Ramblings in the Night....Religion, Faith, God, & growing up Gay in the South, Part II

Ramblings in the Night…..Religion, Faith, God, & growing up Gay in the South, Part II

           

            Change is never easy. There are always growing pains with change. After I was outed, my whole family and some few friends were up in arms about finding out that was gay. Robbinsville being the small town that it is. The news that I was gay spread like wild fire and within a few days everyone knew. For some it didn’t matter. They still loved me and cared for me. For others, I being gay was unacceptable and they didn’t want to have anything to do with me. I had expected as much. But it still hurt, deeply.

            My best friend, Joel, who I trusted more than anyone wouldn’t even speak to me. We rode to church together for years. Worked in the churches bus ministry together. I was with Joel the night he got saved. We had just left church, and was heading to town to the pastors house like we did every Sunday evening after church. I could tell something was wrong. When I asked Joel what it was, the answer he gave me, shocked me to my core.

            Joel pulled his truck over at the garbage dump on snowbird. He looked at me and said, “I’m not saved. I’m lost.” Big ole tears streaming down his face while making this confession to me. I was thinking if anyone was saved and born again it was the young man setting in the cab of the truck beside me. I looked at my best friend, and said, “Joel you know what you must do to be saved.” We’ve heard Brother Jimmy preach on the subject enough. Plus all the other preachers that we have set under. All you have to do is surrender to the Holy Spirit, turn it all over to him. Believe that Christ died for your sins and accept his free gift of eternal life. I said, “Joel do you want to be saved?” Are you ready to surrender your life to God?

            There on the side of the road, in the parking lot of garbage drop off. I was privileged to see my best friend give his heart and life to Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit moved in that truck. I could feel its power. I could have ran a marathon by the time we could compose ourselves. We were crying. I ended up getting behind the wheel and driving us on into town. Once we got Brother Jimmy’s and delivered to good news. Everyone there was crying. It was a wonderful night.

            Now it was gone. My best friend, had left me. I felt like I deserved it. The betrayal though, made me angry as well. I hated my life. I was mad at God. I was mad at my church family. I was mad at my family. So I stayed away.

            A few weeks after my coming ordeal. Brother Jimmy called me. He asked if I would meet him, Grant, and Joel at the steakhouse in Sylva up by Roses. I said, “That I would, and asked what time.” So I met them. Joel didn’t come with them. Grant told me that Joel was having a hard time with this. I told Grant that it had not been a piece of cake or a walk in the park for me either.

            We ate out meal and talked about what the issue, “Me being gay.” Brother Jimmy finally told me that if I didn’t publicly apologize to the church for the “homosexual lifestyle,” and refrain from going to gay bars that he would excommunicate me. I had until Sunday morning to decide. If my stomach wasn’t already in knots as it was. My stomach was torn up after that conversation. We parted ways shortly afterwards. Both Brother Jimmy and Grant told me that they loved me and that they were praying for me as was the whole church.

            I could feel a twisting and tearing going on inside of me. I’m not sure if it was rebellion at being given an ultimatum or what. But I didn’t go to church that Sunday. If this was a test from God, I don’t think I passed. I know that I was fight of my life. The part of me that wanted to be true to myself was warring with the part of me that wanted my old life back. The life that went to church every Sunday. The life that never questioned what the pastor said, was anything other than the gospel. At times I felt like I was going to split apart.

            Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. I didn’t go to Robbinsville. I didn’t speak to mom. Then just before Easter, the Friday before Easter to be exact. I was in Asheville shopping. I was at Stein Mart on Merrimon Ave. I had a Lincoln Towncar and it had a phone in it. I was just leaving Stein Mart when it rang and I picked it up. On the other end was my Mom. It was the first time I had spoken to her in months. She wanted to know if I was coming home for Easter. I told her that I hadn’t plan on coming in. She asked me if I would. I told her that I would have to think about it. That I wasn’t going to come in if all she wanted to do was argue. She promised me that there wouldn’t be any arguing. She missed me and wanted to see me.

