The stories I hear get pieced together randomly day by day. A sentence today, a comment yesterday, a whole conversation from a month ago becomes a story after a while.
Here are some comments made in between jokes and laughter mostly at the dinner table this week. Can hear the hearts of these kids. Can you get what they are saying.
" I got a text from my brother....he said since I moved in with those white folk I've forgotten who raised my sorry ass. " (this is the brother in jail who asked for money last month....she didn't send it)
My mom used to call me a "hoe"
At home I didn't talk.
That guy that I told you about...my mom's boyfriend that did that thing that I told you about saw me at work today, he came through my line at the store.
My auntie put fingernail polish remover in my chicken that she fed me once.
My brother beat me with a wire so bad that I was bleeding. The teacher at school noticed I couldn't sit down. My mom bailed him outta jail and kicked me out of the house. I was 13.
I don't know why my mom and siblings don't like me.
I didn't realize he was my father until I was much older. I always thought he was my uncle. But when I found out he was my father it was when he decided to choose his other family over ours. It didn't matter cuz I never thought of him as my father.
These are just a few of the short stories that have kept me up this week. I have many more. More that I don't want to write down. Mostly because it I can't. There is something about recording that makes it seem too real. And I am afraid of offending some of you. I don't want to forget them. When these kids are hard to deal with, you need to remember their story. It puts everything in perspective.
This was the week that the court made the ruling on DOMA. I really didn't follow it. I was too busy cooking for kids that didn't have food, driving a kid around to school interviews that didn't have any parent that would own them, helping a young mom meet her goals for education and parenting while I was trying to show her the love of a mom, watching little kids, rocking a baby to sleep at 3 am so her mom could sleep, making a cake for a young lady that has not had a real birthday party. Taking a young lady shopping for a church trip who's momma wouldn't give her any money (while shopping we saw her brothers at the store shopping with their mom's money....talk about a hurt kid...) Renee was busy at Tree Street Youth training to be a street leader. Barbara was busy helping around the house and with her little sisters so I could do all these things. DOMA didn't seem so important. My religious rights didn't seem so important. God is still on His throne.
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