PregnancyFamilyEducation Blogs
March 5, 2010
Fraggle
I heard many frightening stories about Fraggle.
The boys said he knew me.
The boys told me he was involved in a shoot-out in the middle of a street.
The boys said Fraggle carried a gun every day, everywhere he went.
"T, dis nigga is crazy. He robbed a check cashing place."
"I was arrested with three of his firearms."
"Whenever he's around, niggas end up shooting at us."
"T, he said he knows you from the projects."
They described him.
"He's 24, real tall, and light-skinned."
"I don't know him," I said. [more]
- Tags: gun violence, Growth, Gangs
March 2, 2010
Bodies that are Long Dead
The boys and girls sat on the steps of a project building, talking about how they hated Plaza Park.
"Why don't you like Plaza Park?" I asked
"They killed my man Ace," said one girl.
I was stunned. "You don't even know Ace. He died in 1995. You were, like, six!"
No one responded.
The projects change.
My friends grew up and moved out.
There are new families.
Today's gang members were just children — running, riding bikes, and playing in parks — when I hung there.
Now, they were claiming Cathedral Rockies. [more]
- Tags: Gangs, Violence, Generations
February 11, 2010
The Square Street Gang
A probation office referred me to Mr. Kramer.
Mr. Kramer's 15-year-old son was a heavily involved gang member.
Connecting with the son was crucial.
He could bring me into the gang.
I did a home visit.
Mr. Kramer was in his 60's.
He was weak, sluggish, and walked slung over his cane.
Kramer Jr. wasn't home.
Mr. Kramer and I sat on the couch.
We talked about his son.
"His mother left us." His voice trembled. "I had Kramer Jr. since his infancy."
"He's had trouble in school. He's slow. He has a learning disability." [more]
February 4, 2010
The Plaza Park Boys vs. the Project Boys
Something seemed wrong.
Every day the Plaza Park Boys hung at the playground entrance.
But as I drove by, the place was strangely empty.
I continued to the bottom of the street.
There they were, standing at the corner, crowded together, talking.
I beeped the horn, rolled down the window, and yelled, "What's up?"
Nothing.
I drove three blocks away and parked by the housing development.
As I got out the car I saw the Plaza Park Boys leave the street corner and walk toward the projects.
Quickly, I ran into the projects to see what was going on. [more]
October 23, 2009
"I’m gonna shoot Diamond in her ass.”
Diamond and Crystal were twin sisters. Big, built like men. Old as my mother. Intimidating, and they knew it. And they were crack heads.
They bullied people in the projects. They hustled them. They robbed them. And no one did anything about it because they were two BIG bitches. [more]
August 31, 2009
Erratic charity
After Sunday morning worship I was driving down the street, my eyes almost blinded by the sun's brightness. In the distance, I saw silhouettes of three people standing on the corner outside of a mom and pop convenient store.
I drove nearer.
It was three of my boys.
I pulled over.
"Hey, what's up?" I asked
"What's up T.?"
"T, we broke," one of the boys said.
That was his way of saying, "The program’s over."
"T, you want to be the driver?" (Referring to a drive by shooting)
What he meant was, "We're back to what we were doing before." [more]
August 25, 2009
“Say something positive about me at my funeral.”
This is the last week of our summer program. I asked the boys how they felt about the program ending. They sat silently with their heads hung low. [more]
- Tags: Violence, Intervention, Gangs
August 21, 2009
"Don’t ever say that we don’t care."
In response to a remark made by one of the boys, a staff member, her voice filled with emotion, said, "You can call us rats, snitches, cops, informants, or even federal agents, but don't ever say that we don't care." [more]
- Tags: My Boys, Intervention, Gangs
August 20, 2009
“You calling me a liar?!”
I walked into the room angry because six of the boys did not come back to work after cashing their checks the other day. Now they were back.
I sat in a chair outside their semi-circle. A few of the boys tried to talk to me but I ignored them. "She’s mad," one of the boys said under his breath. I was glad they could see that I was upset.
In my head I was fussing, "Why do I continue to do this?" [more]
- Tags: Urban Life, My Boys, Gangs
August 12, 2009
Suspicion . . .
The boys were very suspicious today. I am not sure what happened. They had many questions, all of which I have answered many times before.
One of the boys assumed I was a federal agent, because otherwise he couldn’t understand why I would take them out to dinner and give them a job. "She must be working for the feds." [more]
