Ever since a conversation i had with Damian (the manager at Crippie) this morning i have had this uneasy feeling in my stomach. My experience on the streets has been great so far. I even feel blessed to have experienced the things that seem to be "negative", because it better allows me to speak out, with a greater knowledge and understanding, about those very things. But that specific conversation this morning really put me in a bad frame of mind. I shouldn't let it get to me, and am usually pretty good at that, but i don't seem to have power over this one. I can't seem to get it out of my head, and i just feel down about it.
Basically, Damian told me that he was told by another lady (i won't mention names as to not get anyone in trouble in any way) that works for another organization, that "several" of the NGO's are not in agreement with what i am doing, and they are "boycotting" me. Now that actually sounds kind of funny when i type it and i actually don't even know what that means, but yeah. Damian told the lady that he would tell me and he did, and then when i inquired about who exactly she was talking about he called her to find out. She said she had gotten the information from a colleague who had been to a meeting where this was talked about. Apparently they were upset because i did this without consulting them or including them. This is strange for me because i sent out a press release for that very reason two weeks before the 16 days, so that if anyone wanted to meet up they could. I got contacted by several people from several different organization who showed support, and a couple that even wanted to meet. And that we did.
So i don't know who has a problem, and what it is all about, but i want to make it clear that i am not doing this for organizations. I am doing what i am doing for the kids. I do however want everyone involved with them to be involved with this, but the only way to do that is by making contact. Likewise, if people really do have problems with me, i would like to think that we are adult enough for them to come to me and we can talk it out. This whole thing could however just be a big misunderstanding and maybe no one has a problem. I have always tried to work with everyone, and work against the organizational politics, that only make the situation on the streets more complex. So i guess there could be a bigger reason why this even came up at all. For me to highlight this point.
One thing i have experienced is there is a lot of competition and organizational politics within this sector. I think it has gotten better since when i first came here, but it still exists, and it holds the kids right where they are. I hope for a day when we can all work together, agree to disagree about certain things, and work in unity towards finding solutions for these kids. No one person can do it alone! But it requires dedication to teamwork and networking, along with all of us basically being willing to "work ourselves out of a job". I hope this happens! I hope that others are striving for the same thing!
So here is the venue. I am opening it up. Please feel free to contact me if you have a problem with what i am doing. Please let me know how we can better work together. Please let me know if you support what i am doing. I need that too! Both negative and positive input are greatly needed for anything and everything we do in life, both privately and professionally. All i know is that i have seen eight years of children dying, drugging themselves stupid, wasting away, and being ignored by society (until they get under society's skin, that is) and i can't bear to see this for 8 more years! Desperate times call for desperate measures. This is my desperate act. I pray and hope that i have your support, even if you don't fully understand or agree with it.
I am sorry if this blog came off a little whiny and PMSy! This is normally not my style. But this has just been bugging me all day! Thanks for letting me vent!
Friday, December 5, 2008
Day 11: 5 December - Let the Images of them be Burned in our Minds
I had the pleasure of going to a photo exhibition/film screening last night. I was invited by Clare, who has been diligently devoted to photographically documenting my journey. The exhibition was in downtown Cape Town last night so i walked up to see what was going on. The photos exhibited were what people call "street photography", and they were taken by mostly young, up and coming photographers. All of the pictures were taken in the townships; kind of a "day in the life" kind of thing. The images were striking and beautiful, yet dripping with contrast and irony. One picture that really struck me was of a young boy laying on top of a toilet, in a seemingly "informal settlement". It was one of those toilets you find in the "developing" areas, where the people have to go outside to use it. The boy was laying on top of the toilet and the picture was taken from below. Just under the boy's face, there was something written on the toilet with paint, "Better life". Striking.
After a crowd gathered at the venue, they played a film about the Then and Now photo exhibition. The film focused on the journey of photographer Paul Weinberg, travelling around visiting friends from his past. But these weren't just any friends. Paul and his 7 comrades were visual messengers from South Africa to the rest of the world during the Apartheid Era. They were documentary photographers, of all different races and backgrounds, that were dedicated to documenting the "wrongs" of Apartheid from all different angles. For instance, Guy Tillim's pictures often displayed the graphic violence of the ground level in the townships, whilst Gisele Wulfsohn's photos showed images of the "other side" of Apartheid, often capturing images of domestic workers being mistreated and the ugliness of "white superiority". Each photographer doing their part, playing their role, to get out the story to the rest of the world about what was going on in South Africa. If not for these brave photographers, and others like them, the rest of the world may not have gotten a clear "picture" of what was going on in South Africa during those dark years.
