EPISODE XXXIII - SNITCH OR STITCH

EPISODE XXXIII - SNITCH OR STITCH

(Those who have been reading my episodes in sequence, and following my personal life in historical context, I would like to pause for a second before going on to my next story and direct you to the welcoming notes of my blog. There, at the bottom half, there is a section entitled "Questions, Answers: Revelations to think about." in particular, I would like you to have a look at item #4, Indirect Message from The Light. "You will further be intrigued as to whether my stories are fact or fiction; perhaps a just a "Coincidence.") 

The library is more than a place of study. It is a community center, which evolves during the day following the dynamics of the outside world. At my local library, waiting at the doors most days is a short line-up of people eager to enter each morning. It is here that I find the inspiration for my next story.

It was late afternoon when I proceeded to set myself and my laptop computer to begin my next episode. I had already developed the theme of my next story but had some difficulty getting started. Contemplating, trying to organize my thoughts, I could hear the person next to me weep and choke in tears. I had initially been made aware of this person's presence, sharing the same desk with me, but as expected, I had tried to be as non-intrusive as possible. I could not ignore such emotional pain. I struggled with myself, trying not to "get involved" in respect of that young person's privacy. After more tears, I could not hold back, so I devised a way to interact. I asked for her permission to raise the blind, sheltering us from the afternoon sun. The young woman gestured with her right hand while holding her tear-soaked tissue paper, "Go ahead." I followed through with an intrusive comment, "Does it hurt?" She gasped for words and responded, "I don't know, I don't know!" and broke down into a further cry. I approached closer and asked if I can be of help. The young women remarked, "I cannot understand how people can be so cruel." Perplexed by this comment, I encouraged her to open up and get it off her system.

She explained that she was working in this office building downtown as a secretary. This was a large company which occupied three floors of the building with a common area, kitchen facilities on the second floor. Most days, during her break, she would take a walk from the fifteenth floor, down to the twelfth floor. She would on many occasions pass by the fourteenth floor in the kitchen area for a drink or a fruit from the refrigerators, where she stored her lunch. When some sales quota or goal was reached, it was customary now and then, for the staff in these departments of her company, to have a short celebration of sorts. This would often result in food being catered in. Following the party, excess food on trays would be left on the kitchen table for other staff members, who wished to have a snack. The cleaning staff would dispose of the remainder of the leftover food after everyone was gone for the day. 

The previous day, Lindsey had passed by the kitchen, in the late afternoon, and noticed a tray of food partially disturbed. This was evidence to her, that whatever event was to take place, had already occurred. She picked up a small triangular sandwich, ate it, and continued on her relaxing walk until her return to her desk. The following morning, upon her arrival at work, she was called down to human resources. She was told that someone had reported her taking food from the kitchen, which did not belong to her; Lindsey was devastated. She tried to explain that it was very late in the afternoon and that she had over time been told that excess food left there was for all the staff. She was very embarrassed and could not understand how anyone would take the time to "snitch" on something so innocent, especially to the Human Resources Department. Such a report would have a very negative impact on her career. She questioned that if she was in the wrong, why the person who was so concerned about the small piece of sandwich, not come up to Lindsay and bring it to her attention directly?

I consoled her as best I could, but her hurt was deep and painful. I advised her that it would be a good strategy, to purchase a platter of food, however costly. Place it in the kitchen area with a note, "From Lindsey Wong in section three, sales. Working with all the good people in this company brings me delightful joy. Thank you!" For a moment, her grief had lessened as she focused on how to implement my suggestion.  

That same day, outside one of the downtown centers, I noticed a woman whom I had known for some time, park her vehicle, and place a handicap permit on the dashboard. She was trying to avoid paying for parking. I knew this woman was more than physically fit because she was a karate expert. Still, I convinced myself that it was none of my business. 

When I returned to the library, the thought of Lindsey and her snitch did not sit well with me. My encounter with the fraudster woman, who was exploiting community support of our disabled, was gnawing at my morality. One week later, when I returned to the same local, where the fraudster's car was parked, I took out my phone camera and took a picture of the vehicle. I wanted to investigate further and make sure I was not jumping to irresponsible conclusions, which may cause undue harm. Perhaps I was wrong, and indeed this woman did suffer from a debilitating ailment I was not aware, and the permit was issued on her behalf. 