            I was in tears leaving Stein Mart. I loved and missed my Mom something bad. We had never gone so long without talking to one another. We were and are very close. I still love my Mom to this day. We don’t always see eye to eye, but I still love her and call her nearly every day. I called her later that afternoon and told her that I would come in on Sunday for Easter. I actually drove home on Saturday afternoon.

            She was happy to see me. And I had an ally in the one place that I didn’t expect. My step father. My step-father Jimmy, was on my side. Now that doesn’t mean that he liked the fact that I was gay. But he knew the close bond between Mom and me. He told Mom that if she didn’t get pass this that she would loss me forever. He is still your son. Now you have learned something about him that you didn’t know nor had any idea about. But if you want to have a relationship with him and have him in your life you are going to get pass the gay thing and see him as your son. And that is what Mom did.

            That doesn’t mean that she likes the fact that I’m gay. But she would rather have me in her life, than not have me in her life. And I wanted Mom in my life. She was very important to me. And so was the rest of my family.

            I only lived in Asheville a short time. Then moved back to Robbinsville. If and when I did go to church I went with Mom and Mamaw Pauline. They went to Long Creek Baptist Church. I knew most of the people there. And Ms. Linda was the mom of my childhood friends John and Jody. She welcomed me with open arms. I only remained in Robbinsville for maybe a year. Before I got a job at the University of TN in Knoxville.

            The growing pains of trying to figure out what it meant to be gay, was at times most difficult. Plus trying to navigate being Gay and Christian. Robbinsville didn’t have much to offer in that area. In order to protect myself. I moved away. I still wanted my family in my life. But I wanted a life as well. I needed to discover who I was. At that time there were know how to guide books to being gay. I didn’t have any gay role models. Ellen had come out but she was a lesbian.

            I found an apartment for rent in Knoxville. And moved in. I had a roommate, whose name was Mark. He was gay. I experienced the gay lifestyle so to speak. The bars, drinking, drugs, sex & partying. Made new friends. Joined a group called Dare2dv8. I dated and slept around. There was no such thing as a gay role model that I could find. Don’t get me wrong. I met plenty of gay people that I could look up to. But no role models. As the saying goes, “I was a gay young man in a Str8 world.”

            I went home often. I still wanted to see my family. I missed church. So when I was in I would go with Mom and Mamaw Pauline. I missed that fellowship. I missed singing in the choir. Even though I was gay I missed that closeness with God that I once had. Many time I felt I didn’t deserve to have a relationship with God. That I was unlovable and not deserving. My Church had turned it back on me. But that didn’t mean that God had. God still loved me and Christ died for me. And the Holy Spirit came into my heart and claimed me when I was a young lad. No, I’m not perfect, I made mistakes, but God stilled loved me regardless of all my faults.

            Then as luck would have it. I got a job working as a writer for a newspaper in TN. It was a gay newspaper, called Outandabout newspapers. Today is goes by outandaboutnashville. You can check them out at outandaboutnashville.com. The editor of the East TN bureau asked me to write an article about a church that was gay friendly that she had heard about. So after making a few inquiries I found out where the church was and who the pastor was. And called to see if I could come in for an interview. The pastor invited me to come to their Sunday morning service. So I did. I got to attend service and speak with the pastor. After I got home I wrote my article for the paper.          

            It wasn’t long after that the article was printed that several religious denominations became more accepting of gay & lesbian people. That one article lead to 7 or 8 more. Because I ended up visiting them all and interviewing not only the pastors but members of the different churches. Because of this I had a renewed faith that God still loved me. And wanted only the best for me. While most don’t see it as the natural order of things, love knows no bounds. Gods made us great and small, rich or poor, gay and str8.

            It has been 20 plus years since I first came out. Was my coming out experience traumatic and rough? YES… Do I regret it? Some days I do. And other days I don’t. Would life have been more simple and easy for me to have kept the real me bottled up and never to come out? Probably. Coming out today is for most not a life altering and traumatic. For some it still can be, especially here in the South, in the Bible belt.

