The Missing Piece
If it weren’t Mike asking me, I wouldn’t have considered it.
I’ve been happy to keep my two lives separate before then. My students knew Mr. Goodson and my recovery crew knew Mark, the man in recovery. For all I was considered, my two lives were like Rudyard Kipling’s East and West: “Never the twain shall meet.”
I had good reason for the ten years that these two versions of myself remained separate.
I mean, it’s one thing to admit complete defeat, it’s another, entirely different thing to admit to the very students you teach that you had to admit complete defeat in your life.
A coincidence made it possible, of course. It’s seven in a row now in the series. But who’s counting?
Mike asked me to speak at our school’s senior retreat the week I would celebrate 10 years clean and sober. If there were ever time to bring my story to where I work, I knew that time had come. For years, I had not dipped that end of my quill in the company ink. But after starting a blog devoted to the miracles involved in simple sober living, I could have guessed that this talk was inevitable.
Camp Letts is beautiful, a wooded expanse on the bay, its grounds covered with cabins and trails.
An incredible place to reflect.
I prayed on the drive there. I prayed for the strength to be honest. These are students I’ve taught for four years or players I’ve coached for the same amount of time. I’ve spent more time with these young men in the last four years than I have my own siblings, my own mother and father.
In ten years time, I’m proud to say I’ve built a good reputation at the school. I’ve worked hard, often maniacally, because I love my job. I love teaching. It’s what made admitting I suffer from drug addiction and alcoholism so difficult a proposition. It’s much easier to reap the rewards of sobriety in my professional life without giving my sobriety credit. Teachers and coaches work hard to appear invincible, not as a matter of pride. It’s about self-preservation. Show weakness and teenagers will eat you alive.
But teachers also inspire. What is a teacher if he cannot move minds or stir souls? When Mike asked me to tell my story on their retreat, I knew it was the right thing to do.
The talk went well.
I led by telling them they would be the first people at the school to hear my story. The real story. The story behind the man they know as “Mr. Goodson” or “Coach.” I didn’t spare too many details in my recounting of things. Although I did have to be aware of my audience. I couldn’t forget that I would see these young men everyday until June with expectations for them to take their study of literature seriously. While I withheld some of the grisly details, I included the meat and the fat of the story.
I was nervous until the moment came. I paused, unable to form the words, “psychiatric hospital” and “drug-Induced psychosis.” I took a breath. It was the answer to my prayers. God took the wheel. When the words came, I knew I didn’t have to worry anymore. The hard part was over.
The talk wasn’t recorded. No one took photos to my knowledge either. And I’m glad about that. Knowing my audience includes the freedom to share with my students details about my upbringing and life I can’t post publically. As I told them, it was a version of my story I’ve never told to anyone before.
My faith steadied my hands and voice. I delivered the truth.
Now they know “Mr. Goodson” a little better. And being known better, I become a better teacher, and a man closer to God, who is, I believe, in the truth and in the freedom truth brings.
WIth ten years sober and all the dirty laundry aired, I feel as though I’ve only begun the next phase of my journey.
I used to have conversations with my friend Joe about the bizarre nature of being two different people. One was the Mr. Goodson who everyone knew has far too much to say about books and shows up to work on time each Monday. The other was the man who survived a psychotic break in a dustbowl Mexican town.
“It’s one person,” Joe told me often. “They are the same guy.”
“But they really aren’t.”
“How so?”
“Well, the one can’t acknowledge the other and still do his job.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because the other would, like, fall apart if he did.”
“But the teacher and the coach can’t survive without the crazy gringo. The crazy gringo allowed the teacher and coach to exist.”
I tried to explain to my friend that I have one at a distance from the other, and that distance lets the whole thing continue to work.
Joe didn’t relent. “They are the same person,” he kept telling me.
I know some good Joes. There’s this one that helped me believe I could unite these two selves in my life, and there is the Joe who delivered me from Mexico to a hospital in San Diego, saving my life 10 years ago.
