VIOLENCE IN DALLAS IS KILLING OUR CHILDREN -
HELP ME HELP STOP THE CRIES OF MOTHERS LOSING THEIR SONS AND DAUGHTERS TO THE VIOLENCE IN DALLAS. those of you who know me, know i do not even watch television. matter of fact i can honestly say i appear on tv more than i watch it - i usually come out on some news story or other about something else rediculous they are wanting to sensationalize in Dallas, but not do anything about. I have been promised the moon by reporter after reporter if i will just help them set up a 'gangie' looking 'feeling' news piece. i do it time after time and they come and film us and whatever gangie guys i have at my fingertips that day and off they go again, on to their next sensational story. meanwhile are they not looking at or listening to what they are even interviewing? when the lights go down and the cameras are packed up - the killing and dying continues as a river of blood is filling our highways and streets and sidewalks and everyone is just saying to themselves... 'well, i am still alive and so are my immediate family' well except for a few of them, and well most of my friends and neighbors all have sons or daughters in prison, on drugs, running around with the evil crowd but their children are not the guilty ones... its their bad friends who they always admit are really not 'THAT BAD' either, they just make bad choices. I had a guy over at my office a few weeks back and i wanted to slap him. WAKE UP!!!!! HELLO!!!! your daughter who you say is really a good kid with bad friends... i don't even know her and i already know by my 'i hate that feeling - feel' that she is most likely not only smoking pot, but using the date rape drug, and more than even more likely shes snorting heroin. now i really hope i'm wrong - but when i used to think surely i cannot be really thinking that about somebody's kid or kids, the next thing i know is some tragedy strikes the household and well... i was just afraid to think what i was thinking could really be true time and time again. What i'm seeing in Dallas IN DENIAL - TEXAS. is that the more affluent a neighborhood is the more the problem with the kids is hidden by a wall of money and influence as well as all the rehab hospitals and clinics getting rich off kids on drugs with wealthy parents who 'just want him to stop and want the problem to be overwith' once and for all.
I have a young boy who i swear if i could have written a script it could not have come out any better. i'm sitting in the back of my store, showroom, office whatever and i hear the door chime - i was begging a so-called religious woman with all the Lordy Hallelujas going on and all the talk about all she wants to do since she is retired is to help small ministries... HELLLLLLLOOOOO I'M THINKING AND EVEN SAYING OUT LOUD..... WE NEED A PLACE IN THE WORST WAY - A BUILDING THAT WE CAN HOUSE ALL OUR PROGRAMS UNDER ONE REAL ROOF - so while she has my mouth quasi watering / now i doubt everything they tell me about wanting to help knowing that they just promise me the moon and then walk outside get in their Lexus and turn on the loudest gospel or christian station and they drive out of our hood and into their good neighborhood and well they forget about me, us, and our problems.... which are once again, 'my calling' THE CHILDREN. so while i'm sitting back there talking to her and thinking 'now why am i even talking to her about her helping us out because it will not happen anyway?' this little boy comes walking around the wall of t-shirts i have hanging all over the place hoping someone will place an order so we can keep the doors open yet another day or so.... (okay i exaggerate - but i have to paint a serious picture or people then think i am a millionaire philanthropist).... so back to the little boy... he walks around the corner and he's carrying a skateboard. .... okay, i'm game... what does this kid want? why is her here? how did he get here? obviously on his skateboard. so he comes in closer and he tells me, 'i have been looking for this place for a long time' - why i told him? 'well i've seen you on television several times and you help kids don't you?' ouch... another kid in dallas who needs help! and nobody to help me help him either.... ouch... my pain starts to burn for him and for me thinking there is just NO WAY i can help another sad story. he continues.... I need to talk to you please.... i leave the woman sitting there and i go into my office with a door on it. i tell him to sit down and well... 'what is it, then i call him Mijo (my son) i call them all Mijo because sometimes it just helps them relax and talk better. he says, 'i have a horrible anger problem... and i fight a lot at school. i hate everyone except my grandmother who i don't hate. i'm thinking.. great another violent kid on my hands... i want to think .. this kid is heading for prison... he's just a mini convict skating his way to a future in hell.... but i stop myself from thinking that... instead 'why do you say you're violent Mijo? he says, finally that he thinks he's a horrible person and he wants to take out his anger on other people who don't deserve it - (now i'm thinking... is that person me?' - but i don't say or think that either for very long).... 