            I was reading a book a few weeks ago, by one of my favorite authors, Alex Sanchez. The book is titled, “The God Box.” I bought it in the early part of 2016. Read it. And then read it again. If I had of had this book when I was coming out. It probably would have helped me tremendously. While the main character was wrestling with being homosexual during his high school years. I was seeing into my mind’s eye of my youth and high school and wrestling with being gay as well. I didn’t come out while I was in high school. I came out while in college. I understood the struggle and turmoil of what it meant to come out. For some it’s a piece of cake. For others if the stress and worry don’t kill you, then you might have a chance.

            Today my Mom and I still have a close bond. She has met a few of the guys I’ve dated. She has invited them into her home and she has even stayed in my home with me and my partner at the time. She has come to accept me being gay. She doesn’t understand it for the most part. But she loves me and only wants what is best for me.

            It has been over 10 years since I stepped foot in my old church and heard Brother Jimmy preach the word of God. The church welcomed me back and made me feel at home. I got to hear my choir sings those old hymns that I love so much and fellowship again with my best friend Joel. Love and Forgiveness go hand in hand. God said to love one another as Christ loved you.

John 12:34-35

³⁴ A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.³⁵ By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.

This for now is the end of this story. There are other parts that I might go back and revisit at a later date. Much still left unsaid. But for now this is enough. I know that God loves me. I have faith in knowing that. That is all that matters.

By: David M. Shuler

29JAN2017

Ramblings in the Night...... Religion, Faith, God & growing up Gay in the South part I

Ramblings in the Night………Religion, Faith, God, & growing up Gay in the South

            A popular statement when I was growing up went something like this, “American by birth, Southern by the Grace of GOD.” It was a song by country music artist Waylon Jennings. No surprise there. When I was growing up, Southern heritage, Religion, & God, were three areas that we took Pride in, in our daily lives. For many in the era that I grew up with, it still is a source of Pride. This new generation not so much.

            Some of my earliest memories are of my Mom reading stories from the Bible. Sundays were spent at the house of God. The many different Sunday school teachers taught us about the Love of God, Christ sacrifice for all mankind, Hell, and to honor our fathers & mothers. We could recite the ten commandments by age 3. Even before we could read. The Preachers would stand behind the pulpit and proclaim God’s word in the sermon. And the choir would sing the old hymns that would soften the hearts.

            My family was Baptist. That is how they were raised. It was how they raised us. There are several Preachers in my family. My Great Grandpa, many uncles, and cousins, were old time country preachers. They believed in and taught us in the inerrant, infallible word of God, the Holy Bible. King James 1611AV. Outside of breathing and eating once a day, it was all wrong and you shouldn’t do it.

            I loved God and Jesus. I loved going to church, and singing in the choir. I took everything that the teachers and the preachers said to heart. I not once questioned what they were telling was anything other than the honest to God’s truth. I gave my life to Christ at the young age of 10. Oh, happy days. I am going to heaven when I die. My sins have all been washed away. That is what the preacher told me, so I knew that it was true.

             I was faithful to God, and my church. I attended every service on Sunday, Wednesday, and Revivals. I took part in Church. I sang in the choir. I loved to sing. I was in all the plays that the church put on during the year.  I wanted to do my part, for the cause of Christ.

            Then around the time puberty hit, and things started changing, on the inside and well as the outside. I started noticing the differences, in myself, as well as in others. Boys and girls that used to hate and despise each other started looking at each other in odd and curious ways. Then boom, they would start dating.

            I had many friends, both male and female. And several girls were interested in a more intimate relationship. But for some reason that didn’t interest me in the least. I didn’t find girls sexually attractive. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I thought girls that were pretty were in fact pretty, just not in a sexual way.  I only thought of them as “Just Friends.” Still do even unto this day.

