Crying Class. she never went into crying class unprepared. This week s homework had been to watch YouTube

Transcription

1 1 Crying Class Lisa always did her homework. The journaling, the rehearsal, the emotional exercises: she never went into crying class unprepared. This week s homework had been to watch YouTube clips of letters to dead pets or grandparents. The goal was to let students see what inauthentic grief looked like so that they would only display authentic grief. Lisa had watched two clips about dead cats (the worse one was titled Poem for My Dead Cat, and it featured a twelveyear-old who tried comparing her family s old cat to Athena for her wisdom and courage) and one about a grandfather who had fought in the Viet Nam War and killed himself. They were all very, very bad. She wrote in her journal that she was embarrassed for all of the people in the clips, and that made her think about how she might have made that one cop feel when he pulled her over for speeding. She hadn t believed that crying actually got women out of speeding tickets, but she d been progressing thanks to the crying class, so she decided to try it out. The cop had torn up the ticket, but she knew, looking back, that she had been fake in her crying. Lisa took her usual seat in class, sitting behind Karl, the old man who always brought up the fact that he would probably die alone, and in front of Aubrey, the mess of a college girl who was taking this course as part of some court order. Lisa opened her notebook and took out a pen. The last note that she d taken read, Cry, don t pout! She looked at it for a few seconds and then erased the exclamation point. Their teacher, Mr. Downes, looked at the clock, then went to the front of his desk and sat down. Crying, he said, is a practice, not a lack of control. He picked at one of his nails, in the absent-minded way that he usually did when he made one of his more striking points. Practice is something you do often, it s something you re good at. A lack is something that you do because you can t do any better. Mr. Downes stood. But that s exactly why you re here: so you can do it better.

2 2 Mr. Downes stood while Lisa wrote down practice = better. When she looked up, Mr. Downes was furrowing his brow and frowning. His face looked so wrinkled, so natural, that Lisa felt ashamed by her own failed attempts to cry in a genuine way. Still, she tried to remember that this practice was measured not just against Mr. Downes, but upon a spectrum, where she was above the bad criers on YouTube, but below Mr. Downes. And, unlike the dead cat kid, Lisa would get better. Mr. Downes let a single, quiet sob out. Behind Lisa, Aubrey blew a gum bubble until it popped. The air slowly wafted out around Lisa s neck. Mr. Downes put his hand over his eyes and let two more sobs out. After a few seconds of silence, he looked up again. Anyone, he said, why do we put our hands over our faces when we cry? Lisa knew the answer, but she was also trying hard to pace herself so that her attempts to demonstrate her knowledge and discipline didn t make her the butt of more jokes from her classmates. Although this class only met one night a week in the evening, she still felt awkward leaving class, seeing other students joke around while they avoided her or looked at her with a strange type of pity. After a few seconds of quiet from the class, Mr. Downes said, Oh, guys, you re going to make me cry. It was a joke that he d used before, but it still got a few chuckles. Lisa raised her hand. She saw Mr. Downes do a sweep of the class with his eyes, seeing if anyone else would participate. His eyes eventually settled back on Lisa, and he nodded at her. Go ahead. Lisa didn t even have to look at her notes. Most people are afraid of their tears. They don t want to appear weak, so they cover their eyes when they cry. Mr. Downes gave a quick smile that he then let drop. Very good, Lisa. And, if people generally hide their tears, then what does it mean when we let them show?

