Two Young Boys from Bellarmine

“The world is charged with the grandeur of God….”
“Glory be to God for dappled things–”
— Gerard Manley Hopkins (1)

Perhaps I should say ( “Two Young” ) Men. They certainly seemed as if they had the foci of highly principled young adults… eyes on something outside of themselves.

Well, time will tell. About their attention, intention.

I met them at the Los Gatos Farmers Market this past Sunday, whilst I was handing out flyers, and talking people’s ears off about the upcoming spraying of untested, dangerous pesticides… courtesy of California, the state’s authorities.

They listened to my blah blah for quite a bit before disappearing into the crowd, and were interested enough to return for a second flyer, saying that each of them was in a different Social Justice class. The pair… pristine, filled with promise… reminded me of one of my very favorite lines of poetry:

“There lives the dearest freshness deep down things….”

I gave my phone number. Or my email. Mr. Memory plays tricks these days.

Perhaps, I thought, I would be invited to speak to their classmates, discuss some issues with their instructors. Bellarmine College Preparatory School in San Jose was pregnant with possibilities, the Jesuit social-consciousness being so strong and motivating, giving such an integral part of their glorious history. Very special, their work with the local homeless, their trips to El Salvador. And so much more.

All of a sudden, my contact with Father Bourgeois and School of the Americas Watch flooded back over nearly a two-decade hiatus. And the ongoing Central American times of U.S. desecration stood still. Long enough for me to contemplate longstanding visions of peace on earth, my fantasized, felt role:

“Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
. Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
. Selves–goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.” (2)

Enveloped by epiphany, I saw myself returning to my academic Cinema History days, comparing and contrasting recorded history and cinematic treatment of the same. For the pupils who would follow me, for the eyes of Light, to shed forth something… in the name of a lighter future — one with more clarity — for all.

One of the young men wore an anti-sweatshop shirt, and I was impressed that he had held the angle of vision that he did on the subject. And yet… he told me that he got much of his news from… a mainstream corporate source. Did I hear right? Was this rare as flawless chrysolite youngster — embedded in the embrace of Bellarmine — tainted by such ignorance compounding ignorance? Misguided by mainstream misinformation?

Then I heard an uninfected voice. The Voice.

I remembered reading that the Bellarmine students had set up refugee tents in their quad in solidarity with their brothers and sisters in Darfur. To discuss, in part, why genocides occur? I couldn’t help but wonder whether or not they had access to the work of friends David Barouski and/or Keith Harmon Snow ( who risks his life routinely to bring unusual African angles to us… many thoughts not touched upon by even well-intentioned groups such as Stop Genocide Now ).

In my heart I just knew that neither the role of gum arabic, ore deposits, the tail end of oil concession Block 6, Bechtel nor the Pan-Sahel Initiative had been put on the table for consideration. For the George Clooney version of Darfur (3) — as heartfelt as it is — is all I come across on campuses across America.

The thing with Bellarmine — the Bellarmine in my mind — was that it even if this negative notion was spot on… they held the potential to embrace a truer take. Wanted more.

When I was as young as seven-years-old — close to our Marcel’s age ( see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VM-Hdn7h7tU#GU5U2spHI_4 and www.marcelsgeo.blogspot.com) — I began to wonder about the pain of things outside of myself. Feel them so that I couldn’t sleep without waking, quaking with them. My parents had managed to arrange a private meeting for me with Edna St. Vincent Millay, the legendary American poet, shortly before she died… up at her miraculous Steepletop in Austerlitz, New York. A watershed moment. There…then…she recited — oh so delicately for me! — an excerpt from her Renaissance ( which she had begun writing as a teenager! ):

“The world stands out on either side/ No wider than the heart is wide;/ Above the world is stretched the sky,–/ No higher than the soul is high./ The heart can push the sea and land/ Farther away on either hand;/ The soul can split the sky in two,/ And let the face of God shine through.” Then… thedying heart read some truly beatific lines from Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Which brings me back to Bellarmine.

I have hundreds of books, DVDs, etc. that I am thinking of donating to their new library. New publications and relatively recent works, not so easily accessible in some cases. Precious old stuff too. But, then, there’s my background in Theatre, Comparative Literature, Cinema History and ESL. And, oh yes, Flannery O’Connor in particular. Over three decades from college-level through the lower grades, worldwide. I fancy that I could make some contribution there in those realms.

