“THEY” Cripple Society Volume 1: Who are “THEY” and how do they do it? An Expose in True to Life Narrative Exploring Stories of Discrimination. Cleon E. Spencer
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them in his briefcase.
Collin bade him good night in a courteous manner and turned to leave the room. There was no reply. It had been a standoff indeed, from the beginning. Collin left the room, casually and unhurriedly, and went out to look for Owen Winslow.
As he entered the foyer, he didn’t have to look far to find Owen who now bounded towards him half smiling, half excited. The two met a safe distance from the lecture room door.
“You’ll have to excuse me for being so forward,” remarked Owen in a subdued voice, “for I did snoop on your meeting with Professor Yates, from a distance that is. I couldn’t hear the conversation, but the reaction was obvious, even from such a distance.”
“Come” replied Collin, “let’s go across the foyer a piece and have a seat, and we’ll see what it is you have in mind about ‘us’. In my whole life, you’re the first one I’ve met who has been so open about this matter.”
The two proceeded to an empty bench. Other students were scattered throughout, going and coming, talking, standing and sitting.
“I’m very sorry to be bothering you so this evening,” remarked Owen, “but I do think you can help us; you see we have a support group of fine cultured people, as we call them, formed here under the auspices of the Student Health and Counseling Services of this University.”
“Uh-ah” Collin answered disinterestedly, “that’s years behind me.”
“That’s what I expected, Collin, and that’s just the point,” Owen continued to press, “but you’ve make the grade. Our support group is made up of people like you, only much younger, who haven’t yet made the grade. You can help them I’m sure.”
Collin chuckled as he answered, “yea, I’ve made the grade. You saw what happened in the lecture room this evening.”
“But,” said Owen eagerly, “you did become a clergyman. I cannot help but surmise, judging from what happened this evening, that the going for you has been difficult at times, but you did make it, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, after a fashion I suppose I did make it,” replied Collin. “Are you the overseer of the group?”
“I’m the facilitator, I got it together, but a psychiatrist from the Student Health and Counseling Services oversees all our meetings.”
“Ugh,” responded Collin. “Much to my regret, in my younger years I had an ugly experience with a couple of psychiatrists, and after that, brief encounters with two or three others, till, with God’s help, I took my life back into my own hands. I have no desire to be involved with them again, not for my particular life experiences.”
Owen’s exuberance faltered as he said in a disappointed tone, “Aw, I’m sorry I bothered you with this.”
Collin was moved by Owen’s disappointment. “Okay,” he said, more cheerfully, “we’ll say I made the grade. What can I do to help? Would you explain your support group further?”
Owen became obviously happy. “We meet once a week,” he said, “room 405, of this building- just one floor up. We meet under the guidance of Dr. Eldren, a retired psychiatrist who offers his services to the Student Health and Counseling Services, no connection to the Psychology Department. You won’t have to worry about Professor Yates. Dr. Eldren is a very mature, understanding and friendly man - no problem for you there, I’m sure. Would you, I wonder, come along to the meeting tomorrow evening at seven? Dr. Eldren will explain the purpose of the group much better than I. Will you come?”
“Psychiatrists are years behind me,” responded Collin, “but you’ve aroused my curiosity so much that I’m all ears. Will it be all right with Dr. Eldren if I come along to the meeting?”
“I feel sure it will,” said Owen with renewed enthusiasm, “but I will contact him tomorrow and let him know about you.”
Collin asked of Owen further, “How does your wife fit into this, or are you married?”
“I’m not married yet,” said Owen, with a twinkle, “but I have my eye on a fine woman at present. She is a member of our support group. She seems to like me too.”
“I see,” responded Collin. “My wife won’t want to be attending the meetings, but she may accompany me on the drive here occasionally, and wait for me at the library. She has done things like that with me before. Anyway, please phone me by five o’clock tomorrow evening, and confirm that it will be in order for me to be present,” said Collin as he reached into his pocket for a business card containing his phone number and gave it to Owen.
The two shook hands, exchanged parting courtesies, and separated, Owen heading for the stairs to floor four, Collin taking the elevator to floor one and the door out into the street.
I may not find what I was hoping for in Psychology 3001, he thought to himself, but I may find it in room 405 - maybe! Hope to heaven I do.
Chapter Two
The support group met as scheduled on Wednesday evening at seven in room 405 of the Arts Building. This fourth floor was taken up mainly with faculty offices. It was a quiet area, with occasionally a professor or secretarial personnel moving about, as well as a student now and then going to or coming from an interview. Amid this rather private atmosphere, room 405 was set aside as a meeting room for use of staff or other approved groups.
Collin Seldon, in accordance with his usual practice arrived a little early, but the open door of room 405 revealed that three others were already present. He entered the room, and as he did, he entered upon a new experience in life - well, not entirely new, it was to be old and familiar content, but with a new approach and emphasis. Collin sensed that already, even with all it may take out of him, he was glad he had come.
“So pleased you came” said Owen Winslow, one of the three early comers, as he went to Collin and shook hands. “Come, meet Dr. Eldren,” he continued as he gripped Collin’s shoulder and led him toward the senior person present.
Dr Eldren gave a hearty hand shake. “Most welcome to the group” he said, obviously well pleased at Collin’s attendance. “Owen has told me a great deal about you already, even though he has known you for so short a time. He has great expectations for the contribution he feels you can make to our group - now I would like you to meet the youngest member of the club, Albin Anders.”
Albin was standing beside the doctor. He blushed slightly at the mention of his own name. Obviously shy, he shook hands with Collin, rather hesitantly.
“How do you do,” he said quietly and without the hearty exuberance that had been shown by the older men present. It was evident Albin Anders was very shy indeed.
Quickly Owen moved to his vacant side, the side opposite to where Dr. Eldren was standing, placed his arm around Albin’s shoulder, “Albin has become unofficially our prime charge in this venture,” said Owen as he affectionately ruffled Albin’s young shoulders with his powerful arm. “He is young, eager, and to date not too badly scathed in life. We hope to see him through to better days.”
Collin could not help but look at Albin and size him up. Young, twenty one years of age or so, he would guess; fair complexioned, blonde hair, average height, with a youthful body and appearance; striking to look at. Collin’s mind went into a swirl of thought and reflection. Past, present and future all sprang to his mind. Tears of emotion came to his eyes. Nobody would notice, he hoped. He fought it back, and kept it hidden as best he could. Yes, Albin Anders would need help and support from the strong arm of Owen Winslow - and many others, went Collin’s flashing thoughts. Life is not a bed of roses for Albin Anders, I’m glad I came, was his thought on the matter as three other persons entered the door.
Owen Winslow did the introductions again as two ladies and a man now joined those already present in room 405. “This is Gilda Emerson, and this is Donna Coyne,” he said as he turned to Collin. “Collin