When I called the Department of Motor Vehicle Licensing, they confirmed that indeed, this permit was stolen, and did not belong to this woman. I was furious, to say the least. How could someone be so low as to exploit the least able in our community, the disabled? I now faced a serious dilemma, should I snitch her out to the police? 


The answer came to me immediately the next day, as I was listening to the news report on CBC radio about the results of an inquiry into the shooting deaths of two teens. When I arrived at the library, I read the following article: (TCDSB approves recommendations made by the inquiry into the shooting death of students).

As the article points out, it was the culture of “don’t snitch” mentality, among youth, which added to the community's volatile situation. Young lives were hopelessly lost to chaos. I needed to consult with the Judges of the Elysium Fields for answers.

As I faded away on my journey of endless creations, among the wonders of all wisdom, I entered this vast open amphitheater of marble crafted stone. It was dark, and I searched each step as I walked down towards its center. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness of this place, I realized that there was only one source of light, which illuminated this vastness. In the very center, I could now witness the image of a person holding a source of light, a candle which bathed eternity with radiance.  When I finally reached the stage, the glow of light astounded me when I noticed that the bearer of this candle was the great philosopher Aristotle. He addressed me:

" Φορέας Φωτός, της σοφίας, το φως που λάμπει είναι δυνατή επειδή ένα εκατομμύριο εργαζομένων που επιδιώκει τη φύση τους, νέκταρ σε συμβίωση με το άρωμα των πολλών. Κάθε σταγόνα μέλι κερί είναι εξίσου σημαντική με την πρώτη και την τελευταία. Χωρίς την κοινότητα, τη συνεργασία και τη συμβολή, δεν θα υπήρχε οργάνωση και το σύμπαν θα πέσουν σε απέραντο σκοτάδι."

"Bearer of The Light of wisdom, the light that glows is possible because a million workers sought in their nature, nectar in symbiosis with the fragrance of many. Each drop of honey wax is as important as the first and last. Without the community, collaborating and contributing, there would be no order, without order, love would not exist, and the universe would fall into endless darkness."

When I awoke from my deep travel to the Elysium Fields, I knew the answer to my quest; I will translate for our youth:

Aristotle, one of the greatest philosophers of our time, and founder of the ideals of Democracy revealed to me. It is not enough for citizens, young and old, to enjoy the freedoms of democracy. It requires vigilance and hard work, like the bees which work tirelessly to forage for nectar. Through their "communal and responsible work," they create beauty in the form of their wax cones, which we harness to light our way, from burning of this wax. Each drop of wax is essential for the flame to continue lighting. In our lives, we too have a communal responsibility to look after each other. The youth in the Etobicoke community, and all members of the city needed to "step up to the plate." To reveal the identities of those who had gunned down the two young teenage boys. This is one area where a "snitch" is really a "stitch" in the fabric of the community. We cannot depend on our local police force to protect us, when we are not ready to cooperate, and empower these officers, to bring criminals to justice. To be so low as to snitch on someone for having taken a small sandwich is far different from you to have witnessed a severe crime of theft, or worse still, murder. 

ITS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO SPEAK OUT!

The following video is one put out by the Ontario Government. Have a look if you have not already seen it.

I am not 100% behind the wording used in this video because, in a way, it discriminates against men, labeling males as being evil. One must realize that when a woman is exploited in such ways, they are not the victims of men, but they are the sisters, mothers, and daughters of men. Men who will have nothing to do with this type of exploitation.

Here is another: Report it, to stop it. 

I now had to contend with the hideous woman who was using a stolen handicap permit, to avoid paying for parking. I will not tell you what actions I took because one does not have to publicize "one's call" to civic duty. 

By Elias Leousis,

(Η αγάπη είναι το μελάνι, η σοφία είναι το μήνυμα.)

Love is the ink; wisdom is the message!

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