If you have been following the news this week you may have noticed several pieces on the boorish behaviour of a young Cambridge student who filmed himself burning a £20 note in front of a homeless man in white tie. The conceit of it all is appalling but looking back to my days there I guess things carry on. My old college was fairly mixed but us public school boys and girls did not always show ourselves in the best light.
I never went to any white tie events. The nearest I got was various highbrow concerts in which conductor and soloists were so attired. I was saddened recently when the Facebook page of a young local lad I know came across my feed. A law student at Trinity he too was attired in white tie and gave the alarming appearance of having disappeared up his own arse. I was relieved more recently when I saw him at the Fu Hao and his polite kind nature was still in view.
Looking back on my teens I was not the nicest of young men. Angry but not acknowledging it, frightened but un-showing, lonely but denying. I'm ashamed of some things I did and throughout my damaged 20s as I fought a losing battle with mental illness my own self loathing was fuelled by those memories of an awful teen and how unkind I was to people sometimes.
So it was huge relief when my friend Ros who knew me even before Rachel came back into my life and sank my fragile sense of self with the realisation that I was kinder than I have feared. It's been some months since I saw Ros which is a shame but will no doubt be rectified at some point. I look forward to that day not to absolve myself of lingering guilt but to enjoy the company of a good, kind and compassionate friend.
I Heard a Voice.
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