3 3 There was another silence. Lisa knew the answer. It was it shows that we re not afraid, and that will put us in the position of power. But she hated to always be the one to answer, especially after the longer pauses from the rest of the class. Eventually, Aubrey said, To creep people out. Mr. Downes laughed. That s one way of putting it, he said. It s more about power. You need to remember that. You don t just creep people out, you control the situation, because you play emotional jujitsu. Aubrey mumbled something that even Lisa couldn t catch. Lisa couldn t tell if Mr. Downes didn t hear it or if he didn t care. After every class, she wanted to go up to him and ask him why he didn t yell at Aubrey more. Or the class when they didn t participate and then laughed at Lisa for participating. But he was so in control most of the time that it seemed like he must ve had his reasons. Karl turned around to look at Lisa, then looked back towards the front right away. His eyes looked red. He put his head in his hands and looked down at his desk. There had been one good student towards the beginning of the course. A young man with long hair that hung over his eyes. He d dropped partway through. Or, he d quit coming, anyway. Looking at Karl, Lisa realized that the young man might ve killed himself. Mr. Downes began to pace in front of the class, his arms folded. Mr. Downes had a strange trait. He seemed handsome even though his face didn t look particularly attractive. It wasn t bad, it just wasn t one that you d say was handsome if you were looking at a picture of it. The delicate balance, Mr. Downes began, between communication and manipulation. That is what we must be mindful of. He stopped at the light switch and ran his finger around the plate. Andrea, he said, how do we preserve our emotional truth while being effective criers?

4 4 Andrea was a middle aged woman who would knit during class, who would never volunteer to participate, but who seemed to grasp the core essentials of the class. She also only ever wore jeans and a sweatshirt. She looked up from her knitting. It looked like a sweater, but Lisa couldn t tell how big it would be when it was done. It was red and blue stripes, like Ernie from Sesame Street. We find the tragedy in any event. Mr. Downes smiled. He looked a little sad behind his smile, and Lisa wondered if he was getting ready to cry. Maybe he was always getting ready to cry, just in case. Well put, he said. Can you think of an example from your clips from this week where you could ve outcried the person crying? Mr. Downes scanned the room. Anyone, let s let anyone answer this. This time, Lisa raised her hand without hesitation. Mr. Downes nodded to her right away. Lisa. One thing that I learned from this week s homework was the importance of timing. I saw one clip where the subject read a poem without weeping or even getting choked up, and then, as soon as he d finished, he burst into tears. It seemed very disingenuous. Mr. Downes raised his eyebrows, which pleased Lisa. Mr. Downes s reactions always seemed more genuine when they included his eyebrows. That s a very good point, Lisa, Mr. Downes said. How many times have any of us been put off when a crier begins too early or lasts too long in his or her weeping? Any other examples? A student two rows over, a slightly older guy who talked a lot about his ex-wife, raised his hand. Mr. Downes pointed at him. Go ahead. The man leaned back in his desk and let one are dangle down behind the chair. As I was searching for clips this week, I came across one that was about going through divorce.

5 5 Lisa watched Mr. Downes carefully. It would be easy to be patronizing with this one, but Mr. Downes had a way of correcting without putting you down. After the student had said divorce, Mr. Downes had put his right index finger to his lips, which he tapped slowly. The student continued. Some of it actually seemed like good advice, like trying new things so that you didn t see all these reminders of your ex. But the thing is that this person kept kind of sniveling the whole time, never actually crying. It was really embarrassing. Mr. Downes nodded. There was a pause; it seemed like Mr. Downes was waiting for more. The student just shook his head. Pathetic, he said. Mr. Downes pursed his lips. Lisa shifted in her seat and looked around. Karl had started to sketch something in his notebook, though Lisa wasn t sure what it was. I mean, the divorced guy continued, I get it, but, it s like, what are you supposed to do, just sit and snivel the rest of your life? Mr. Downes went to the board and picked up a piece of chalk. Exactly, he said. Crying is about knowing what to give and what to withhold. When you give, you can make people feel more comfortable. Mr. Downes began to draw a circle on the board. Now, I know that this might seem like I m contradicting myself. After all, just a minute ago, I was talking about jujitsu. Lisa looked over at the divorced guy. She couldn t tell if he was listening or if he was trying not to cry. Lisa couldn t believe how many times the students in this course didn t let the genuine tears come. She knew that she should be taking notes on what Mr. Downes was saying, but she also wanted to go the guy, to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him that it would be okay. And yet, Mr. Downes continued, aren t there times when you want to make someone comfortable and times that you want to intimidate or disturb them? Think about your boss,

