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]

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]

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]

An unmarked police cruiser waited for me in the church parking lot.

Two officers walked toward me. I knew them. We worked together.

Still, this was unexpected. [more]

Part of our summer program includes hiring a “handyman.” The handyman’s role is to be a liaison between the staff and our program participants. Preferably, the handyman is a former — and reformed — gang member.

Yesterday we interviewed a young man.

He finished my sentences.

I asked, “Why do you want this—”

“Job?” he said.

“What qualifies you to work­­—”

“With gang members?” he said.

“I’m certified. I’ve been a gunman since my youth.” He paused. “On the streets, my reputation speaks for itself.” [more]