Steve Kobrin
I will tell you a very personal story that demonstrates how I get though times when I feel overwhelmed and over-matched. Perhaps it will give you strength to deal with all the attempts to install tyranny we are facing.
I grew up in the Inwood / Washington Heights section of Manhattan. Very tough neighborhood,
I was a helluva street fighter. My father trained me. Every night at dinner, I had to report in on the fights I had that day. My mission was to not start fights, but finish them.
There were many stretches when I fought every day, sometimes three times a day. I fought not just to defend myself, but to protect weaker kids, especially girls.
Kids used to run to me to confront bullies. I can still hear them pleading, “Steven – you have to fight this guy! Steven – you have to fight this guy!”
One bully in particular was an absolute monster. I actually was friends with him in first grade, but we grew apart. By fifth grade he had grown to twice the size of everyone else, and was incredibly mean. Every day he would march onto the playground with his toadies in tow, and pick a new kid to beat the crap out of. It was inevitable we would face off.
That day came when he picked on my best friend, David. A crowd quickly surrounded the two of them slugging it out. David was severely overmatched, and was taking a tortuous beating. As they circled each other, the crowd would try to cheer David on. I was in the front row, and as they passed me, i would curse the bully right in his ear.
This finally got to him. All of a sudden, he turned from David and launched at me. We had a monumental brawl. We beat each other and beat each other for a long time. It was a very uneven match: he was a huge monster, and I was a little scrappy kid. I do not remember much; in a situation like that, your mind overflows with fear and rage and tremendous energy.
But I do recall this one moment: we were nose-to-nose and fist-to-face. I was feeling very overwhelmed, and hanging on for dear life. Then I heard him suck in breath. I realized that he was having as much trouble as I was, and maybe even more because well, he wasn’t me. He wasn’t the son of Lee Kobrin.
That gave me a glimmer of hope and a second wind. I turned it on and beat him back. It was a great victory for the little guy. The story shot around the neighborhood: the big monster was not invincible.
Every day I hear the big fascist monster sucking breath. They have no idea who we are. But they are finding out. We have to keep turning it on.