It got me thinking. What if the rest of the world would have become calloused to seeing pictures of young black children crying and running from military police, images of black men being malled by police dogs, photos of the hundreds upon thousands of people murdered by the Apartheid Regime and the many other atrocities captured on film. If people just accepted that "that's happening" and were not moved by what they saw, Apartheid might still be around to this very day. But people were disgusted by what they saw. They protested. They wrote letters to their governments. They rallied. They fought. And the images they saw were the wind that fanned the fire that burned within them to cry out and fight for change.
2008. There are children living on the streets of our biggest cities. Cape Town is one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world. It might possibly be one of the most beautiful ones! But it is a city that stinks with harsh contrasts. Much of the poverty of Cape Town can be "hidden" from tourists, but the children that live on the streets cannot. They are a direct reminder of the past, a thorn in the side of tourism, a nuisance to businesses and an embarrassment to the government. But the saddest part is, they are a part of life in Cape Town. People accept the fact that they are there. Locals pass by them without even thinking twice; calloused by daily images of a young child digging through a rubbish bin for food. Foreign tourists alike are calloused in their own way. It is almost as if they "expect" to see "street children" in a third world country and they patronizingly take photos of and with them, and give them food and money enabling their drug use and life on the streets. Very few people are "struck" by the image of a child living on the streets of Cape Town. If you took the same child and placed him or her in a different context, say Zurich, people would be shocked! They would approach the kid, try and help, be uncomfortable about the child being there, and be moved to do something. But in Cape Town, we have accepted it as the norm.
Many people have asked me what i hope to achieve with my 16 days on the streets. At the very least i hope to stir conversation and dialogue about the situation of these children. Thinking bigger, i would love to create an awareness that reaches the masses. An awareness where the vast majority says, "wait a minute! it is WRONG to allow a child to live on the streets!!". Where the majority of the people do not accept it and no longer see it as "normal", but view it as child abuse to allow a child to live on the streets. Not to pass by the child feeling bad, angry, sad, guilty, but dis-empowered to see a solution and merely move on with life. But that the image of a child living on the streets would be so strikingly WRONG to a vast majority of people that change would be inevitable. That mere awareness and acknowledgment of the masses is the foundation we need to begin to tackle this huge social ill. And with that foundation laid we can begin to put in the work and structures to see real change come in the lives of these children.
I urge you to no longer view these children from experience, whether past, present or future. But see them for what they are: children who have been robbed of so much, but need us to be adults and guide them and direct them towards better choices. I sit here with tears in my eyes and beg you not not be calloused by the images of children...CHILDREN living on the streets. Allow the images of them to burn in your mind and haunt you, as they do me, to the point where we all push for change together!
After a crowd gathered at the venue, they played a film about the Then and Now photo exhibition. The film focused on the journey of photographer Paul Weinberg, travelling around visiting friends from his past. But these weren't just any friends. Paul and his 7 comrades were visual messengers from South Africa to the rest of the world during the Apartheid Era. They were documentary photographers, of all different races and backgrounds, that were dedicated to documenting the "wrongs" of Apartheid from all different angles. For instance, Guy Tillim's pictures often displayed the graphic violence of the ground level in the townships, whilst Gisele Wulfsohn's photos showed images of the "other side" of Apartheid, often capturing images of domestic workers being mistreated and the ugliness of "white superiority". Each photographer doing their part, playing their role, to get out the story to the rest of the world about what was going on in South Africa. If not for these brave photographers, and others like them, the rest of the world may not have gotten a clear "picture" of what was going on in South Africa during those dark years.
It got me thinking. What if the rest of the world would have become calloused to seeing pictures of young black children crying and running from military police, images of black men being malled by police dogs, photos of the hundreds upon thousands of people murdered by the Apartheid Regime and the many other atrocities captured on film. If people just accepted that "that's happening" and were not moved by what they saw, Apartheid might still be around to this very day. But people were disgusted by what they saw. They protested. They wrote letters to their governments. They rallied. They fought. And the images they saw were the wind that fanned the fire that burned within them to cry out and fight for change.
2008. There are children living on the streets of our biggest cities. Cape Town is one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world. It might possibly be one of the most beautiful ones! But it is a city that stinks with harsh contrasts. Much of the poverty of Cape Town can be "hidden" from tourists, but the children that live on the streets cannot. They are a direct reminder of the past, a thorn in the side of tourism, a nuisance to businesses and an embarrassment to the government. But the saddest part is, they are a part of life in Cape Town. People accept the fact that they are there. Locals pass by them without even thinking twice; calloused by daily images of a young child digging through a rubbish bin for food. Foreign tourists alike are calloused in their own way. It is almost as if they "expect" to see "street children" in a third world country and they patronizingly take photos of and with them, and give them food and money enabling their drug use and life on the streets. Very few people are "struck" by the image of a child living on the streets of Cape Town. If you took the same child and placed him or her in a different context, say Zurich, people would be shocked! They would approach the kid, try and help, be uncomfortable about the child being there, and be moved to do something. But in Cape Town, we have accepted it as the norm.
