One scene I sometimes think about involved the characters, Mulder and Scully, racing through the desert at night towards Area 51. Mulder had received a call of dubious origin, with scant information, but here they were traveling across the country on a whim. Exasperated, Scully says:
Don’t you ever want to stop? Get out of the damn car and live something approaching a normal life?
Mulder’s reply: “But Scully, this is normal.”
The scene makes me laugh because I can understand how vastly different people’s ideas of normality can be. I’m someone who has cheerfully chosen to abandon the ‘normal’ life, with all of its comforts and constraints. I’ve followed a path without a 9 to 5 grind, and mortgages and summer holidays and superannuation plans and visits to the mall; to me, all of that is strange now.
And yet, ironically, my life’s work is helping young people to find their own way to normality. Blue Dragon’s mission is to find the kids who are out on their own: abandoned, sold, or homeless. There are very few kids we meet who anyone would identify as having ‘normal’ lives, by any definition.
This reality hit me this week during a meeting in a cafe without about 15 of the Blue Dragon teens. During the summer months we organised a Career Orientation program to help our youth think about the sorts of jobs they might want to pursue in the future. The gathering at the cafe was a wrap-up meeting to debrief and acknowledge the great progress that the kids had made. They’d all stuck with the program from beginning to end, and some had even taken the opportunity to start new jobs or join training programs.
I sat at the back of the room looking at the kids. Nearly all of them had experienced abandonment by their families and severe neglect. Many had spent time living on the streets. Some had been through the worst forms of exploitation imaginable. Every one had a heart-rending story that they could tell.
But just looking at them, they seemed… well, totally normal. A stranger coming into the room would have seen a group of typical teenagers. During the meeting, some sat and listened quietly. Some raised their hands or interrupted enthusiastically. Some used the opportunity to flirt with a girl or boy who had caught their eye. Absolutely normal behaviour.
One of them, “Nam,” has had a particularly harrowing life, and he’s only 14 years old. Kicked out of home following his mother’s death several years ago, Nam came to Hanoi and fell into a cycle of exploitation and crime. When he wasn’t being used by the gangs, he slept with an empty stomach on concrete benches in public parks and waited for someone to come by and find him – police or another gang, it didn’t matter to him. But one day he got lucky and it was a Blue Dragon Outreach Worker who found him.
When he first came to Dragon House, Nam was skinny and dirty, with long greasy hair and clothes that hadn’t been washed in weeks. His fingernails were crusted black with dirt. And yet, just a week later, he was transformed. He’d had a hair cut, bought all new clothes, and polished himself all over. He even stood differently and started looking people in the eye. The change took place in just days; suddenly, he looked and behaved like any other teenager in Hanoi.
It occurred to me that a common characteristic of the Blue Dragon kids is the craving for normality. They don’t want to stand out from the crowd any more; they want to blend in. They want to present themselves to the world as being the same as anyone else, no different. They want to be normal.
And so I see that I have left a ‘normal’ life to help others find one.
I wonder if, in future years, some of them will follow a path like my own, and abandon that same normality they now pursue. I wonder if they too will make choices which seem alien to others, and find their own way through life.
Maybe they will. But for now, it’s normality that they want, and normality that they need.