It's Simple, Just Accept It: Ryan Rae

It is very hard for me to accurately or sincerely discuss my interactions with the Wesley Foundation. My initial reaction is to spout off a long and contrived retelling of a Scripture passage that shows how much I have grown in retelling of facts. For this in-depth understanding of these Biblical stories, all credit goes to the Wesley Foundation.

I would not categorize my attendance at the Wesley as regular, minus recent days and a few times throughout my years at Tech. It was just there patiently waiting to give me its time, community, and worn couches for a midday nap. I was always welcomed as if I had been there the day before and with the hope that I would be there tomorrow. I was always glad to find that there was a tomorrow. There are so many people I have to thank for giving me these chances and this time of growth: Garrett, Cris, Hannah, McCall, Trevor, etc. They let me wade through so much uncertainty and allow myself to be revealed. I think nothing shows this better than how much I love Blade Runner and jazz.  

I speak, and write, with an almost dizzying slur of references and callbacks to bygone TV shows, movies, and musical artists from almost every decade since the ‘50s. This almost-David-Foster-Wallace approach to conversation is off-putting to most, if not all, people. In fact, my best friend from high school tells me that when we have gone a while without talking, he feels like he has to go through a boot camp to remember how conversations with me work. So, when I came to the Wesley, I was not surprised by the blank stares or confused looks. I just waited for the polite nod and moved on to the next subject. This made it all the more surprising when, instead of leaving the conversation or subject, I was met with a question that deepened the subject. Trevor Blair, for instance, sat with me for two hours as I explained how Blade Runner was my favorite movie because there are actually four versions. He just sat there and would chime in with a reference to The Office or why the origami is important in the movie. I went home and cried because very few people have done something so simple. I also remember how simple it was to reach out and love him. Trevor loves one musical group that stood above the horde of suggestions I would give him: Coldplay. I remember that I was skeptical at first, but I took the time to listen to one of their albums, and I told Trevor that I liked songs like “Princess of China” and “Paradise.” That conversation lasted two hours as he told me what albums to look at next and how it was a dream of his to go see them live. I was just glad it was not me rambling for once.  

Another instance was actually last week with my friend Cris. I cannot tell you how much this man has worked to be a friend in my life, but I am sure it is nothing short of herculean. It was our last hangout for a long time. He came in, sat down at my couch and drank coffee with me as I rattled off for two hours the reasons why I love Norah Jones and that it was a genius move to put Charlie Hunter on her debut record with Adam Levy. He just sat and smiled and asked questions about Stax Records and how I got my start collecting. When he left to go on to his first love of coaching a soccer match, I had a sense of pride that I was able to come to know him.   

The last batch of stories that I’ll pour out is about people who have become my family. I met Hannah and McCall four years ago at an Eskamoe’s snow cone place, and my life has not been the same ever since. I have enjoyed Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays, quiet Sundays, and too many Tuesday nights to remember where they have just loved me. The greatest part of knowing them has been their patience in listening as I share my joys and allowing me to be vulnerable about my anxiety and existential fears. They never turned away or blinked; they just accepted that I needed time or space. Whenever I really did need to grow, they were there showing me that I was not as bad as I thought I was or that I needed to accept that they wanted to be there for me. I still mess that part up, but I am doing better. These are friendships that push me to become better than even what I think I can do myself. I am able to take a step back and notice that my life has grown into something that takes shaping and cultivating. 

It is still a scary thing to be in a community where I have seen myself grow into caring about almost everyone in it. I do not think there is a month that goes by where I do not try to take a step back from this community. It is hard for me to think that people want to hear my opinion or that they cannot wait to hear from me. The Wesley has given me the time to grow with the community. The thing that I have taken away from all of this is to do a very laborious but simple thing: just accept these blessings, and give what you can. We are enough.

Ryan is a treasured member of the community at the Wesley foundation and has become extremely teachable over the years. He graduated from Tech in summer of 2020 and is currently teaching music at Junction City High School in Arkansas. He has a passion for loving others well, his favorite genre of music is Jazz, and he tends to crack jokes every so often. This young man is a joy and we're thankful he's apart of this community.