When it comes to poetry, I imagine that I’d be a good person to lead earnest students to Glasnevin Cemetery, two miles north of Dublin City ( See www.parisgraves.com )… where Gerard Manley Hopkins lies. Roger Casement, Maude Gonne, Stewart Parnell and so many memorable others too. But, oh my, just listing those names conjures up all kinds of academic nooks and crannies that I’d love to explore with the students, staff and faculty at Bellarmine.

That seeming home away from home, on a campus where I’ve never trod, could be the setting for a singular production of Beckett’s Waiting for Godot. Something oddly attractive. Or the perfect locale for an ongoing film festival of sorts, wherein I could show select socially-conscious documentaries, and unforgettable features with incomparable aesthetic value.

I could do something else there too.

I might clean the latrines for the young men of Bellarmine. And paint sacred graffitti on the walls… with words that would flame out, like shining from shook foil, and gather to a greatness, fathering forth whose beauty is beyond change.

Even dappled old men can feel a calling.

Laus Deo Semper.

Footnotes:

(1) The lines are from “God’s Grandeur” and “Pied Beauty” respectively, two of the great nature poems by Hopkins, written in 1877. I wonder whether or not all students at Bellarmine know the works. I imagine so. At any rate, I trust that all readers will — at the very least — look at the former in conjunction with this work.

(2) The more I read and write the more I refine my singularity. Hopkins found support for this approach in John Duns Scotus, and, consequently, blossomed as a poet. The question for everyone is not the one that Camus posed centered on the “To be or not to be” conundrum, but — rather obvious to me — how to realize one’s intended potential within the context of God’s embrace. In this sense, everyone has the capacity to believe in God, and reinforce peace and beauty on earth. These are lines from “As kingfishers catch fire.”

(3) This is not unlike what — for want of a better expression — I will call The Don Cheadle Version of Rwanda. In general, the general well-meaning public has great difficulty distinguishing between righteous indignation and righteous indignation being used by the powers-that-be and/or a desire to do good in need of historical perspective. Imagine a discussion of medieval logic without mention of Abelard, Ockham or Duns Scotus. Or talk of U.S. overseas interventions without employing the word Empire.

Richard Oxman, the author, was born almost four hundred years to the day of Saint Robert Bellarmine’s birthday. The Cardinal of the Roman Catholic Church was a nephew of Pope Marcellus II ( the last Pope not to change his name on his accession ), and when his son Marcel was born the Pope’s name came up… along with Marcel Duchamp, Marcel Marceau and others.

He intends to send this “article” (unsolicited application?) to various members of the Bellarmine community, in the hope that he’ll be invited to a rendezvous. Each contact may contain slightly different variations, as he tends to intermittently edit works of art that he submits for any purpose. At the very least, he hopes to generate interest in the spraying issue mentioned above, and the plight of thirteen- and fourteen-year-old children incarcerated for life as per www.eji.org.

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Richard is a former college professor from Rutgers University, Long Island University, New York Institute of Technology, Montclair State Teachers College, Seton Hall University and a number of other institutions worldwide. In addition, he has served as a facilitator for unique excursions abroad ( See www.frenchpaintbox.com and www.cancerfreeitaly.com as examples ). However, he claims to have learned more about life from his non-academic forays, such as taxi driving in New York City, selling bad art on the island of Maui, and a number of other experiences which he’s not particularly proud of in retrospect.

His understanding of the Jesuit attitude toward prayer resonates deeply with him. And recently — in asking for guidance — he has been graced with two new ideas. One, to secure a monastery in or around Montepulciano, the birthplace of Saint Bellarmine… for the purpose of inculcating/encouraging needed values. Or to support art for art’s sake… which is not necessarily a different proposition. Two, to secure — for a non-politician — the Executive Office of the state of California ( following a new paradigm for change ) for the purpose of transforming the world’s current momentum. Details upon request, of course. Richard can be contacted at headburg@yahoo.com.

For the last year, Richard has run a successful vintage furnishings business ( See www.blossomhome.com ) in Los Gatos, California.