I would like to take a break from the serious business of
complaining about coworkers social work blogging to share the possibly tragic, definitely inspirational tale of a dear friend of mine.
Señor Tomás Gobbles (pictured above) wandered into Anonymous Agency, seeking guidance. November in America is not a good time for turkeys, as you might know. It’s stressful. They’re facing certain death, their family support systems are being eaten, children are making hand versions of them, mocking their noble plight. It’s enough to give anyone anxiety.
Señor Gobbles needed services. He was really excited about the DREAM Act (Señor Gobbles is a proud immigrant, in addition to being a turkey) but was disappointed to learn that it would not apply to him. His only option was to apply for a pardon from President Obama. Señor Gobbles was also a registered Democrat, so he was hopeful.
He had learned a lot during the 2012 presidential election. First, he asked for cash. He had gotten a whole lot of emails from Joe Biden that were bordering on needy, so he knew how important money was to a campaign.
As has been previously mentioned, Anonymous Agency is short on cash.
Then, he suggested a smear campaign. Digging through other turkeys’ Facebook pages for compromising photos or vaguely racist statements, making up adulterous allegations, that sort of thing. We decided Señor Gobbles was better than this.
The only thing we had left to go on—sap. Holding babies, heartstring-tugging tales, stories so inspiring they could make Lincoln’s statue cry.
So he turned to the children of Anonymous Agency. To help him to
exploit others’ weaknesses effect change within the nation. Or at least to save him from being dinner.
They helped him by delivering a message to Washington. What are the so often forgotten children (and a few good sport mothers) of the Bronx thankful for? Is there anything more moving than gratitude?
Plus, they gave him feathers, so he wasn’t that creepy naked turkey. Always helps a campaign.
Many sentiments were standard. We got lots of, “my mom,” “my dad,” “my family.” Some of that was genuine, surely, but some were definitely done in a rush to get back for seconds on pie.
Some were seemingly small. “My bike.” “My skateboard.” “The clothes on my body.”
Some were big. Really big. “Jesus.” “Being Mexican.” (Wahoo Señor!) “My mom for giving birth to me.” (I highly recommend being present when a mother sees that her eight year old son has written that. Magic.)
Some were surprising. “School.” “My brother.” “My mom brought us to Anonymous Agency.”
Some caused mixed feelings. “I’m glad Hurricane Sandy didn’t destroy my house.”
Some were funny. “I’m going to write, ‘I’m thankful for my dad.’ Oh never mind, how do you spell Chuck E. Cheez?”
Surely you’re asking now,
what’s wrong with you SJ what’s the moral of this story? The personal is political? Count your blessings? Know that your families do experience gratitude and are happy to have one another, even if they don’t express it?
Those are good, but no. It’s this: when working with children, there’s nothing wrong with entertaining yourself, even if they think your turkey story is kind of nuts.
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody! (Or have a nice day, if you’re not in America.) I’ll let you know how it goes for Señor Gobbles.