Many people have asked me what i hope to achieve with my 16 days on the streets. At the very least i hope to stir conversation and dialogue about the situation of these children. Thinking bigger, i would love to create an awareness that reaches the masses. An awareness where the vast majority says, "wait a minute! it is WRONG to allow a child to live on the streets!!". Where the majority of the people do not accept it and no longer see it as "normal", but view it as child abuse to allow a child to live on the streets. Not to pass by the child feeling bad, angry, sad, guilty, but dis-empowered to see a solution and merely move on with life. But that the image of a child living on the streets would be so strikingly WRONG to a vast majority of people that change would be inevitable. That mere awareness and acknowledgment of the masses is the foundation we need to begin to tackle this huge social ill. And with that foundation laid we can begin to put in the work and structures to see real change come in the lives of these children.
I urge you to no longer view these children from experience, whether past, present or future. But see them for what they are: children who have been robbed of so much, but need us to be adults and guide them and direct them towards better choices. I sit here with tears in my eyes and beg you not not be calloused by the images of children...CHILDREN living on the streets. Allow the images of them to burn in your mind and haunt you, as they do me, to the point where we all push for change together!
days with ryan...
some more images from my days with ryan...
the boys about town...
the grand parade in the early morning
ralph - a man of great wisdom
the king of the grand parade...
the king of the grand parade...
ralph/wise guy again on the parade in the early morning
ralph discussing the springboks (yes springboks!) latest game with Anwar before he opens
checking the headlines on the way to the grand parade
sleeping quarters
100 hours of scratching - the final hour
(brown seen post bathing and rather stoked!)
(brown seen post bathing and rather stoked!)
there ain't no lip-ice on the streets...
post breakfast chats at the soup kitchen
Anwar who runs a store at the parade... Loves to chat, has great insights and for some bizarre reason, supports the All Blacks...
the shoe situation gets creative
soup kitchen (manager seated bottom right - awesome guy)
moments before the day begins at the soup kitchen
breakfast time...
this is actually from the first day when ryan handed out some shirts on the parade...
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Remind me of my innocence...
People on the street have this time round been overwhelmed by seeing how MUCH Ryan cares about them. I sense that many of them feel that he is doing it with them in mind whether child or adult.
While sitting with him at the Crippie last weekand hearing the guys tell their stories with ease made me realise how comfortable they are sharing their lives with him believing that somehow it will benefit the cause.During this time one of the guys who is now in his twenties told us of how he had moved through all the institutions,reformatories and prisons there are in cape town, he spoke about how he would always get into fights and be placed somewhere else. His fists kept him moving and running because they wanted to take him.The scars and tatoos on his body was testmony to this and it seemed that some how he was still punching. He knew most of the people at all these different places and had vivid recollections of his time spent there.His life had been a fight on and off the streets.
'I saw a picture of you when you must have been about 8....on the front cover of an old annual report '...really? he said. His face lit up and it seemed as if he stopped punching for one minute.'How did I look'...he asked. 'Like an eight year old...... innocent, small, optimsitic about life and its wonders, your face was clear and there were no scars to testify of anything. He hung onto my words like a prisoner behind bars...but for a moment the cell was opened and he was given the opportunity to hold his child he had not heard or seen for a very long time, his eyes shining as he asked more questions of which I had no answers because i didnt know him then. Silence. He looked at me waiting...his eyes were saying 'remind me of my innocence, what happened all this time, i want to go back....they took it from me...i want it back.
' I want to know more when you see him again....please is what his eyes were saying. The cell is shut as the key turns. The glow disappears as he stirs the 10 o clock stew at The Crippie.
I am reminded of how many other boys like him were robbed of their innocence by forces unknown to them. We have seen to many tears and heard to many stories and still we cannot protect their innocence. Its sad to see a country hearing the cries of its children and not taking responsibilty for them because its their choice. I too over the last 7 years have been frustrated to see kids being allowed to fall into cycles of self destruction because they knew no better. I agree with Ryan that children shouldnt be allowed to live on the streets and its sad to have to remind young men about the days before their innocence were taken.I do not want to continue having to read the eyes of them saying 'Remind me of my innocence......Im out.
While sitting with him at the Crippie last weekand hearing the guys tell their stories with ease made me realise how comfortable they are sharing their lives with him believing that somehow it will benefit the cause.During this time one of the guys who is now in his twenties told us of how he had moved through all the institutions,reformatories and prisons there are in cape town, he spoke about how he would always get into fights and be placed somewhere else. His fists kept him moving and running because they wanted to take him.The scars and tatoos on his body was testmony to this and it seemed that some how he was still punching. He knew most of the people at all these different places and had vivid recollections of his time spent there.His life had been a fight on and off the streets.
