Except.

It was a typical bus ride, until the voice behind me started to become louder than the rest of the voices. It started to increase in volume, and in the number of expletives, until it became the only sound on the bus. Everyone else stopped talking and was focused on the one way conversation.
"Look, "N-word." I ain't playin'. When I see you I got something for you...Im gonna hit you right in your mouth."
It went on, and what I figured I was hearing was a street rant from one guy on the bus to another of his gang, or posse, talking trash and threatening violence and retaliation. Strong stuff indeed, and not appropriate for the situation, but in a perfect world.... The bus driver heard it and was about to make a comment over the loudspeaker, when the words, "When your grandmother tells you to take out the trash, you do it, "n-word". Do you hear me?"
The driver paused, and it became obvious that this was a parent, a caring one, despite the threats of violence, who only wanted his son to listen to his grandmother, a woman who had obviously done a lot for the boy, emotionally and financially. "When your granny tells you to take out the garbage, you take it out. You understand me? You're almost sixteen years old and almost a man, and you know better than to disrespect my mama, your grandma, when she tells you to do something."
At one point, a young man of nineteen who was seated next to me, and in front of the man on the phone, spoke up, when the expletives were at their worst, and said, "Hey, man, there are kids on this bus." The man was quickly able to change gears, focus on the young man, and in a calm voice, said, "Please dont say anything when I am talking to my son." The young man backed out of the conversation, and it wound down, with the father telling his son, not yet a man, that he loved him and that he knew what the right thing to do was.
It made me think about parenting, and of a conversation I had had with the young man next to me, a dialogue that had occurred a bit earlier. He told me he was from a city in Alabama, where he lived with his parents. He was nineteen years old, and suffered from a disease like scleroderma or Palmoplantar keratodermas, which gives his hands and feet thick callous-like skin and underlying nerve trouble. It is enough of a disorder to warrant a disability, though, and the young man's parents had filed for disability on his behalf early on. Except.
Except that they were using the money he received, for his disability, to buy drugs ("everything in the book"), as he related to me. His father is hooked on crack, his mother meth and other drugs. Sounds like an ideal situation for a young man to fall between the cracks and into a life of drugs and apathy. Except.
Except that this young man wants more out of life than a constant high and of being a money tree for addicted parents.
He put a stop to the disability checks. He struck out on the road to meet his first girlfriend. She lives in Oregon. He lives in Alabama. They have a slim chance of making it work, given the distance involved. I know that.I think he knows that too, but he is making the effort. He wants to make something out of his life. He does not want the disability albatross around his neck. Because of his situation, he never graduated school or got his GED. He could be headed for a life of destitution and despair. Except.
Except, despite all of the obstacles in his way, he has the desire. Despite being small in stature, he had the resolve to speak up against the angry dad in the seats behind us. Despite the distance involved between him and his lady in Oregon, he has made the effort. Despite the pressure from his parents to continue being their personal ATM, he has managed to do things his way, and still manages to maintain a relationship with them...maybe the blood ties will be stronger than the chemicals that are polluting their thinking. They have a special kid there, and will see that, in time. Because their son wants more. And I think he will get it. It won't be easy, but as the cliche goes, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step." This young man has taken several giant leaps, and I wish him well. It was a pleasure meeting a young man named Justin, on a long bus ride, one day in August. It also was a different type of pleasure to hear a man, a black man, whose race has been so excoriated for having male "parents" who just plain don't give a shit, actually give a shit about his son, and how he grows up. Maybe there is more hope in this world than I thought.