The Wire presented a fascinating show tonite - fascinating if you are on the outside looking in, like watching a colony of ants as they go about life, the same cycles, the same twists and turns, new characters, different actors. The difference is that the Wire has done something I have never seen on television, started with the innocent child and portrayed how the socioeconomic factors, politics, systemic failures, parental failures, turn a caring protective older brother into a cold street gangster. It flips and accurately portrays the result of the spoiled ghetto rich kid, suddenly faced with brutal and real decisions, and unable to cope with them. And then it shows our faceless children, parentless, one in the system, one still with the parents(heroine addicts) and their difficulty even surviving on the street.
The one child, Randy, was desperate to stay out of state, out of the foster system. He snitched, told what he thought he knew about a murder, which turned out to be nothing, to stay with his foster mom - now the foster mother has been severely injured (i don't think she died, but have to watch again to be sure) and he is once again homeless, because of the unfortunate carelessness of a cop.
Which led me to wonder, why is suffering, true helpless, life shaping, thought forming, pain imposed on us as children. Is there a reason that the most devastating events have to occur during that phase of life, when our care, decisions, living, are really not our own. Or is it because, by the inherent nature of reliance based on age, it is the one time during this cycle called life, that we are open and able to be scarred. Think about it, every traumatic event, that shattered your stability, formed what you thought about you, happened 18 and under. I am willing to bet that the most traumatic events actually occurred 13 and under. Why. God protects the little children. They are inherently his. And those who come against children are supposed to suffer a mighty wrath. Why then, are children so exposed? So abused, so neglected, so prone to the real underbelly of the world. There is a silent tragedy, a belief that they are alone, no one cares, no one hears them.
While we worry about nonsense, whether a coworker likes us, or what he/she said, there is a child right now, being beaten, molested, witnessing abuse, feeding themselves, running away, fighting for an internal right to be.....just to be. To exist and breathe, without fright, without torment. Suffering children are not necessarily poor either, but might reside within your very house, silently swallowing the inability to reach out for help. Where can they turn? Adults play politics, don't want to step on toes, sure the child is exaggerating. Social services, school, teachers, well, what can you tell them that won't get you into more trouble. The system is designed to wait until a certain age and then build cages for them, their certain destination, or a spot in the morgue.
Even when I try not to, I can feel others pain, absorb it deeply into my being. I often shield my mind, by strictly monitoring what I watch, who I talk to, how much I take in, to avoid this pain. I opened up tonite, allowed it in, allowed tears for each and every child that I cannot help, will never know. The ones who will not grow old, will become hard and burdened with hate and will inflict similar pain on others. I cried tonite for our children in the system, dealing with heart wrenching judgement and ridiculous expectations, never allowed to really mourn their situation, come to terms with the abandonment, always compared against other kids who will never have any idea how it feels to witness and live violence.
There must be a reason, a divine order to this thing, the soul's preparation, in some way, for something bigger and better. I know that my finite understanding cannot grasp, leaving me only to mourn and ask why, dear God, why.....
