Quote of the Week

"If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way" ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

A Harsh Tale ~ Written Anonymously
Posted by:Sally--Monday, April 25, 2011

Once upon a time there was a group of teens who hung out together, smoked dope together and generally enjoyed each other’s company. They would teach each other the ins and outs of drug dealing and swore loyalty to each other to defend themselves against others engaging in the same lifestyle. One place they liked to hang out at was Miss Betty Boop’s apartment. Now Miss Betty was a bit older, used and dealt a little but generally got her money through being a sex worker. Her little kids were a sorry sight who often had little food in their bellies. The teens felt bad for the little kids and would give them whatever they had to eat and sometimes would take them to a nearby park and push them on the swings.

One day, Miss Betty was distraught because some man up the street had ripped her off in a drug deal. She goaded the teens to do something to help her get her money back.

Well being young men, full of themselves and with their minds buzzed from the weed they were smoking, they had sympathy for her plight and listened to her goading them into doing something to that bast*rd. One young man had access to guns so he went and got them, and for safety’s sake, they discussed that he probably needed some ‘deputies’ to accompany him to get the money back from this man up the street. They figured they could do this a little later when they were just a little bit more stoned, since as chivalrous as they were, they still had just the little bit of a nagging thought that somehow this was not a video game.

Just then one of the young men got a phone call from his mom telling him to come home, his newborn baby niece had just arrived for a visit and didn’t he want to see her? The boys all knew that that mom was crazy and would show up at each of their houses till she found him to drag him home if he didn’t leave right away. So with high fives and the standard goodbye of the group “be safe” infused with more feeling than he had ever meant it in the past, he went home.
Later that evening, shots were heard in the neighborhood. Something went wrong terribly wrong with the boys’ mission. The man met them with his own gun. At the end of the brief encounter the man was injured, one teen lay shot in the back and the other two teens were on the run, dazed and confused over how something that seemed so straightforward, could not have gone as planned.

The injured teen died in the hospital. The man was treated by the judicial system as a robbery victim without consideration that he too had done plenty of robbing and destruction of others’ lives. The two other young men were caught, thrown into the adult system (age does not matter with some crimes) and were pitted against each other so they would rat on each other. Well the younger of the two was the more impulsive and unpredictable of them. No one would be surprised if he didn’t have at least ADHD if not some other mental health conditions, but no matter, he got life for the death of his friend. The older young man has a few years of time to do, but will come back to a community that knows he sold out his friend to save himself.

The family of the dead teen does not feel justice has been done, they were just glad the courtroom fiasco was finally over. Nothing can bring their boy back and there is no joy in knowing their neighbor’s boy has been locked up for life.

But what about that boy who went to see the new baby? This story is a lot for him to think about. He could have played any of the roles in this tragic tale, if not for a crazy mom who never was off his back. Now as he sits in a residential D&A rehab program, he has to make up his mind about what to do with his life and how he is going to handle the complex community dynamics that resulted in the destruction of the lives of his friends and their families and that continue to ripple throughout the whole community. Like a stone thrown into the water, the waves from that day continue to keep the water’s surface unclear. What will he decide to do in that pond? Will he focus on his life or will he allow himself to get entangled into the chaotic lives of others in the community again? Fortunately where he is now, he has plenty of time to think, and professional help with the thinking process. Crazy mom is grateful indeed.

(Photographer: Simon Howden)


Wilma said...

Thank you for a sobering post. It's given me more determination to keep being "the crazy mother" my son says I am.

Anonymous said...

ThanK YOU. I am a "crazy mother" too....I really needed to hear this today.


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