And now I understand what Joe was talking about. At least, I’m closer to understanding. I believe that what the Buddhists call Nirvana is a space where our identity is wholly in sync with the universe and the moral law of God. A personal belief, here. Don’t quote me. I’ve never approached Nirvana with crossed legs and fingers pinched while perched upon a mountain top. But on the drive home that day, after explaining to my students exactly who I am and why I do what I do, I felt a rush of glee. I felt bliss.
I know it was a special moment.
And now that the silence is broken, that moment will not be able to be recreated. I hope to have more opportunities to share my story with the student body. I hope, in a novel and my writing, to share my stories with as many as are willing to read or hear them. But I’ll never forget that morning.
I’ll never be the same. It is a good thing. Because I am forever changed form that morning, I can guarantee that they will be forever changed from it too. I couldn’t guarantee that if I walked out of there, having shared some watered down or censored or fantasized version of my life.
That sort of transformation is reserved for matters of truth.
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Great story Mark. I’m sure they got a lot out of it with your true honesty. What a great teacher you must be to your students. Great article.
Thanks Patrick.
So I’ve been slowly sort of gauging their reactions to things. No one has approached me directly about it yet. But they say hello to me and participate much more enthusiastically than they used to. That has to be a good sign right?
Take care,
Mark
Sometimes God speaks to us through our friends. Iron sharpens iron!
Oh, to have been there.
I expect you touched a few students with your words. And that will change things for them. No one will ever know how, but it will.
Those moment where we know deep down that everything is exactly as it is supposed to be are very profound. And it took the addiction and the psychotic break to get there.
Thank you for sharing that. My heart is full.
Anne
Thanks Anne for reflecting on the post like that.
I hope you’re right. I had such a good feeling after finishing the talk that I think they were moved. Even if it’s just a few, like you said.
I am so blessed by your writings and teachings. How inspiring that must have been to those kids!
Much Love,
Wendy
Thank you Wendy! That means a lot coming from fellow sober teacher. Solidarity!
Courage and grace, they accompany you Mark.
That is a really thoughtful thing to write. Thank you Colleen. I appreciate your support.
If only each one of us had someone like you in our early years…. the tender, impressionable years. Thank you for showing us the way- for being an amazing example of what it means to be “real”.
Liz-That’s very kind of you to say. Thank you for being such a generous supporter. It’s not cliche when I say, it’s about you. I do mean that. It’s the support I get that allows me to be this real. It makes it all worth it!
This is wonderful, Mark. I am sure you touched some spirits there.
I was thinking today, “what question can I ask you that inches towards
my understanding of ‘Mk.v2’ – mark version 2, [goodson.2] – the goodson model 2.1
more and more you let fly towards the big reveal….maybe.
my question was gonna be why did you ‘GO LOUD’ when you did
Im readng this at the end of December
Youve struck a blow against the Stigma thats still hand in hand with addiction and mental health issues. I applaud your stand Mark, and you and other educators really can and will effect change in society. Down our way peeps that spread the word are called ‘recovery champions’
Ive used the argument that the time spent recovering from substance abuse and mental health issues, that the time we spend closeted away from the rat race, that all prevailing grind. is kinda the same as monks acheiving enlightenment where you finally let go of doubt and know that without this pain wracked journey your TRUTH wouldnt be possible.
It weas great to read this here mate, thanks Mark, insightful and hopeful!
Thanks so much John for your support.
It’s always nice to see that you’ve left a comment. Without fail, you support and cheer me on. It’s a hug uplift to keep going. As I know you know, we need that encouragement. There’ve been many times where I’ve doubted the road I’m on, but it’s connecting with people like you that keeps me coming back to the old version 2.0 as you put it, (love that). I’m getting back to you at the start of the new year and I hope you are having a good year so far, bud.
Drop me a line and let me know how you’re doing.