Small Stuff

The fight was dirty, fierce, and quick. It started when I tripped Matt Jarvis on the Soccer field in Mid-November of my seventh grade year, and he fell face first into the dark mud which covered the field. With all of the violent rage a thirteen year old can possess, Matt charged toward me ready to wring my neck, and all I could do was jump back before he did so. Removing his long winter hat with its fuzzy knitted ball at the end, Matt swung it at me. I responded by cuffing him in the face on the cheek. Before either of us knew she was there, Mrs. Patton came up from behind us ending the fight with her mere presence. Mrs. Patton was none other than the vice principal, who struck fear into the hearts of many.

No other person can compare to the candor and strict discipline of American General, George Patton who fought on the European stage in World War II. That is, no other person but the vice principal, Mrs. Patton. She pulled her dark blond hair into a bun so tight that it pulled the skin of her face with it, and her eyes almost squinted with its pull. Standing as tall as the principal with her stilleto heels, Mrs. Patton looked down at Matt and I, and I then knew how a gopher sees an oncoming semi-truck and is unable to move fast enough from its deadly path.

"Take a seat," she commanded.

Obediently we sat in the fifty-year-old wooden chairs, having forgotten that only moments before, we were bitter enemies.

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" Mrs. Patton asked.

We shrugged our shoulders with an empty and dumb expression, as if we did not understand what she could possibly be talking about. Our eyes which had held unseemly rage, were now vacant and full of worry.

Looking from Matt who still had a little bit of mud caked on his face to me whose face was a beet red, she said, "Well?"

Matt cracked under the pressure and related everything that happened from his perspective, which was surprisingly accurate as it neither condemned nor defended either of us from the punishment we were about to receive.

"Is this true Eric?" Mrs. Patton asked.

I nodded.

She reached across the desk and picked up her phone, and pressed a speed dial button.

"Officer Kercher?"

"Yes, I have two boys in my office involved in a fight, I need you to come in here and file a report please. Thank you! Goodbye."

"The SRO officer!? It was just a fight, and not even that good of a fight. What does he need to file a report for?" I thought to myself.

It seemed that Mrs. Patton read my thoughts as she looked into my eyes and even down to my very soul.

"Eric, Matt, East Middle School has a no tolerance policy towards fighting. I have called Officer Kercher to the office to file a police report. While he is filling out the report which will go on your permanent police record..."

"Our permanent record!" Matt exclaimed in obvious worry.

Mrs. Patton appeared annoyed at being interrupted, "Yes Matt, your permanent record. You fought. Don't interrupt me again. I will be calling your parents while he is filling out the report, and you will be suspended from school for the rest of the week." It was a Thursday, so it wasn't that big of a deal.

"When you come back next week, you will be attending Mrs. Griffin's anger management classes."

"Can I call my mom?" Matt asked desperately.

"No Matt, you may not, I will be calling her myself," Mrs. Patton responded. "I will tell her the kind of a child you were today, as I will also be telling your mother as well, Eric.”

I thought to tell her my parents were dead, but immediately thought better, as I knew that she would see through the lie and burn holes through my head with eyes lacking of any emotion or pity for the punishment that awaited us on the other side of the phone call she would make, no matter what story I told her.

"Why are you two fighting like this for, and is it worth it?"

"Nothing," we said in unison.

"No, I shouldn't have tripped him Mrs. Patton. I am sorry," I said.

Never had I seen the reaction that masked Mrs. Patton's face, but the slits that her eyeballs saw through widened as if in shock.

"It isn't me you should apologize to, Eric."

Slowly I looked over at Matt and let the apology out. He seemed to be just as shocked as Mrs. Patton, but was still too scared at the thought of Mrs. Patton calling his mom to really return the apology with any sincerity.

"This doesn't change anything Eric, but thank you. That isn't something that I often see."

Officer Kercher arrived at the point to fill out his report, and Mrs. Patton left to call our parents. His lecture was remarkably similar to Mrs. Patton's, leaving me to wonder if they had rehearsed the lecture together. He added emphasis that this would go onto our permanent police record, but if we didn't let it happen again we might be okay.