            I don’t know if my family suspected or not. I remember that a new TV show came on the air called Dynasty. We started watching it, as a regular Wednesday night soap opera. One of the episodes, the son whose name was Stephen came out as gay. My mom immediately turned the TV off and we didn’t watch it the rest of the night. I didn’t understand what had just happened. I didn’t understand at the time what the big deal was. Then my parents educated me on the birds and the bees short version. Boys are to date and marry girls. Boys don’t date or marry other boys. Girls don’t date or marry other girls. That was the short and skinny version.

            Shortly after that episode of Dynasty. The news started reporting a strange virus that was targeting gay/homosexual men. Shortly after that, I heard my first sermon preached in church on the sin of sodomy, or the perverted lifestyle of homosexuals. I didn’t consider myself gay or homosexual. I didn’t consider myself straight or heterosexual.  Yes, I was attracted to guys. But some of the stuff being reported in the news I had never tried or participated in.

            So, to protect myself I buried my feelings deep inside myself. Time passes as it always does. High school was a time of exploration for me. I was living with my Grandpa by this time. I was a walking bundle of hormones. All my friends were dating and having sex. I would take girls out, usually on double dates with my buddies and their girlfriends. But I never got serious when it came to girls.

            So, I bet you are wondering what the hell is all of what I just said got to do with Religion, Faith and God. Well I am building up to that…lol. Once I hit high school and was living with my Grandpa. I started to rebel against the teachings of my early childhood. Which is not uncommon. Young people tend to rebel against authority and try to stretch their wings, so to speak when they hit the teen years. I started letting my hair grow. And grow it did. I was half way down my back and curly. I got an ear ring. Which I should point out, that my Grandpa nearly killed me over.

            There was a conflict, a war being wages within my mind. The teachings of my youth were colliding and warring with the reality of my sexuality. I was taught to love God and put none other before him. To abstain from sin and those who are committing sin. Now I find that being homosexual is a sin and an abomination. I’m surprised that I was grey headed by the time I graduated high school.

            “The shackles of belief, when reinforced by fear, are difficult to break free from and rarely done,” by: Richard Paul Evans. Very true words. It makes a person think.

            Once I graduated high school, I tended to stay to myself. I didn’t go out. Most of the time I worked and went to church. Still I would set through sermons and hear the word of God and Preachers condemn homosexuality, sodomites, and the like to the eternal flames of hell. I would set there stony faced, while dying on the inside. Because I knew that I was gay.

            In the fall of 1992 I went back to college. I was moving into an apartment with my good friend Bryan Beasley. He was transferring from UNCA to WCU, and I was going to SCC. Bryan and I went to church together. So, he kept me pretty well grounded. Then he started dating and I didn’t. I worked a lot. Then I got to partying with friends, from Hayesville. And hanging out with the Sig Ep fraternity. I did pretty well for about a year. I didn’t drink. Then one night at a party the Sig Eps were throwing, a young girl named Melinda Mundy cornered me and two other guys into a drinking game. Things went downhill from there.   

            Shortly after that night a friend and co-worker named Anna, talked me into meeting her in Asheville, at a bar called Scandals. I hadn’t heard of or ever been to Scandals, so didn’t really know what I was about to get myself into.

            I arrived at Scandals at 10PM. Back then we didn’t have the GPS devices that we do today. So, I had to ask for directions. I made it though. I walked through the door and there was a ticket booth as you first walk in. The guy collecting money, his name was Ken. He asked me if I was a guest or a member. I said a guest, that it was my first time here. He checked my ID, and I asked how much it cost to become a member. He said $10 dollars. I said well, if Anna likes this place I’ll probably be back may as well become a member. Ken gave me a membership application and I filled it out and handed it back. Just before he buzzed me through into the bar, a man came up beside Ken and said David, welcome to Scandals. I hope you enjoy it. Just know that the information you provided in your membership application will never be shared with anyone not even the police. The man was Art Frier, the owner of Scandals, I later found out.

            Ken buzzes me in. I walk up to the bar and the bartender TJ asks what I am having. I order something sweet. I later found out that TJ was the head Drag Queen at Scandals going by the name of Aurora Borealis. I still didn’t know that Scandals was a Gay bar. But I was soon about to find out.

