First things first:
that a big gay lion's tired sigh
is so much more effective
than shouting at anyone. For what it's worth:
no, that was just
fucking stupid advice
that sought to tear apart
what had withstood even the test
of their form and GP tutor getting abused
right before their very eyes.
It's called real respect, sayang.
It's called a functional teacher-student relationship
that didn't even need Kristang or Altered Straits to survive:
it's literally just good boundaries
and what the next generation see when they look into your eyes.
Not fire, though it is there, and the hottest one might ever see in this lifetime;
not even that real respect, which comes only from never, ever breaking the values and principles inside.
It is humanity, sayang.
It is they, themselves
that they get to see:
all of their world, and their own universe, and all their own spacetime.
It is being so radiantly transparent
that even fear and shame become darklight.
It is sometimes saying
"I, too, have no freaking idea what just happened, or what is going on,
but that doesn't mean we can't work to make things right
together."
I, too, am made of an ego as light as a feather;
And yet I am a man-woman who never knew so much treasure
lay within Application Questions, and very intense tutorial presentations
and enough courage to even begin to talk about individuation, without pressure.
I died many deaths between 2019 and 2020.
I was cut apart into bits. Torn into pieces that betrayed
just how fragile even a magical giraffe can be.
Six beautiful classes
did not save me;
I still had to do that myself.
Rather, they did the next best thing:
they reminded me of who I was,
and how much I would always believe
in a better version of my own history.
In learning, always and every day,
that the most important gift a teacher can ever give
is to say
one day,
you will be a better leader than me.
Because one day,
in a day that is already arriving,
you will make sure that all of us
live lives that are utterly and ferociously free.
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