Matt's mother arrived shortly after and a trail of fire and anger blazed in her path. I could suddenly see why he did not want Mrs. Patton to be the one to call his mother. As Mrs. Jarvis signed the school's release form, she slammed the pen down scaring even the school receptionists. She glared at Matt saying, "Let's go!" and they left to a place where I am sure Matt was sure to receive a punishment and treatment matched only to the wrath of medieval dungeons I had seen in so many movies.

My dad arrived shortly after, and I thought about being nervous until I saw him look at me. His eyebrows were raised, his brow furrowed, and his mouth curved in the corners as if he were about to smile. He had signed me out with exceptional grace to the relief of the receptionists.

As we got out into Dad's aged truck with the dogs in the back barking at me with canine joy, I could see that my treatment would not be as severe. Letting the truck warm up, Dad let the necessary silence pass between us to signify that his getting me from school was indeed an inconvenience, but not a grave one, because he got off of work about that time anyways.

"So let me get this straight Eric," Dad began. "You got into a fight that lasted maybe two minutes, and you now get to have the next two days off of school, and get out of class next week to attend anger management. Is that right?"

I was taken aback with his bluntness, "Uh yeah."

Dad nodded, and slowly his mouth curved upward into a smile that dominated his entire face. "So this is the school's way of discouraging fighting?" he said incredulously.

"I guess."

Dad began laughing, and every punishment that the school had just thrown at me began to seem insignificant and resembled more of a reward than anything else in my dad's views.

His laughter was contagious, and I was soon laughing with him.

When the laughter finally died down, my dad looked at me with his smile slightly fading. "Don't get me wrong Eric, I do not want you fighting or suspended from school."

I nodded and began to be serious again, as I could see that this discussion now warranted a more serious tone.

"But boy's fight to resolve their differences, and I know that just as well as anyone else. You can do better, I know this. Mrs. Patton let me know that you were the first to apologize and that says a lot about you," Dad said.

"Matt just wouldn't let me play the game, it's like he had to have control or act like all the other popular jerks. I just got tired of it. I had enough, Dad."

"I understand, and sometimes you just got to let it out like you did no matter the consequences. But Eric, Matt really just doesn't matter, and neither do the other little craps, who act as if it is their entitlement. You just need to get used to it," he said.

I nodded, it was true.

"You just cannot change any of them, and fighting sure as hell won't help every time."

"Every time?" I asked.

"Yeah, you have to stick up for yourself and others sometimes."

"When?"

"When enough is enough," Dad said.

I felt relief, honest to God relief, and began to look forward to the time that Dad and I would have for the rest of the week.

"You will know when enough is enough Eric, but in the mean time just remember to not sweat the small stuff, and Eric, it is all small stuff."

Dom Afonso Henriques

Eric Pratt

English 403: Dr. Raymond

I-Search

October 29, 2012

Dom Afonso Henriques

            The grey statue of Portugal’s founder stood atop a column of stone in the middle of the citadel known as Castle Saint George in Lisbon. I did not know the name of this noble looking figure, so I came closer to see the inscription on the magnificent plaque at its base, “The Founder of Portugal, Dom Afonso Henriques, 1109 – 1184”. Each person who looked up at the old armored king with a magnificent mustache gave the statue a nod, as if in gratitude or respect. I came to understand that this man, was not only Portugal’s founder, but he had done something to earn the respect of over 900 years worth of Portuguese subjects. In his quest for kingship and sovereignty, Afonso had fought family, defied the more powerful Christian kings of the Spanish peninsula, and reclaimed the Old Portuguese lands to the south in crusade against the Moors. I wanted to know when I started this project, what made Afonso different from other crusader kings in Iberia, why he had chosen this path instead of the one chosen by his family, and if this character was worthy of my potential talents as a novelist.

