I approached the release of Luca Guadagnino’s Queer with high expectations, hoping it would offer a profoundly moving and memorable cinematic experience. The casting of Daniel Craig in the role of a queer man was particularly intriguing. It signaled a departure from his iconic portrayal of the suave James Bond and presented an opportunity to showcase his versatility and depth as an actor. Unfortunately, the film and its director fell short of these aspirations.
There was something contagious about a “riot.” Children who had never exhibited any behavioral problems suddenly became infected with hatred, anger, and rage and were transformed into destructive foul-mouthed monsters. It also infected staff. I remember being horrified watching two male staff members antagonize children through the safety glass laughing and jeering as they did so. I find myself thinking some of these same staff probably instigated riots in the first place to feed some warped need in their broken souls.
But it didn’t infect everyone. I remember one little girl who through two riots I witnessed was somehow immune. She was probably 8 or 9 and an avid reader. She would tip her bed over and push it into a corner. Then she’d drag her blankets and a book over and behind the bed where she would weather the storm. What was it about her I wonder that made her immune?
Recovery from a riot could take days. Children would first be shadows of their former selves and often exhausted. It took time for them to regain their humanity and be kids again. The trauma they likely experienced as a result of a riot probably took much longer to heal. For my part I’d sneak tootsie rolls into the classroom to give to the kids afterwards. I think I hoped that a sugary symbol of childhood might hasten their departure from the shadows and back to smiling normal kids again despite the horror of their recent experience.
On one occasion, however, a different doctor was on call when a riot started. She courageously went against the ordered practice and sent all staff into the unit. The children were invited into smaller groups and taken to separate rooms. This doctor made the rounds meeting and listening to all of them. When she arrived to meet with the group of children I was with, she started with the statement, “This place sucks.” And she was right- it did. She told them they had every right to be angry. She was candid and honest with the kids. She listened to them. She was kind to them. The riot fizzled out immediately without any monsters.
The female doctor was publicly berated by her superior for not following orders, and her job was threatened. Thankfully, years later the male doctor was finally fired and the hospital a subject of several investigations.
Inside each of us is a potential monster. Hatred, deceit, taking joy in the suffering of others fuels this monster and starves our humanity. But courage, empathy, kindness, honesty keep the monsters at bay. We have the power to choose which we consume, and we should judge harshly those broken souls who try to feed our monsters. They are broken, so they want us broken too.
I find myself thinking about the little girl who was immune to the riots and the brave doctor. Both demonstrated different types of courage in the face of peer pressure, and we need those types of courage right now. The words of another courageous woman also come to mind- Dr. Maya Angelou once said, “You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.”
There are too many painful events happening to too many in our communities. I hope we can each find what fuels our courage. I hope we stand up together to face those who try to break us.
