that aroused the rage within him, it could not prevent such instances from arising altogether. Once such a provocation occurred the cauldron of anger seething, then erupting from within Don could easily overwhelm any self-control. Two such provocations had happened toward the end of Don’s summer job at the plant. On one occasion, when Don had arrived five minutes late. A normally brash coworker had chided him for being late. Don had immediately gone toe to toe with him and screamed into his face, telling him to “shut the hell up.” Fortunately, three other nearby coworkers were able to separate the two before their conflict escalated. In another instance, a coworker, not knowing of Don’s loss, had teasingly said, “Why don’t you smile once in a while.” This had prompted Don to tell him to “leave me the hell alone.” Fortunately, in this case, the man had backed off, saying repeatedly, “Chill out man, I didn’t mean anything by it.” By summer’s end Don had already begun shunning friends from high school. He didn’t consider this to be much of a loss as they had primarily just been drinking buddies. Don simply told himself that he had outgrown them.
All through his second year at the community college Don stayed increasingly to himself. He submerged himself in his studies as a way to distract himself from the raw grief that lay suppressed just beneath the surface of his consciousness. Despite this, some memory would occasionally be sparked that tapped into these feelings, bringing them to the surface and causing him to spiral into depression. What Don could not have known at the time was that his grieving process had stalled out. The feelings of vulnerability, helplessness, and the worthlessness, of no longer feeling loved, were so painful that any distraction was preferable, be it his studies or, when a provocation arose, anger. Not being able to come to any understanding of the injustices in his life, his anger, not unlike his father’s, was being used to project the negative energy that consumed him out onto others and the world. Don had found some consolation, though, in the two higher-level philosophy courses he took in his second year. The ethics course he took in the spring semester had enabled him to wrestle with questions about suffering and injustice, even if they didn’t offer him any ready answers.
Midway through the fall semester Don made the decision to apply to the seminary. Don came to believe that his mother and sister had become like guardian angels, their spirits watching over him. This helped him to recapture something the of the unconditional love his mother had given him in life, and offered some much-needed comfort. He had applied to seminary as much to please his mother’s
