At first, I was a little bit disappointed about the work I did yesterday. I went to OSABG for a conference, ate some of their home-grown food, only helped a bit with moving some materials, and then I turned around and went to the French Quarter to learn about the city. At first it felt like I hadn't done anything worthwhile, but then I remembered Bre, a girl that I had spent my two days at OSABG talking to. She's a bit of a brat, but honestly I don't blame her, not after spending a long time talking to her and learning about her life. Talking to Bre (who's only 8) reminded me of a kid I met last year named Lazyharus. Lazy, as I fondly called him, was living with his aunt next to Mamma Gaines last year after both his parents died due to violence and then his second guardian, an uncle, had died of a heart attack. Lazy didn't feel at home with his aunt, her two kids, and her abusive boyfriend, but it was the only home he had. All he wanted was to become a lawyer to help people like himself when he grew up and I remember worrying that he'd never even have the chance. Worst of all, I tried to keep in touch with him, but all my letters remained unanswered. And when we visited his old house earlier this week, Lazy and his family were nowhere to be found.
Talking to Bre yesterday caused the same feelings I have/had about Lazy to resurface. She's only in 4th grade, but she's currently suspended from school for fighting. Back home, almost no younger kids get suspended and even fewer get suspended for violence like that. Bre also has a scar on her chest from some medical procedure (I'm guessing a central line or some sort of open chest surgery). She goes to a bad school, lives in a bad neighborhood, and knows plenty of very bad kids. She's only eight. Eight.
On top of all that, she wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up. It bothers me that I even doubt her ability to achieve her goal, just like I did with Lazy a little less than a year ago. If a kid at home said that he or she wanted to be a vet, I'd believe in them without a doubt. But Bre doesn't have the opportunities we have back home or the support system to push her in the right direction. I feel heartbreak for her, just like I felt for Lazy and it's beyond hard to relive those emotions. I worry that she won't make it and I worry that Lazy is dead or stuck in the system or being abused by his aunts boyfriend.
Bre is my new "lost child"; another kid that I've "collected" (as some one put it at reflection last night) on my journeys here. She is another kid to worry about and feel guilty about since I'll never have to deal with have the stuff she has to deal with.
When I talked about Bre at reflection last night, one of the girls in our group said that what I said made her think about the annoyance and anger she had felt towards Bre during the day. Someone else told me later that they liked what I said. I only mention this because I'm happy two of my teammates thought and felt about what I said. This is what needs to happen. I need to share the worry I feel, for my own sanity and because it isn't fair and we aren't grateful enough. If I could change one thing about Massachusetts I'd make everyone more grateful. We complain about teachers and homework and AP classes. But instead we should be happy that we even have the opportunity to complain. We have a school with teachers that care enough to push us. We have safe homes to do our homework in and the means to make us so busy that homework gets pushed aside sometimes. And we have schools that can afford to teach AP classes instead of just the basics.
If there is one thing that the New Orleans program has taught me, it's that we have it good. There are so many screwed up things about this world and it's time to open our eyes to the bad stuff, even if only to understand just how lucky we are.
Hopefully, if everyone does that, then there will be less "lost children" in the future.
No comments:
Post a Comment