The Odd Duck Has a Soul
A few days ago I was late for a tutoring gig at our library and had just parked my bicycle in their rack. I was removing the cable lock from around my neck when I noticed someone walking by, maybe ten feet away. As I looked up, I gave a hearty “Hello” as I’m prone to do. I got a remarkably timid “Hi” in response. The kind you might expect from a person who doesn’t get out much. There were a few things that stuck out from this brief encounter and one thing that didn’t.
I would describe a somewhat burly figure who slowly lumbered by - maybe six feet tall with stooped shoulders. Age was roughly late teens to early twenties. They were covered by a coat of no discernible color. I noticed a full head of moderately long dark hair and a face that was hairier than most, but there was no hint of a beard or an appreciable mustache. And then there were the brown despairing eyes and an almost expressionless face. As I focused, I saw a feeble attempt at a smile.
At no point did I think, what a sad guy or what a sad woman. I just remember my overall response to encountering such a downtrodden, androgynous human being. What a terribly difficult life they must lead. I was on uncharted territory as I felt compelled to assign a gender identity to this person. How and where would this individual ever fit in? As John Bradford expressed so aptly, many centuries ago- “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”
Over the past few days, I’ve kept circling back to all the kids and adults I’ve known who would have so easily been described as different or “odd.” And for dozens of reasons. I could go through a long list - as I’m sure you could. They were and will always be, vulnerable to bullies and other insecure opportunists. Though they have varied in so many ways, they actually have one thing in common. They never chose to be different, any more than say we, would have chosen not to have any insight.
The above described encounter, has me thinking anew about the tough and cruel world that LGBTQ people live in. I remember my first encounters with two openly gay, young men who lived down the hall in one of my college dorms. Though I initially resented them cohabitating in my building, they were roommates and my views softened as I grew to know them. As with my friends, there were things I liked about them and things I didn’t. Funny thing, they could have rightfully said the same thing about me.
Over the subsequent years, as a physician assistant, I’ve had maybe a dozen patients who were gay. . . A really difficult concept for me to internalize, is the importance of recognizing that words can have unintended consequences. The original version of my first sentence in this paragraph was - “Over the subsequent years, I’ve had maybe a dozen gay patients.” It’s easy to think both sentences mean the same thing. But the intent is that they shouldn’t.
So many times, we apply a label to a person that focuses all our attention on that which makes them different than us. My unfiltered reference to a dozen gay patients suggests that gay was all they were. Should we consider the fact that each of those referenced had varied physical attributes, families, vocations, ethics, personalities, hobbies, and spiritual beliefs?
Could it be that they’re basically - like us?
I readily confess admiration for the folk who give their hearts to odd ducks. I’ve made my stab volunteering at soup kitchens, homeless shelters, etc. I remember Matthew 25 (“even as you did it for the least of these…”) but it hasn’t come easier over time.