'what makes you feel angry indside? he then tells me that he doesn't feel loved. that the only person he ever felt loved him is in prison now for crack cocaine. - how old are you i ask him? eleven years old. wow, i'm thinking and he knows about prison and crack cocaine and even how it is smoked from his uncle's bad example in front of him. then he continues that step his father hates it when the kid watches him shoot up heroin... yikes the kid is now trusting me and bearing his soul to me... i hate that part too because this is the part where i get sucked into trying to begin thinking and praying for a plan to come to me as the plot thickens... but its not a plot i have to remind myself...its this little boy's life... tragic life in Dallas, Texas where he feels he cannot talk to anyone about his life except someone he has seen on TV who he honestly believes cares about him and his hard life. he continued with 'when his father shoots up heroin, he wants the kid to help him tie off his arm, and the kid hates to watch him do it. so he refuses - the stepdad gets angry at him - and after shooting up his mother who also uses drugs fights with the step father who by now is crazy high on heroin and she is high on whatever she is high on and they begin to fight about something all the time. the step father starts beating on the boy's mother and unreported or unaddressed or what has become a very common daily occurrence in Dallas (not in all homes i know... so don't start... but in thousands of homes all over the city) and as they begin beating and defending and screaming and cussing and destroying the things in the room and around the house, the little boy's mother screams for him to rescue her from his stepfather. bear in mind the boy's size.. he is a wisp of a thing, no muscles yet, just frightened sad eyes looking at me as he tells me this story that by now i am fully sucked into it, my heart is crying from the inside and i'm trying to be brave for him, strong for him to know he has indeed come to the right place, where someone really does care about him, his future and his life, totally. we must get through this initial 'damage evaluation' period though. i told him... so what makes you - YOU - angry? he said that he feels so incapable of helping his mother when the drugs make them crazy - and when he loves her no matter what happens he always tries to pull his stepfather off her and to stop the beatings even by putting himself between them and causing the stepfather to then start beating him... i began to then look past his deep set and worried eyes at his face. i then noticed brown scars and i think he saw my attention begin to encompass more of him... he said 'i'm so afraid, please do not tell anyone i was here or what i have told you'. i promised. i told him that i would be here for him, no matter what. and that Bajito Onda is a safe place for kids and all who come here. and that we are not sickos or violent people. we're not perfect but he was in good hands. he told me that his anger towards other is caused by what happens when he tries to rescue his mother... he is beaten badly. oooooh i hated that part. yes, i wanted to go kill his parents or at least give them a taste of what they give him. i wanted to do many things, but i cannot and still hold his trust. i told him he could tell me more and that it would be okay. since that day he has come back many times - about once every two weeks, from his grandmother's house... and since then i have met her and even his little brother, who i also worry about, but i cannot save the world alone, so i must share their hardships with them and pray that someone someday will come and rescue all of us and help us help each other. on another day when he came he told me he was happy he had a 'friend' who was so cool that he could tell his problems to and who would not be mean to him. over the course of those visits to my place, we even exchanged Christmas presents... i gave him $20 which i took to his grandmother's house. then a couple days later she brought him by with a present for me and the sweetest card. it said something like 'to my friend who makes this world a better place for kids like me' ... it was kind of kid scrawled up in the corner and i loved it... i read it after they drove off... but i treasure it. since i never had a kid of my own, i never had those cards and scrawled 'I love you' things around to care about. Now he has brought three other friends who also are going through the same abusive problems... they are just little boys like him. I feel so bad for them, i can see why they form gangs, join gangs and hurt other people when hurt is all they were raised with. on one other visit he shared a deep dark secret with me and as it hurt me terribly i was proud that i am 'stand up' enough to take it as if i am not shocked or that he is a bad person. He told me how one of his uncles friends had 'touched him' and come into his bed with him and he stopped short... 'he said, i'm glad my uncle is in prison because his friends don't come around anymore'. i told him, it was behind him and now we have to move on - i gave him a 'good hug' and rubbed his back a little and told him we would get through these things... together. the last few times i've seen him he says he wants now to be a leader and to help troubled people like himself... he's doing a great job of it too, because as his friends see him changing and becoming stronger he is becoming a point of light in all of their darknesses. he told me that his school grades are getting better and now he's trying in school when before he didn't. i pray that he never becomes a statistic... and remains a silent vote of prevention - i pray he makes it through the maze of deadly dallas in denial. Please pray for all the little children out there tonite who need to know someone like us loves them and cares for their futures. Good nite.
