third uncle has been playing frequently on shuffle; everytime this happens i can’t help but turn it up. it’s a blistering, feverish brian eno song remade by bauhaus, and listening to it reminds me of how awesome they are. i get nostalgic thinking about the very first time i heard bela lugosi is dead…the hypnotic, haunting minimalism. then, hearing kick in the eye (it was the first track on a goth compilation box set), how peerless it seemed at the time. peter murphy’s solo career wasn’t terrible either…

okay, alright, YEAH, i admit it, i was a goth adolescent. i fantasized about my day of emancipation, when i could smoke cloves, go to all the haunts (hyuk hyuk), and wear whatever i wanted. i still cringe when i think about the outlandish outfits, the accessories (you can be sure i owned at least one ankh), my one-track “art,” the whole shebang. it’s mortifying! as much as it pains me, i try to embrace the past and if nothing else, find comfort in knowing that it felt truest to my angst-ridden, morbid character. i threw out most of my t-shirts from back then, but i couldn’t part with the joy division or skinny puppy one. i still have my mixtapes and all of my sisters of mercy albums (to which josh said: “you must be embarrassed”). now the whole “culture” seems like such a ridiculous 90s legacy.

i can trace the origins of my goth conversion back to one singular person: lee, the YMCA summer camp counselor on whom i totally crushed when i was 13ish. he was a 20-30 something chinese dude with an accent, and was the most beguiling badass EVER. though a bit scrappy, he had a striking countenance, a subtle snaggletooth, thick black hair, walked with a swagger, and was never without his ray bans, leather jacket, and scuffed winklepickers.
doesn’t sound like your “typical” camp counselor, right? kinda aloof, but overall good at his job. what an anomaly.

recently i thought i had seen him on the street. it made me feel very, very strange.

i’m self-conscious and embarrassed about my absurd goth teenage self. it’s an exercise in humility, reflecting back on different periods of your life. what you were like, how you carried yourself, what you were trying to project.

in the end, it’s key to remember: ain’t no shame in that game.

my very first job was at agnews developmental center, so watching this audio slideshow overwhelmed me with nostalgia and sadness. it summoned memories that must’ve been filed away in dusty, forgotten boxes buried deep in the recesses of my consciousness.

please click here to watch

upon my mom’s suggestion, i applied to be a recreational activities youth assistant — it was a summertime position. i was 15, and had just finished my first year of high school. for the entirety of that summer, i carpooled to and from work with my mom, who would occasionally let me practice my driving during those commutes. we spent a lot of time together. hard to imagine what that was like.

as unappealing as a 8-5 job might be, especially to an adolescent, those were halcyon — albeit challenging — days that gave me powerful, poignant memories. i was part of a group of teens who tagged along with the rec leader, ladonna. her priority was just to make sure that the clients were being properly entertained, that the engagement / activities elements of their quality of life were being met. collectively we served as her helpers in achieving this ongoing goal.

mostly though, i think they just wanted to bring some kids around to liven up the place (it was kinda depressing and dreary) and to hang out with the clients.

i remember sweltering hot days, greasy fried meals and junk food from the canteen, making friends with other teenagers (we were a diverse, rowdy bunch), setting up huge unruly tents on campus for festivals, packing the van and buses with picnic and art supplies, general heavy lifting and healthy labor, riding in these vehicles along with the clients to parks, landmarks, destinations all over the bay area, watergun / balloon wars, witnessing serious seizures and temper tantrums, and most of all, just being with the clients. eating with them, playing with them, making arts and crafts with them, helping them.

they were characters from all walks of life. down syndrome, brain and spinal injuries, birth defects, autism, severe illnesses…the whole range of mental and physical impairment was well represented. i had a few favorites — some were real softies and charmers, some were eccentric, and others were moody loners. but i wondered about every single one of them. about their families, how often they had visitors, what had happened to them, or if they “born this way,” what lives they would lead if they didn’t have to be at agnews.

every day bore a heartbreaking revelation. sometimes you’d see parents visiting their children, as young as primary school kiddies and as old as middle aged. i dunno, and sometimes you’d sense this undeniable bond with a client, or this gutwrenching larger-than-life vibe by staring into one’s eyes. i know it sounds hokey, but i swear it’s true. i bet my mom knows sandra — the woman in the video. sandra is even familiar to me. i realize that this was an intense, serious gig, but we acclimated very quickly to the presence of children-in-adult bodies wearing helmuts, people who have spent their entire lives in wheelchairs, those who ingested food through tubes in their throats, and frankly, the handful of scary, brooding characters too.

i also met some incredibly inspiring people there on staff. i distinctly remember one time, we were on an outing and getting ready to have lunch. we always packed our own, but the clients had strictly regulated meals, and believe me, they did NOT look appetizing. think state-provided food: pudding cups with generic packaging and sandwiches that looked suspiciously plain. tom, the rec leader always with the guitar, grabbed one of these brown bags and totally dug in. he said, “if it’s good enough for them it’s good enough for me.”

okay, so maybe that’s a bad example, but still. you should’ve seen the way this guy interacted with the clients. it was on an incomprehensible level. straight up soulful and compassionate.

i shared some tender heart-swelling, tear-inducing moments with the clients, and classic wholesome, fun, coming-of-age summertime moments with my coworkers.

ANYWAY, agnews has a fascinating, eerie history. it started out in 1885 as an insane asylum (“the great asylum for the insane”) and evolved into a care, treatment, and residential center for the mentally and physically disabled. it has been threatened with closure for as long as i can remember. growing up, its impending demise was always regarded in my household with an “any day now” attitude. over the years campuses have closed down and operations have dwindled smaller and smaller.

it will finally be shut down this june. a former short-term employer of mine, and a long-term employer of my mother (who recently retired after 18 years of service).

man, i wish i could dig up the photos from that summer.