Tim Barrus and the New York Times

Pam Paul at the New York Times always grabs me because she’s a talented storyteller, and often, her work sheds light for me, the reader, into spaces that are reserved by people who are elsewhere. Ms Paul presents to us a glittering vision of  a universe where if you follow the rules, the rules will themselves will be enforced by you. In my world, children were adults at twelve. To wit: The world described by Pam Paul is one I do not know. Another planet. I wore a hunting knife strapped to my leg throughout high school. School was not the point. Survival was. If your hair touched your ear, your head was shaved as punishment. The enforced nudity at the pool was handed down like law and caused boys who had been sexually abused, and there were a lot of them in this community, to hit the rabbit hole. Education: No one said college. It was obvious that university did not mean us. I had no idea what a collage was. I had no idea what an SAT was. What test. I had never seen a dorm room. No computers. No phones. The day I graduated, I had to show up at work, and and hit washing dishes on the late shift. The choices were eat or starve. Stay In Your Lane was a serious injunction, and anyone who broke out of their lane was punished because punishment was a way of life. Our crowd and their crowd is the stuff of literature. You mean to tell me, you only had one roommate. Just one. Any of our bedrooms could accommodate entire families. On the floor. On the ceiling. These were the people you had to find a way to live with. Never let your brother’s drug dealer spend the night. College never meant you. You never thought about it. These were the class of kids whose babies grew up to be cowboys. They do not make up the Serious Person’s Rules. They follow them. But only if we have to. I still have no idea what the names mean: Assistant Professor. Dean. Dean who. Royal Regent. Academic. – Tim Barrus