I have a young boy who i swear if i could have written a script it could not have come out any better. i'm sitting in the back of my store, showroom, office whatever and i hear the door chime - i was begging a so-called religious woman with all the Lordy Hallelujas going on and all the talk about all she wants to do since she is retired is to help small ministries... HELLLLLLLOOOOO I'M THINKING AND EVEN SAYING OUT LOUD..... WE NEED A PLACE IN THE WORST WAY - A BUILDING THAT WE CAN HOUSE ALL OUR PROGRAMS UNDER ONE REAL ROOF - so while she has my mouth quasi watering / now i doubt everything they tell me about wanting to help knowing that they just promise me the moon and then walk outside get in their Lexus and turn on the loudest gospel or christian station and they drive out of our hood and into their good neighborhood and well they forget about me, us, and our problems.... which are once again, 'my calling' THE CHILDREN. so while i'm sitting back there talking to her and thinking 'now why am i even talking to her about her helping us out because it will not happen anyway?' this little boy comes walking around the wall of t-shirts i have hanging all over the place hoping someone will place an order so we can keep the doors open yet another day or so.... (okay i exaggerate - but i have to paint a serious picture or people then think i am a millionaire philanthropist).... so back to the little boy... he walks around the corner and he's carrying a skateboard. .... okay, i'm game... what does this kid want? why is her here? how did he get here? obviously on his skateboard. so he comes in closer and he tells me, 'i have been looking for this place for a long time' - why i told him? 'well i've seen you on television several times and you help kids don't you?' ouch... another kid in dallas who needs help! and nobody to help me help him either.... ouch... my pain starts to burn for him and for me thinking there is just NO WAY i can help another sad story. he continues.... I need to talk to you please.... i leave the woman sitting there and i go into my office with a door on it. i tell him to sit down and well... 'what is it, then i call him Mijo (my son) i call them all Mijo because sometimes it just helps them relax and talk better. he says, 'i have a horrible anger problem... and i fight a lot at school. i hate everyone except my grandmother who i don't hate. i'm thinking.. great another violent kid on my hands... i want to think .. this kid is heading for prison... he's just a mini convict skating his way to a future in hell.... but i stop myself from thinking that... instead 'why do you say you're violent Mijo? he says, finally that he thinks he's a horrible person and he wants to take out his anger on other people who don't deserve it - (now i'm thinking... is that person me?' - but i don't say or think that either for very long).... 'what makes you feel angry indside? he then tells me that he doesn't feel loved. that the only person he ever felt loved him is in prison now for crack cocaine. - how old are you i ask him? eleven years old. wow, i'm thinking and he knows about prison and crack cocaine and even how it is smoked from his uncle's bad example in front of him. then he continues that step his father hates it when the kid watches him shoot up heroin... yikes the kid is now trusting me and bearing his soul to me... i hate that part too because this is the part where i get sucked into trying to begin thinking and praying for a plan to come to me as the plot thickens... but its not a plot i have to remind myself...its this little boy's life... tragic life in Dallas, Texas where he feels he cannot talk to anyone about his life except someone he has seen on TV who he honestly believes cares about him and his hard life. he continued with 'when his father shoots up heroin, he wants the kid to help him tie off his arm, and the kid hates to watch him do it. so he refuses - the stepdad gets angry at him - and after shooting up his mother who also uses drugs fights with the step father who by now is crazy high on heroin and she is high on whatever she is high on and they begin to fight about something all the time. the step father starts beating on the boy's mother and unreported or unaddressed or what has become a very common daily occurrence in Dallas (not in all homes i know... so don't start... but in thousands of homes all over the city) and as they begin beating and defending