            The research for this project actually started about seven years ago, when I was a missionary in Portugal. In the city of Évora, I had learned that an outlaw by the name of Geraldo the Fearless was so inspired by this Afonso that he gave up his life of crime, and with his band of outlaws, he took the city in one night using tactics similar to U.S. Special Forces. Every city that I lived in, or visited from then on claimed some sort of connection to Afonso. The difficult part of the research began with the interviews of tour guides, and old men who were patient enough to listen to my bad Portuguese. So entranced they still were, that I heard legends of a man so strong that ten men were needed to carry his sword, and so religious that he saw visions of angels and divinity prior to decisive battles. The first part of my research was thus dedicated to separating the man from the myth. Wikipedia gave me an overview of Afonso Henriques’ life, calling particular attention to his family, and gave me a basic understanding of the events surrounding his life. I found a book and several other sources cited on Wikipedia which lead to other much more detailed accounts of Afonso’s life. As most of the sources are only available in Portuguese, I could not have hoped to deduce the value of the resources had I not spoken the language. NAU’s library sources online were helpful in finding primary sources from medieval chroniclers, and other scholarly articles. At last, I was able to find a five-part documentary on YouTube about Afonso Henriques that was made on the date of his 900^th birthday. As a result of this research, I began to wonder why Afonso’s family, and particularly his mother, would ever wish anything else besides what Afonso himself had chosen for Portugal. I would like to thank and recognize the good people of Portugal for first teaching me to speak Portuguese so I could understand the books that tell his story, and for capturing my imagination as they retold his story through legend.

            Born in 1109 to Count Henry of Burgundy and Countess Theresa of León, Afonso was the last of one brother and three sisters. Two of his sisters had already died shortly after their births, and his older brother, Henriques, was a sickly child who had died at the age of three shortly after Afonso was born. His parents finally had the heir they needed, to become the next Count of Portugal. They trusted none other to tutor and raise their son, than a trusted Portuguese noble by the name of Egas Moniz. Moniz taught Afonso everything from a knight’s chivalry, the doctrine of crusades and pilgrimages, fighting, and all about politics. Following the death of his father, Afonso dedicated himself to his studies in a way that surpassed even his mother Theresa.

            Following her husband’s death, Countess Theresa promised to rule in her son’s stead until he reached the age of manhood. Theresa ruled, and eventually fell under the influence of the Northern Galician Traba family. After taking Fernand de Traba as her lover, Portugal slowly lost its independence to Galicia. Portugal had one benefit though, Afonso. After seeing the influence that Moniz and other Portuguese nobility and clergy were having over Afonso, Theresa with Fernand banished the then eleven year old boy to Zamora in the west with the Portuguese nobles who spoke out against the rule of the Trabas and Theresa. At age sixteen, Afonso knighted himself and within three years Afonso had gained enough support to offer some resistance against his mother.

            On the field of São Mamede, battle was fought between the mother and son. Afonso’s victory was decisive, and he expelled the unwanted Galicians back to their lands and banished his mother to a convent for her sins and unlawful rule. Afonso at the age of nineteen became the sole ruler, or Duke of Portugal, and set in place a plan to gain Portugal’s independence from León, and become its king.

            This being just a quarter of his life, Afonso would go on to win greater victories and eventually achieve his dreams of a Portuguese Kingdom. Upon his death, Afonso had tripled the lands of Portugal and left his son Sancho, one of the richest kingdoms in Christendom. It is no wonder that every city bears a street with his name, every Portuguese man, woman, and child knows and reveres his name, and that his history is as rich in legend as George Washington’s or even King Arthur’s. Dom Afonso Henriques is a character worthy of multiple novels, but I wonder if I am to someday be that worthy novelist.

Bibliography

Amaral, Diogo Freitas Do. D. Afonso Henriques: Biografia. Lisboa: Bertrand Editora, 2000. Print.

Anderson, James Maxwell. The History of Portugal. Westport, Conn: Greenwood, 2000. Print.

"Cronica Dos Godos (A Chronicle of the Goths)." O Portal Da Historia. N.p., n.d. Web. 29 Oct. 2012. .

"Gerald the Fearless." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 10 Dec. 2012. Web. 29 Oct. 2012. .

"Manifestis Probatum." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 22 Oct. 2012. Web. 28 Oct. 2012. .

MCXLIIIPortugal. "Dom Afonso Henriques - 1º Rei De Portugal - Parte 1-5." YouTube. YouTube, 23 Mar. 2010. Web. 28 Oct. 2012. .

"Medieval Sourcebook: Osbernus: De Expugnatione Lyxbonensi, 1147[The Capture of Lisbon]." Internet History Sourcebooks Project. Ed. Wiliam Stubbs. Paul Halsall, Dec. 1997. Web. 28 Oct. 2012. .

Newitt, M. D. D. Portugal in European and World History. London: Reaktion, 2009. Print. 

Power Point of Dom Afonso that may or may not be viewable.

Slide Show of Dom Afonso that may or may not be viewable.