6 6 lecturing you on why you didn t get a raise. Mr. Downes drew two ovals near the top of the circle. Or think about your parent telling you that you ve disappointed them yet again. He then drew a series of drips coming from the left oval in the circle. On the other hand, think about the spouse who hears that you ve lost a family member. Think about their anticipation as you don t yet tear up, as you re still processing that information. Help them to feel that they re helping you. Lisa was watching the divorced guy close his eyes and sit when Aubrey blew another bubble. This time, Lisa turned around and looked at her. Aubrey stared back, then shook her head, quickly and in a tight arc. Lisa turned back to Mr. Downes. He was drawing what looked to be long hair hanging down from the circle. But you re crying isn t just about them. It isn t about you, either, it s about successfully navigating the situation. That s what you re here for. Mr. Downes curved one of the lines that had looked like hair. Lisa was unsure of what it was. It could ve been the string for a helium balloon. Suddenly, he stopped mid-curl and turned back to the class. Mark, he said, pointing at the divorced guy. The divorced guy opened his eyes. He looked startled. Yeah? Mr. Downes said, Your ex-wife is not coming back. The divorced guy, whose name was apparently Mark, looked around. The other students weren t entirely sure what to do. Mark sat up straighter. What? Mr. Downes walked over to the desk and stared down at Mark. She s not coming back, he said. The man gave a bit of a laugh, then looked around again. Lisa looked around, too. Karl was frowning hard and Aubrey was covering a smile with one of her hands. The rest of the class was also looking around and shifting in their seats.

7 7 Never, said Mr. Downes. She s probably fucking some other guy by now, and you need to get over it. Mark glared at Mr. Downes, then said, Fuck you very quietly. Mr. Downes smiled. Come on, he said, just tell me that you can move past your ex fucking some other guy. Mark shook his head and looked at the board. Maybe he was trying to figure out if there was some clue in the drawing. Maybe even blowing him, said Mr. Downes. His voice pitched up as if he was trying to be helpful. Mark shook his head again and put his hands over his face. His crying was silent, but clear. Mr. Downes crouched by Mark s desk. Mark, he said, show us your tears. It s okay. Mark shook his head again, but then he took a deep breath, and he stood, lowering his hands. Mark cried for a good five minutes, rotating in a circle as he did. On his third turn, Lisa began taking notes. Pace your breathing, posture and Tears aren t always what counts. She stopped taking notes every so often just to watch. She realized that it had been a while since she d cried without being self-conscious. Not just since class began. She wanted Mark to be totally in the moment now. She tried to look at the tears themselves so that, if Mark did shift into performance, she wouldn t be able to tell. But the tears were hard to see. They were like slug trails, only visible from certain angles, and then it was more of a shine then seeing the thing itself. Lisa wanted to ask Mr. Downes about it, but she wasn t sure how to frame her question. She chewed the eraser on her pencil. After Mark finished, he wiped his eyes and sat. Mr. Downes gave him a high five and the class laughed, including Mark and Mr. Downes. The rest of the class was good, but it was hard for Lisa to focus. She felt tingly. Mark didn t seem like a standout student. She wondered if

8 8 that s why Mr. Downes picked him. The rest of the class, she didn t participate much, but nobody did. Mr. Downes lectured without much by way of exercises. That almost never happened. At the end of class, Mr. Downes said, For next time, I want you to think about some of your earliest memories of crying. Think about what triggered it and how you can get back to that. The class all wrote that down, and that didn t always happen, either. After class, Mark talked to Mr. Downes for a bit. They hugged before he left. Lisa packed her things and watched. She and Aubrey were the last two in the room. Lisa left the room, but hovered by the door. She heard Aubrey talking. I ve never seen anything like that. Class can be intense, Mr. Downes said. You know, said Aubrey, I was thinking maybe I could get a little extra work in. I know I ve been behind. You ll catch up. Lisa looked at the tiles on the floor in the hallway. They were beige with little swirls. I thought I could give you my number Aubrey, I have your number on my class roster. Lisa smiled and started to walk down the hall, as slowly and as quietly as she could. She heard Aubrey say something else, but she couldn t quite hear what. Lisa was almost to the door when Aubrey came out of the room. She was writing in her tear journal as she walked. Lisa ducked out the door as quickly as she could, but she knew that Aubrey must ve seen, which was perfect anyway.