Green Eyed Monster?

Once upon time I worked in a factory . . .One day the energy of  Fierce Indignation  called me to stand up to Ignorance.  .  .And when the dust had settled  the boss approached me and said:  "Thank you for what you did. Now this place is more peaceful".
Story telling....
I liked my job. . .Hands busy with mind free to meditate on whatever I wanted. 
Had I not had the chance to talk with John, I wouldn't know much about him because we worked in different departments. However, that one day we were seated at the same work station. Hands and eyes busy/working,  as were our tongues and curious minds. 

I noticed around  Christmas-time his hunched back, his head hung low in silence  when the rest of us were having drinks and laughing like crazy people :)   He was the one whose "hello" wave was always friendly, even though we only exchanged few words when I worked for a short spell in the same department.
That day at the same work station we talked about families and  personal stuff and sensed he really liked me. I liked his gentle voice, his  hippy pony tail, his never staring ways, his easy to talk to vibe, his great looking face! 
It wasn't until the very end of the shift that John said  'soon he needed to make a very important decision' . . .It was more the way he looked and sounded, which made me urgently utter "whatever it is, I hope it all works out, John" -- just as the end-of-shift bell rang out!

Not too long after that I heard that John is now in transition to becoming "Joan".  She wore pink t-shirts and her breast began to grow.  Even the women's laughter and demeaning remarks seemed very disturbing to me when they talked about  the tension / aggression towards Joan in her department. 
I knew J.  loved her wife and 2 children. I knew her kids loved their dad and thought they were coping somehow .  I knew Joan's decision to 'come out' was not an easy one.
Our hello waves stayed the same and I  (personally) wished  her well.   We still talked about and exchanged books. To me Joan was the same person with new name and changing body. 

On one of my weeks back, I  heard  that couple of days earlier  Joan got her front teeth knocked out by the boxing man / co-worker,  after their Friday night card-playing game (after work).
I was  MAD!  Was so stunned that I said not one word.  None of the women were laughing, either.  I knew I couldn't just stand by and do nothing!  Couple of hours later I asked one woman to show me the teeth-knocking-out brute -- to actually point the bully out to me  -- since I didn't know who he was.

I waited till lunch break to walk my indignant self to their  small plant office (where they took their meals) and hissed:   "DAN (last name) YOU'RE A SCUM AND A CREEP, IF YOU WANT TO PUNCH ME OUT COME OUT THERE!".

"What?" , he asked.

I repeated same sentiment, word - for -word.

He shook his head "no". I walked away satisfied because  I had witnesses (his crew). 

The place was a' buzz after lunch. . . To all that knew me I was the soft spoken one with not one wavy hair in its place -- she who just one week after giving birth to two babies was able to wear pre-pregnancy size jeans with lipstick to match my t-shirt --  suddenly capable of tough-talking like a truck driver,  to one who sported bulging muscles?

"Big John" - grinning from ear to ear - from Joan's department came up to me shortly after lunch, said:  "must be the Irish blood in you."
I could have bat my eyelashes and ask, "How come you think I'm Irish? is it because of my accent or is it the green eyes?" - but didn't.  I was on a mission and was still in serious mode.  

At the punch out (clock) lineup many smiling faces . . . One woman descending the cafeteria stairs - who came in for the next shift, heard what happened - yelled out:  "way to go Helen!"

The following morning, above the entrance  door a huge poster:  "IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU SCUM AND CREEP QUIT NOW!".

And another -- same words, same size poster above the punch clock.

Turned out the guys who witnessed my outrage decided to take further action and prepared 'your behavior  is not acceptable',   message.  That  very morning, Dan the boxer man,  packed up and quit. 

Sometime later Joan, (prompted by her psychologist) wrote a very long open letter . It read like a biography .  Full of pain. Her twice attempted suicide.  And in the end, her gratitude for all the support  from everyone.
I was handed my own copy. Which in turn, I shared with a very bright (summer) teacher-to-be student who was grateful for the opportunity to see what it's like to live with a body which doesn't feel 'right'.

The moral to this story? . . . That sometimes it takes one wrathful person, just one episode/time  to set a'fire minds and hearts of those who only needed someone to take the first step.