Be Like Mike

     In the 1990's, Gatorade put all its advertising dollars on the hottest up-and-coming basketball player of the time, a move that would result in a pop culture wave of sports adulation and marketable branding as every kid on the block wanted to "Be Like Mike." Michael Jordan, arguably the best basketball player ever to walk out on a court.
   
     There's another Mike in the news and on my mind. He's far from a famous athlete, has no lucrative sports contract, isn't idolized by millions, and doesn't have a retinue of adoring fans following him everywhere he goes. But, like the "other" Mike, he is a hero and a role model to kids. Some very special kids.
     This Mike is Michael Garcia, a waiter in Houston. You see, last month, Michael stood up for Milo. Milo being Milo Castillo, a beautiful little boy with Down syndrome. Guests seated in Michael's restaurant asked to be moved away from Milo and his family and made a snarky remark that "special-needs children need to be kept in special places."
     So Michael, even though he does not have a special needs child or anyone in his family or group of friends with a disability, did the stand-up thing. He refused to serve the people who insulted his regular diners and their beautiful child. Asked them how they could  make that remark about such an angel of a child. Asked them to leave.

     I worked for about two decades in the restaurant world. In that culture, the guest is unquestioned and all-powerful. There are two rules. #1 is the customer is always right. #2 is when in doubt refer back to #1. So for this waiter to break this sacred rule, to refuse service to someone,and to refuse to turn his head and let the horrible remark slide, to make a stand for kindness and decency, was an astoundingly courageous decision.
To do so when he had no particular reason other than simple moral kindness was inspiring. Simply inspiring.

     So Michael Garcia has been getting a lot of attention after Milo's mom blogged about what he did and spread the news all over. News stories nationwide, laud and praise and donations rolling in to this generous man from all over the country. This last week, Milo's school, which is a school dedicated to the education and socialization of youngsters with Down syndrome, threw a thank-you party for Michael. Complete with cards, balloons, dancing and singing. Michael made a donation to the school of the contributions that have been coming to him. Yes, he did. Really.

     What Michael Garcia fought was one of the most significant battles anyone can ever fight. Rather than tilting at windmills or battling dragons, he took on one of the little pernicious, dehumanizing remarks which fill up the substance of our day. How many times have we all heard an unkind remark and not corrected it? Stood by while bullying was going on? Laughed at a racist joke? Averted our eyes from watching an irate customer dressing down a cashier over some corporate policy on returning merchandise?

     People claim all the time they want to "be like Jesus."  In some ways, sacrifice on Jesus' scale can sometimes be more understandable and simpler than standing up to a bully like Michael Garcia did. How noble it is to sacrifice oneself for the good of all mankind, to take a deep breath and gird oneself with faith and trust and hope and to do what is to be done. The immensity of such a sacrifice makes it once-and-for-all-time and imbues it with purpose and dignity.
     What Michael did is heroic and inspiring, but it won't lead to a movie climax moment, with a swelling Bill Conti orchestra stirring your heart as Rocky shadow-boxes his way up the steps or the Karate Kid hobbles on one leg to crane-kick Johnny Lawrence. Such little battles fill our days with only occasional flashes of appreciation, but they are vital to our hearts and souls.
     Michael Garcia will go on being Michael Garcia and waiting on Milo and his family. But those kids down at The Rise School, well, they know who Michael is. They know they have a friend.
     When Michael went to the party, he received a very special gift. A crown. Made of yellow foam, decked out with glued-on jewels. Presented to him by his friend Milo. Michael bent his head, Milo fumbled with it and placed it upon his head, bestowing a regal dignity upon the proceedings.

     Lord, let me be like Mike.

     Oh, to deserve to wear such a crown....