            I had just got my first of what would be many drinks that night. Ken stuck his head around the corner, and said, “hey David do you know what kind of bar this is?” I looked at him sort of strange, and said, “just a regular bar?” Ken said, “NO, it’s a gay bar.”  TJ walks up to look at the pole-axed look on my face and asked if I was going to be alright. I told to make me a double and keep them coming. And he did.

            When I came too, the next morning. I was in my bed with the worst hangover in my life. I felt like I was going to die. Bryan asked me, how my night was. After I finally got out of bed. I told him it was ok. Bryan where all we went. I realized right quick that I never did see Anna that night. I finally told him I didn’t remember. Bryan looked at me with a shit eating grin and said, would you like to know, where you were at and what you were doing? Dread seized my insides. He said would you like to know how you got home. I broke out in a cold sweat.

            Bryan proceeded to tell me all about my night even though he wasn’t there. Bryan’s fraternity “Theta Chi” sent all their pledges to Scandals to get the signatures of the bartenders and the drag queens. And of course, it had to be on the night I was there. Which the brothers of Theta Chi that brought the pledges to the bar, knew me, because I was Bryans roommate. The brothers and pledges brought me home, and helped Bryan get me in bed to sleep off the large amounts of alcohol I had consumed. Bryan knew where I was at, the whole story. I was mortified. I completely cut myself off from everyone and everything. I wouldn’t talk to anyone. I stayed to myself. Bryan was just about ready to kill me. I didn’t know how to deal with all the crap that was going on.

            I felt like I was about to have a nervous breakdown. What if my family found out? What if my friends suspect? What if my church finds out? I’m going to go to hell. My family will disown me. These were just a few of the thoughts running through my mind. What was I to do? I had no clue.

            But Bryan finally cornered me on a drive back home to Robbinsville. We were going in for the weekend. A mutual friend, named Andy, sort of spilled the beans to Bryan that I was gay. Andy called me worried that he had said too much. Sure enough Bryan called moments later. So our drive into Robbinsville was like a torture session. Not really but it sure felt like it. But after our talk, Bryan was like dude its ok. “My mom told me she thought you gay when we spent the weekend with her in Atlanta. Plus there is that Mercedes Lackey, book that you immediately fell in love with.”

            We talked about what if it got out in Robbinsville that I was gay. I’d be excommunicated. My churches belief was homosexuality was and is a sin. An abomination in the sight of God. And all too soon my worst fears were realized. Just a few months after I confessed to Bryan our church had a revival. I had missed a few Sundays due to not feeling up to enduring people’s looks. But after not going I got to missing church so I went to the revival on Wednesday night. I got to church and set in my usual spot. But I could tell something was off. Lis Stewart, kept looking back at me with evil and hatred in her eyes. I didn’t understand I had done to her to be getting those looks. But I soon found out.

            After the service was over and people were fellowshipping and leaving the church. My Pastor Brother Jimmy asked me to help him with something in the Sunday schoolroom. When we got back there the room was packed full of men, preachers, deacons, and I was the focus of their displeasure. They had found out that I had went to a bar, not just any bar but a gay bar. I felt like I had been ambushed. They just automatically assumed that I was gay because I went to the gay bar. I stayed in there long enough to hear them out with their ultimatums. I walked out the door and down the hall back to the sanctuary where Lis and Angie were talking with a few others. Angie gave me a sad smile and Lis the look of death. I held my head up and walked out.

            It didn’t stop there. I got home from school the next afternoon, and my mom had left and very nasty message on the phone concerning what some busy body gossip had said, that she heard concerning me. So round two begins. Mom was screaming and yelling. That people were talking and saying that I was gay. And how could she ever go back to church with people saying such things. It was horrible. After she was finished she hung up. I didn’t go home for months afterwards. Mom and I didn’t speak. My Grandma Pauline would call and make sure I was ok. But she acted different from the Grandma I used to know and love.