and screaming and cussing and destroying the things in the room and around the house, the little boy's mother screams for him to rescue her from his stepfather. bear in mind the boy's size.. he is a wisp of a thing, no muscles yet, just frightened sad eyes looking at me as he tells me this story that by now i am fully sucked into it, my heart is crying from the inside and i'm trying to be brave for him, strong for him to know he has indeed come to the right place, where someone really does care about him, his future and his life, totally. we must get through this initial 'damage evaluation' period though. i told him... so what makes you - YOU - angry? he said that he feels so incapable of helping his mother when the drugs make them crazy - and when he loves her no matter what happens he always tries to pull his stepfather off her and to stop the beatings even by putting himself between them and causing the stepfather to then start beating him... i began to then look past his deep set and worried eyes at his face. i then noticed brown scars and i think he saw my attention begin to encompass more of him... he said 'i'm so afraid, please do not tell anyone i was here or what i have told you'. i promised. i told him that i would be here for him, no matter what. and that Bajito Onda is a safe place for kids and all who come here. and that we are not sickos or violent people. we're not perfect but he was in good hands. he told me that his anger towards other is caused by what happens when he tries to rescue his mother... he is beaten badly. oooooh i hated that part. yes, i wanted to go kill his parents or at least give them a taste of what they give him. i wanted to do many things, but i cannot and still hold his trust. i told him he could tell me more and that it would be okay. since that day he has come back many times - about once every two weeks, from his grandmother's house... and since then i have met her and even his little brother, who i also worry about, but i cannot save the world alone, so i must share their hardships with them and pray that someone someday will come and rescue all of us and help us help each other. on another day when he came he told me he was happy he had a 'friend' who was so cool that he could tell his problems to and who would not be mean to him. over the course of those visits to my place, we even exchanged Christmas presents... i gave him $20 which i took to his grandmother's house. then a couple days later she brought him by with a present for me and the sweetest card. it said something like 'to my friend who makes this world a better place for kids like me' ... it was kind of kid scrawled up in the corner and i loved it... i read it after they drove off... but i treasure it. since i never had a kid of my own, i never had those cards and scrawled 'I love you' things around to care about. Now he has brought three other friends who also are going through the same abusive problems... they are just little boys like him. I feel so bad for them, i can see why they form gangs, join gangs and hurt other people when hurt is all they were raised with. on one other visit he shared a deep dark secret with me and as it hurt me terribly i was proud that i am 'stand up' enough to take it as if i am not shocked or that he is a bad person. He told me how one of his uncles friends had 'touched him' and come into his bed with him and he stopped short... 'he said, i'm glad my uncle is in prison because his friends don't come around anymore'. i told him, it was behind him and now we have to move on - i gave him a 'good hug' and rubbed his back a little and told him we would get through these things... together. the last few times i've seen him he says he wants now to be a leader and to help troubled people like himself... he's doing a great job of it too, because as his friends see him changing and becoming stronger he is becoming a point of light in all of their darknesses. he told me that his school grades are getting better and now he's trying in school when before he didn't. i pray that he never becomes a statistic... and remains a silent vote of prevention - i pray he makes it through the maze of deadly dallas in denial. Please pray for all the little children out there tonite who need to know someone like us loves them and cares for their futures. Good nite.
posted by DEL HENDRIXSON | Monday, January 31, 2005
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home