9On My Way really struck me hard in the heart when I first watched it. It is easily one of the best - if not the best - episode they have ever done. Suicide, bullying, depression, and desperation are unfortunate realities in our world.
Everyone, it does get better. It does. But often, it is hard to imagine how. People can be harsh and cruel, and even the people you think should be there to help you don't care, or don't notice. Talk to someonebefore doing anything permanent. Please. If you don't feel you can talk to anyone in your life, there are many, many suicide prevention hotlines, where you can call and anonymously talk through your feelings and difficulties. 1-800-273-TALK (8255) is the number for the American Foundation For Suicide Prevention, available in 150 different languages. For international persons, suicideprevention. wikia. com (without the spaces), gives any number of phone numbers and resources. You are not alone.
Joe Hart was still trying to figure out public school. Things were way different than at home. More crowded. People, each one with a different life, different issues, different backgrounds, all commingling in one, packed, loud, pushing, shoving, tangled mass. He was having his worldview challenged on an almost daily basis. Things he'd taken for granted were not true for everyone else. The tenets of his faith were being shaken. The God Squad mingled freely with gay people, atheists, the promiscuous… and they didn't seem to care. That had never happened to Joe before.
His first reaction had been knee-jerk. Try to make the authorities uphold some semblance of proper behavior. Dislike those who weren't 'his' kind of people, decline to mingle with those who weren't like him… which was to say, Christian.
"But that's not what the Bible says, is it?" he wrote in his journal one day. "Jesus didn't spend his time on Earth kissing up to the religious leaders. He didn't spend all his time with other Jews of his social class. He mingled with the lowest class of society. The rejects. The losers. The ones nobody else cared about, he did. He called them, first and foremost. The ones the world hates, he loves. He loves them most of all.
"How can I do any less?"
He prayed right then and there. In the middle of the cafeteria, he bowed his head and thanked God for his message. And then he prayed that God would give him the opportunity to put his realization into action. "I want to be a good Christian, God," he murmured into his hands. "And that means following in Jesus' footsteps. Give me the chance to be Jesus to somebody today."
The bell rang and the students filed off to their next classes. Joe wound the string around his small, leather-covered Bible, protecting the delicate pages from wear and tear before tucking it into his backpack. In the hall, he shared a smile with Mercedes and fell into step beside her.
"You get the assignment done?" he asked, and she rolled her eyes.
"Yeah. Just took me two hours to finish it. What did you get for question seven?"
Joe thought back. It had been one of the tougher problems; math had never been his strong suit. "Um… x equals thirteen. I think."
Mercedes made a face. "Then either you're wrong or I am, cuz I got forty-two."
"It is the answer to 'life, the universe, and everything,'" replied Sam, coming up behind them.
Mercedes groaned and punched him lightly in the arm. "You're terrible, you know that?" she joked, and Sam laughed.
They were still joking around as they took their seats, until Joe noticed that the teacher, Mr. Connor, was unusually quiet, looking almost stunned as he stood at the front of the room, nervously adjusting his tie.
His somber mood gradually attracted the attention of the entire class, and they quieted rather more rapidly than usual. Mr. Connor cleared his throat.
"Ahem. The, ah… the principal, Mr. Figgins, has an announcement he wants - he needs - to make before classes resume. I expect you all to give him your full attention. I - there will be people available, afterwards, if anyone has any questions, or, or, or needs to, to talk. Yes." He coughed again and then turned to the TV mounted in the corner of the room, fiddling with the buttons until it came on, revealing the AV club's idea of what a McKinley High logo ought to look like, the standard channel for their closed-circuit system. He dimmed the lights just as the screen flickered to reveal Principal Figgins, seated at his desk and looking very grave indeed.
"Students at McKinley High," he began, and there was such genuine emotion in his voice that even the rowdier students, prone to whispering rude things at the TV when the dark hid their identities, settled down. "I wish to put to rest some of the rumors that have been floating around our school."
Joe hadn't heard any rumors, but he didn't exactly pay attention to hallway gossip. He didn't have many people to gossip with, for one thing, and he didn't really care for it in any case. But, looking around the room, he saw several people perking up, looking more interested. Something was going on.
"We were informed this morning about a terrible tragedy. David Karofsky, a former student of ours, a friend to many of you, attempted suicide yesterday evening. Now, do not worry, he survived, and is in the hospital being treated as we speak.
"This is a terrible event with many repercussions. Many of you may have difficulty assimilating this. There are grief counselors on hand to speak with anyone who may need to talk, about this event or anything else that may be troubling you. What happened to Dave is terrible, and I want you to know that, no matter what you are dealing with, it is okay and it will get better.
"Thank you for your attention, and I release you back to your regularly scheduled class time."
The logo came back up, with room numbers for grief counselors superimposed over the top. Mr. Connor turned on the lights. "It's a lot to take in," he said, somewhat apologetically, "and I want to make sure everyone knows that it's going to be okay." Looking around the room, Joe wondered why the man had even bothered with the reassurance. Most of the students had gotten bored with the announcement before it was even half over and were talking, throwing notes, doodling, and generally messing about. They just found out that a fellow classmate attempted suicide and they don't even care. Not for the first time, Joe wondered if he'd made the right choice, coming to public school.
Still… God, be with him, and his family, he prayed silently, and tried to put it out of his mind as Mr. Cooper attempted to begin class.
"N-now, if you'll all turn in your books to page one hundred eighty-three, we'll go over the homework for last night, beginning with question seven. Who has an answer for me?"
"X equals twenty-one!" someone called and Mr. Connor nodded.
