I am inspired by reading this painful and telling story....I'm a white girl with loads of privilege who happened to get a glimpse of the real world when I entered the world of social work. I emerged from the cocoon, a pretty butterfly in an ugly, ugly world. I actually remember the exact moment that I became aware that I was not like 'everyone else'. I remember discovering that I was to blame for the suffering in the world. I first discovered the little people 'in africa'.....that far away 'country'....we sent them money and had their pictures pasted on our fridge, so that every time I grabbed a glass of whatever I wanted, I would think of them. good old Christian charity.
my first days working in the grouphome, I was shocked by what I saw. kids, just years younger than me, abused by a system that perpetrated the very abuse they had been subject to in their home. these kids, full of life and love and energy and desire, dumped on a doorstep by caring adults who didn't know any better.
I still talk to some of those kids. brave warriors of life. and I carried their stories into the reservations. I am still sorry that when I tried to make sure that those kids stayed with their parents that it wasn't meant to be. I still sit with their mom on the corner of dundas and Richmond and just say 'fuck a duck' as we both sink into our vices. I am sad and I am sorry and I hope that what I have learned will manifest in the hearts of my children so this history will never be repeated.
amen