            My life had turned upside down. And the funny thing was, I thought that the people that would surely turn their backs on me, Bryan, and my other roommates, Gabe, Michael, Kenny, and Eugene didn’t. They gave me their support. I think it was Eugene and Bryan, who made the rest see that I was still the same guy. Still their friend through thick and thin. It was these guys who helped me survive though first few months of my coming out experience.

            Let me stop here, for this tale is long and the journey has not come to an end. There is much still to tale. 

Dear Papaw

Dear Papaw,

Twenty years have come and gone.

Life moved on, but we are never alone.

Your legacy still stands, through space and time.

I wish we could hit the rewind.

The songs you sang, hymns of old

Still ring true, the story to unfold

The example you set, the lessons you gave

Your faith in God, that our lives be saved.

Days come and go, in the daily grind

But thoughts of you, still flood our mind.

You are missed and loved

I wish you were here.

Now heaven is your home,

I long to be there.

It’s beauty so vast, the day never ends

You are rejoicing with family and friends.

No sickness or heart ache, in heaven so fair

No pain or no loss, not even despair.

Up in heaven you wait for your family, so dear.

With arms, open wide and a smile on your face

To greet your loved ones, because Christ prepared a place.

In Honor and Loving Memory of my Papaw Jim Eller

06JAN1916 to 06AUG1996

By: David M. Shuler

06JAN2017

RAMBLING in the NIGHTS.........The Love of Reading

Ramblings in the Night………The Love of Reading

            From a young age, I loved books. Even before I learned to read, I loved looking at the pictures in the books my folks bought me. One of the first books I ever received was a Bible story book. It was filled with pictures of different Bible stories that kids were taught in Sunday school. I can remember Mom would read me a story every night at bedtime.

            When I started elementary school at Robbinsville Elementary. There was a retired teacher named Ms. Ingram, who would come to the classroom once a week. She was a story teller. She never brought any books to read from. All of the stories were stored in her head. It was the best time of the week when she would walk into the classroom.

            Ms. Ingram would tell the most fascinating stories. Now you have to remember that this was in the early 70’s. She would tell the class stories called “Uncle Remus Tales.” These stories centered around a character named Brer Rabbit and his friends/enemies, Brer Fox, Brer Wolf, Brer Bear, etc, etc. These stories aren’t very often anymore. Because they are now considered risqué or even racist. They are said to refer to the days of slavery.

            Several years ago shortly after Y2K. I was shopping in McKay’s bookstore in Knoxville, TN. And came across a copy of the “Uncle Remus Tales,” It was a rare opportunity to own a copy of stories from my childhood. Ms. Ingram has passed on. So I couldn’t leave without purchasing the book. It has a special place in my personal library here at home.

            My Grandpa was the choir director at the church I went to when I was young. At an early age, he taught me and all his grandchildren the songs in the hymnals that we would be singing the following Sunday. Even though we didn’t know how to read. We would still hold the song books and act like we did. Singing brought great joy to me. I loved singing. I knew all the old hymns by heart by the time I was 5.  I was learning to read by age 4.

            But I had a problem. I could read just fine. But when I would talk I had a stutter. I’m talking Mel Tillis stuttering. It was bad. Trying to carry on a conversation took a lot of work. But now I could sing just fine too.

            My stutter became such a problem that when I started the 4^th grade in elementary school. I was placed into a special reading program. Again, I could read just fine. But my stutter was causing me all kinds of grief. Reading out loud was a nightmare for me. I would turn beet red. My eyes would start watering. I was so embarrassed, that I finally got to the point that I refused to read in class.

            Well while I was in this special reading class. The teachers saw real quick that I knew how to read. It was my damn stutter that was the problem. And not one of them knew what to do to solve my dilemma. And as the school year was drawing to a close, and no idea what to do in sight. They told me that I would be coming back in the fall. I hated the thought of having to be in that special reading class another year.

            About 3 weeks before school ended. A new teacher came to the class. Her name was Ms. Hayes. Ms. Betty Mae Hayes, was one of my favorite people of all time. She would call me Ikie pooh. Don’t ask why, she just did. But after spending 2 days with her in the special reading class. She had an answer to my problem.  

