Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Damage control

I am realizing more and more that the world is such a different place for each individual, even the ones living down the street from me. When a child tells me he is late to an appointment because a kid got shot outside his front door that day, I don't get to think of how to get him out of that house or even that neighborhood, I get to help him want to survive another week, and help him know how. I never thought that answer would include "I know you sell drugs, and so do your parents, so if you sell, do it in a different neighborhood so people don't know who you know or where you live." I may tell them this knowing that for every week they stay alive they might come in to see me, and when they come in I might be able to help them decide that this doesn't have to be their life if they want out. And some days I might even believe what I say.