We arrive on campus that evening at 6:45. Not having a car has its drawbacks and taking the bus is one of them, so I was grateful for Lucas picking me up after work. Thankful for casual dress Friday, I am still dressed in blue jeans, a black cotton top, and black sneakers. We make our way across campus quickly and head to a large two story building. Once inside, Lucas led me to an auditorium.
A good number of students are already seated so I take a seat in the third to last row. Lucas continues down the stage and up on the podium. While he sets up his laptop and notes, I scan the rest of the auditorium. The room is about half full but I count about 50 students and another group trickles in as I am counting.
One he finished setting up, Lucas walks to the microphone.
"Good evening everyone. I hope you are not too tired tonight. Let's finish up last week's discussion questions before we begin talking about assimilation."
Most of his questions, being rhetorical in nature, seem designed to make his students think, question and encourage friendly debate as opposed to having one right answer. I am amazed at how patient and challenging he is with his students. He has the ability to hear them out completely without interrupting and shows a great deal of respect for each opinion even as he counters a couple points of view. His voice is so even and composed, that when disagreements flare, he is able to resolve them without offending either party.
Once the lecture for the night begins I understand why he wanted to bring me here. He begins with a slideshow. He shows Native American children taken from their families and put into "boarding schools". Each of the slides shows two pictures. The first is on arrival at the schools and the other is taken sometime after. The time between each set of photos varied. Some of the pictures are months apart while others are only weeks apart. In all, the changes are heartbreaking. Each set shows the physical difference in clothes and hair but it's the face that shows real change in each photo. I look into the eyes of each photo and can see the change. The spirit literally looks as if it has been broken.
The last photo is mesmerizing. It is one of two young women. The left side of the slide shows both girls standing outside a modest building. Their hair is long and loose down their backs. Their dresses are simple, but they are covered in beautiful handmade jewelry. The girl on the right is younger and shy. She doesn't look into the camera but instead looks down at the dirt. The older girl on the left is stunning. She is not only striking in her appearance. Her gaze is such a contrast to the other girl. Her gaze makes the photo. She looks so confident and stares into the camera as if she had dared the photographer to take that picture. The picture on the right shows both girls again. The older is sitting in a chair with the same girl standing next to her. They are both wearing very uncomfortable looking dresses and have simple crosses around their necks and their hair is pulled into high buns. The girl standing looks broken. There is no other way to describe it. Her eyes are empty shells. There are dark circles under them and her cheeks are drawn. She looks a decade older. According to the photograph, the pictures had only been taken 3 months apart. The older girl in the chair has the same dark circles under her eyes and the drawn in face but the fire in her gaze is still there. She is still daring the person taking that picture. She has not been broken. I am drawn to this photograph. I have to know her story. I want to know how she was able to hold on to spirit while the other girl was so desperately broken. I want to know her secret.
I think back to my last relationship. I recall the months after David and that haunted look I wore for so long that my friends thought I was a danger to myself. David was a like a breath of fresh air that came right after one of the hardest times of my life. He became my life support when I felt like I was barely holding on. He became my reason for leaving. When he left, he took what I thought was my will to live.
I surprise myself as I mentally relive those events. The last time I dwelled on them was a little over a year ago. I curled up in bed for two days. Not to say that I felt nothing now. The ache was there for what I lost, but it is duller now. Tonight I am able to think about everything that happened without that sickening stomach twisting feeling that made my lungs so tight it hurt to breathe. I'm not sure if it is due to the time that has passed or from more recent events involving a very sexy professor I had impure thoughts about every time I look at him. I smile at those thoughts.
What also surprises me is how comfortable I have become in his presence. I no longer had to focus on breathing in his presence. I craved his presence and that scared me. With that fear, however, came a reassurance that he would not intentionally hurt me. I had never been spoken but I knew it deep down in my soul. The apprehension was gone, but I had to wonder if my attachment to him had anything to do with the dreams. What if I had never had them? Would I have had the same reaction upon meeting Lucas or would I have dismissed him as another client?
I mentally kick myself for letting my mind wander and focus on the lecture again. The stories are heartbreaking and, as I listen to Lucas' lecture and the student's questions afterward, my mind wanders again. This time it goes back to that last picture of the stronger woman. A part of me needs to know her story and knows that her story needs to be known.
An hour later, I sit and wait until the last of the students head out of the lecture hall then make my way down to the stage. I watch Lucas shut down his laptop and disconnect it from the projector and I am distracted by his physical presence again. He is only wearing a button down shirt and a pair of jeans but at that moment, he is the sexiest man alive. Then, as if he feels me watching, Lucas looks up just as I reach the stage.
"Hey." I smile and climb the steps up to the stage.
Lucas smiles back. "What did you think?"
"Very impressive but I regret to tell you I did not take notes."
He laughs. "I was only hoping to inspire you tonight, not turn you into a panicked student madly copying down notes."
I roll my eyes. "Please, you students did not look panicked to me."