            The other teachers thought that Ms. Hayes idea was crazy. Even went so far as to say that it would never work. Ms. Hayes was old school. And most of the teachers in the special reading program were all young. Ms. Hayes told me to stand in front of a mirror each day for one hour and read out loud. I looked at her, like she was crazy. She said trust me. If you don’t wish to be in this class in the fall, do as I say.

            I got home that afternoon from school. And ran into the house and told Mom what Ms. Hayes said to do. Mom looked at me and said, ok we will tell your dad when he gets home for supper. And we did. Dad asked what I needed to do this and I said, books.

            So at that time there was a store in Andrews called “Lays” and in Murphy a store called “Sky City.” Both carried paperback books.  I could buy a book for .75 cents to $1.50. Not a lot for the time. If I did my chores, then on Friday evening or Saturday afternoon we would go to one of those stores and I was allowed to get 2 books. The books were classics like, “The last of the Mohicans” or “The Red Badge of Courage,” and “Moby Dick.”

            By the end of the summer I had read 52 books. Other members of my family, would buy me a book or two while they were in Andrews or Murphy and bring them to the house for me. I spent at least an hour each day over the summer in front of the mirror in my Grandpa’s bedroom reading aloud. The more I did that the better I got. But it was by no means easy. Those first few weeks were very trying. But with a little bit of encouragement, I kept it up all summer.

            By the time school started back in the fall, I had nearly lost my stutter. I did end up in the special reading class for the first week of school. But after the teachers saw the improvement I had made on my own and with the advice of Ms. Hayes, I was allowed to return to my regular class for reading.

            Returning to the regular reading class was still a nightmare for me. We would have to read an assigned book. Write a book report, then give that book report in front of the whole class. My stutter was gone, but not my fear of public speaking. By the 7^th grade I had a teacher name Ms. McIntosh. She was the best. She taught reading and language arts. Every week we had to read a book and give an oral presentation on the book that we read. We got 2 grades for that. One for reading and doing the book report. Then a second grade for reading our report in front of the class.

            Now let me say right here, that I had no problem with doing the reading or writing the report. But I wasn’t about to get up in front of the class and present the book report. I think I drove Ms. McIntosh crazy. I’d make a 100 for the report and a big fat 0 for refusing to get up in front of class and read it. So my total would be 50. When my parents found out, let’s just say that Mom beat the hell out of you first and asked questions later. I was more terrified of public speaking than I was Mom, and that is saying a lot. I was scared to death of Mom. Like I said, she beat you first, then asked questions.

            My Mom wasn’t a bad mom. She just expected me to do my best in school. But I was so shy at the time, I just couldn’t do it. Members of my family had to intervene. And Ms. McIntosh finally started asking me questions concerning what I had read. Making sure I had read the assigned reading and understood what I had read.

            I did outgrow my fear of public speaking. But I was in college at the time and had to have a little help from my Doctor. I’m sure most people would wish that I was still the shy guy that was scared of speaking in front of an audience. But not anymore. I am very vocal.

            Through the help and guidance of my Mom, grandpa, and my early teachers. I have a love for books and reading. I read over a hundred books a year. Every free moment I have usually finds me with my nose in a book. At present I personally own over 5,000 books. I have read them all. And many of them I have read several times. Family and friends think that I am crazy because I will re-read a book. Not me.

            Why write about reading. Most people find reading boring. Most young people today read only as a last resort. They can’t seem to keep their nose out of their smart phones. They are technologically smart. But don’t have a clue about life or the joy that can be found within the pages a good book. I guess I’m old fashioned. I read books or a book downloaded on a kindle or nook. I love to turn the pages and smell the book. Yeah books have a unique smell. And I love that smell.

            So take a moment, kick back, unplug, and unwind. Find a nice quiet space and settle in with a good book. Let your mind fly free and your imagination soar. You will be amazed at what you can experience, and the adventure to be had, while being lost to reality inside a wonderful book.

Written by: David M. Shuler

04JANUARY2017