Head-Banging Myself Toward Freedom

A week ago today I accepted a rather interesting invitation. My third weekend had rolled around and thus I was scheduled to work in the cafeteria. In my three years of employment at the cafeteria I have been privileged to meet some of the most wonderful people who have each had an eternal influence on my life. In the confines of stainless steel I have been adopted into numerous families, made lifetime friendships, laughed, loved, and even cried.

One such person is my friend Derek. One’s first impression of Derek is best summed up in the question, “What is he doing here?” When I first met Derek I was not sure why he had chosen Southern Adventist University to seek out his education. But at least he was seeking and that was enough for me. I am sure that my doubts had something to do with the eyebrow piercing and the mow hawk dyed some outrageous shade of green. Yet after working with him for only a few shifts I found myself looking forward to our next shift together. Behind all the rebellion, or what he would consider his own expression of himself lies one of the more rare soft-hearted fellows of the male species.

Of course as it is my nature, I grew quite fond of Derek and consequently when he told me he was quitting the cafeteria to work for Fed-Ex, I was broken-hearted to say the least. Thus on this particular Saturday I was nicely surprised when I looked up from my plate of Steaks Delux to see Derek wander into the dining hall. Ready with a hug for me he explained that he was covering for another worker. I knew it would be no ordinary Sabbath lunch.

After finishing lunch and clocking in, I donned my apron and headed to the fishbowl to check our progress. Just as a side note, the fish bowl is the area between the two Salad Department decks where we carry out all our daily duties of stocking the salad and sandwich bars. To this day I am not quite sure why we call it such. Perhaps it is because when inside we are literally surrounded by Plexiglass, peering out into the scrambler area as the people pass us by, stuck inside, working. But I digress.

Things seemed to be in tip top shape and thus I headed into the back to lend a hand to Jeri, my supervisor. While standing at the deck working, Derek approached me and ask, “Hey didn’t I promise to take you to a rock concert one day?” “Yeah” I replied. He then proceeded to tell me about a concert for that night presenting a band called As Cities Burn. He insisted that it was going to be the best concert ever and attempted to persuade me to come with him. Hesitant, I made the excuse that I had something to do, study of course, for my Adult III final. A groan rang throughout the Salad Department. Rachel looked at me from across the deck and gave me that “come-on” look. In response to his invitation I insisted that I needed to commit to studying and said no. As he made his way into the farther side of the kitchen he commented about me insulting him, his words dripping with a guilt trip, directed at me. I sighed to myself. I probably would never get to do this ever again in my life. And I have not seen Derek in months. As he came through the Salad Department again I told him I would go. It was then, even before the concert that his excitement reached colossal proportions. He informed me that we were leaving at 6:30 PM and he would pick me up at Thatcher. I agreed and returned to my job.

6:30 PM, or actually a little later than that, Derek pulled up in his blue Chevy and we headed into Chattanooga for the concert. Our destination was Club Fathom, a Christian club for all ages. Once we arrived and parked, we walked across the street and into the club where they shooed the girls into the building but ran metal detectors over the men. After paying and getting stamped Derek led me into the Red Room where all the action was. Standing in the middle of the room I felt as though my eardrums would burst. The noise was so intense I felt almost sick. The only person holding their ears, Derek led me to the bathroom and instructed me to put some toilet paper in my ears. He promised this would help, which it did, immensely!

We returned to the Red Room and settled onto a couch and listened to band after band. I soon realized that when he told me rock music he really meant rock music. This was the kind of music where all the singers do is scream till you are sure that they must be hoarse, and yet they continue, song after song. The up side to all this was that the message in the music was Christian and so I caught a few words here and there and felt blessed. Soon it was time for As Cities Burn to take the stage. All night Derek had tried to get me to follow him up to the front of the stage and I refused. But just as they were about to do their last song he insisted that I come with him. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. So taking me by the hand we went to the front of the stage. Showered with the sweat of singers and guitar players as they head-banged to the music, I found that I let go of myself and did the same. Heaving with the crowd, Derek and I rocked out to one last song, the best song of the entire night.

The next day I told my experience to my cafeteria co-workers only to receive a tongue lashing from Caroline who informed me that I was behaving Satanically, and I should have never gone. Thus I proceeded to inform her that I already have one mother and I don’t need another. I know what is right and what is wrong. She was not there. I was. I felt angry that she would judge something she knew nothing about. Yet at the same time I was not going to let her rain on my parade. That night I had let go of who I was, and became someone else for a short while, someone who did not care who was watching. I felt free.