"Correct. Now, can someone come up here and work out the problem on the board…"
Joe was frowning at his paper when he noticed the thunderstruck look on Mercedes' face. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, quietly.
The singer bit her lip, nodded, then shook her head, quietly. "Maybe. I don't know."
"Did you know him? The kid who tried to kill himself?"
Again, she nodded. "He caused a lot of trouble for one of my friends before he left over the summer. I don't know what could have made him try it." She swallowed hard. "The God Squad meets this afternoon. I think we ought to pray for Karofsky."
Joe nodded. It was a good idea. "And… well, since you know him, maybe we ought to go to the hospital to visit? 'I was sick and you looked after me,' and all that," he said, quoting Matthew.
Mercedes smiled a tight, sad smile. "I'll think up something we can bring."
Sam leaned around from her other side. "Mercedes, why do you care? After what he did to Kurt?"
Mercedes turned to him with a frown. "Because he's the one in pain now, Sam. People who aren't hurting don't attempt suicide. And it's not our place to judge. Me and Joe are going to pray for him this afternoon. You can come if you want."
The blonde looked uncertain for a moment, but his face softened. "You're right, Mercedes. I'll be there."
Joe was walking past the locker room when he noticed an incongruous figure out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the center bench and just… staring.
Hart took three further steps down the hall, slowed, and backed up. The other kid hadn't noticed. Names and faces didn't always stick in his head, but Kurt was a recognizable figure in any crowd.
But this Kurt was different. It was like he wasn't even there in his head. Like he was lost. His face had the peculiar tight quality about it that was only associated with fever-pitch emotions, and even from a distance, Joe could tell that his muscles were taut as bowstrings.
If ever there was someone needing comfort, it's this guy, Joe thought to himself.
He's gay. You really want to go there?
Who cares? You're the one who wanted to put your faith into action. If now isn't the time, when is?
Decided, Joe eased inside, trying not to startle Kurt, who looked up with a half-stifled sniff.
"Oh. It's you," he said, warily. Joe winced. Yeah, I think I might deserve that.
"You… are you okay?" he tested.
Kurt shrugged. "Yeah. I guess." He still looked miserable.
What had Sam said about Kurt and Dave? There was some history there, not all of it good. Not much of it good.
Joe licked his lips, suddenly nervous. "Is it… is it about that guy? Dave K- Karsky? Kavski?"
"Karofsky," Kurt corrected. "Yeah. How did you know?"
Joe shrugged, leaning against the cool metal of the locker bank for support. "Just a guess. It's… it's not cool, what happened to him."
Kurt's face underwent a weird contortion, like somebody trying desperately not to cry, and turned away. "Yeah."
God, what can I do for him? I have no idea how to handle this.
What would I want, if I were in Kurt's place? Well, that was easy. Prayer had always been his comfort. Church had been his support group since before he could remember. Does Kurt have a church? Joe didn't know. But, then again, the God Squad was meeting in just a few minutes…
"I don't know much about your beliefs," he started, taking a deep breath and launching into speech, "but we're going to be praying for Dave at the God Squad meeting. You're welcome to come, if you like. In fact… I want you to come."
Kurt turned around to stare at him, blank-faced. "What?"
"Come to God Squad. I don't know what sort of history you two have, and I don't need to know. You're hurting, Kurt. I don't know you and even I can tell that." Kurt looked unconvinced, and Joe swallowed the rest of his words.
He hitched his backpack further up on one shoulder. "We meeting in room 108," he said, with a shrug and a small smile. "I hope I see you there."
His hand was on the door when a confused voice stopped him. "You do know I'm gay, right?"
Joe turned back. "Yeah. I do."
The look on Kurt's face was bewildered. "Then how come you're being nice to me? Even my friends haven't noticed!"
God answers prayer? Even prayers we don't know we're praying?
But he didn't say that. "What does being gay have to do with it?" he asked.
"Everything! Church people hate people like me! Karofsky tried to kill himself because people found out he was gay and tormented him over it! How are you any different?"
Joe breathed out a heavy breath. Kurt had cut straight to the crux of his whole internal struggle; everything he'd been taught about homosexuality being wrong versus Jesus' example of love.
"I think," he said at last, "that any time that people make others hurt for the sake of hurting them, it's wrong. Everything in me tells me that hating is wrong." He mimed a knife thrust to his heart. "It hits me, right here, when I see other people hurting. You. Dave. Anyone. And I can't let other people be hurt without at least trying to help."
"And you're okay with my being gay?" Kurt was incredulous.
Joe shrugged. "That's between you and God. It's none of my business. It certainly doesn't hurt me. But Kurt, I'm serious. If you want to come to the meeting, we'll be praying for Dave. And I'll be praying for everyone out there who's struggling with stuff like this. I've…" he cleared his throat self-consciously. "I've never had to deal with anything so - so painful, in my life. I want to do what I can to help."
Slowly, hesitantly, Kurt sat down on the bench again. "…thanks," he said, quietly. "I'm not sure if I'll come. I don't… well. Church and me don't get along too well."
Joe adjusted the straps of his backpack. "Good thing it's not church then," he said with a half-joking smile. "I'll see you later, Kurt."
"…see you."
Joe entered the hallway and walked slowly down the corridors. He had a lot to think about, and a lot to assimilate. But one thing he knew for sure. His world was growing.
Dear God, he prayed as he entered the God Squad's borrowed classroom. Be with Kurt. He needs you just as much as Dave does, right now.
Since I didn't do this at the beginning, I'll do it now. I don't own Glee, though I should like to. Reviews are much appreciated, but please keep them tasteful. I realize this is a heated topic, and I tried to address it in as respectful a manner as possible, while holding true to my own beliefs.
~ Roya