'I saw a picture of you when you must have been about 8....on the front cover of an old annual report '...really? he said. His face lit up and it seemed as if he stopped punching for one minute.'How did I look'...he asked. 'Like an eight year old...... innocent, small, optimsitic about life and its wonders, your face was clear and there were no scars to testify of anything. He hung onto my words like a prisoner behind bars...but for a moment the cell was opened and he was given the opportunity to hold his child he had not heard or seen for a very long time, his eyes shining as he asked more questions of which I had no answers because i didnt know him then. Silence. He looked at me waiting...his eyes were saying 'remind me of my innocence, what happened all this time, i want to go back....they took it from me...i want it back.
' I want to know more when you see him again....please is what his eyes were saying. The cell is shut as the key turns. The glow disappears as he stirs the 10 o clock stew at The Crippie.
I am reminded of how many other boys like him were robbed of their innocence by forces unknown to them. We have seen to many tears and heard to many stories and still we cannot protect their innocence. Its sad to see a country hearing the cries of its children and not taking responsibilty for them because its their choice. I too over the last 7 years have been frustrated to see kids being allowed to fall into cycles of self destruction because they knew no better. I agree with Ryan that children shouldnt be allowed to live on the streets and its sad to have to remind young men about the days before their innocence were taken.I do not want to continue having to read the eyes of them saying 'Remind me of my innocence......Im out.
Day 10: 4 December - Too Many Years
The other day Wise Guy introduced me to one of his friends named Mogamat. I have probably passed by Mogamat more than a million times before but never noticed him, and neither of us were interested in conversation with the other for whatever reason. I shook his hand and he immediately introduced himself as the "second longest stroller on the Parade", Wise being the first. Then he went straight into how he never bothered talking to people that worked with the kids, especially not foreigners; i guess he was giving an explanation of why we had never spoken before. I also told him i don't have all that much contact with the "older guys". My excuse.
He told me how he came to the streets. He was only 5 years old. He was a part of the Kaap se Klopse and he was left behind one evening. He met up with a group of kids and they introduced him to glue and the rest was history. After that was a exciting, yet painful chain of events. 27 years later Mogamat looks like someone who traveled through the desert for years. His skin is brown and weathered, his eyes are wrinkled on the sides from a permanent squint, he is missing several teeth, his left eye is continuously blood shot, and he has several scars on his face. His hair is curly and unkept, his clothes are baggy, dirty and falling off of him, and he speaks slowly, often slurring his words even when he is sober. He has had a tough life!
I have enjoyed hanging out and talking to my friend over the past week or so. He prefers to be drunk. He has terrible asthma, along with other sicknesses, and has to use a pump. He showed me a refill for his pump that he bought from his "friend". He needs it to be able to breath; most especially at night. Without the pump he could have an attack and die. His "friend" saw which one he uses and told him he has one laying at home. He brought it and sold it to him. Mogamat says he does not have any family, and few friends. He often says, "There is only one guy out there for me and that is Ralph Morgan (Wise Guy)!". He also says, "When i do good, no one remembers. But when i do bad, no one forgets." He says it in a way in which i can see he feels it as the words come out of his mouth. He wants to tattoo it on his forehead. He also loves my "Peace" tattoo on my neck and wants one exactly like it, but he would rather go for the front part of the neck.
Mogamat is honest. Honest about where he has been. Honest about where he is now. And honest about where he is going. It seems he wishes for another life, and time, in which to live...maybe a second chance, but he knows that he will not get one. A lot of the younger guys don't respect him one bit. They see him as an "old drunk". They speak disrespectfully and he fears that they will beat him up in his sleep. Mogamat is alone. It breaks my heart! When i sit and speak with him i look deep into his eyes and try and see that kid that first came to Cape Town 27 years ago. I want to grab that kid and hug him! Tell him to go home, leave the glue and stay in school. But i can't. It is too late for Mogamat. Though he is only 32 he looks no younger than 60. That kid is long gone! I can't change his past, but i can work my hardest to change the present and future realities for the present and future Mogamats. And in the meantime, i can sit and laugh and talk to Mogamat.
He told me how he came to the streets. He was only 5 years old. He was a part of the Kaap se Klopse and he was left behind one evening. He met up with a group of kids and they introduced him to glue and the rest was history. After that was a exciting, yet painful chain of events. 27 years later Mogamat looks like someone who traveled through the desert for years. His skin is brown and weathered, his eyes are wrinkled on the sides from a permanent squint, he is missing several teeth, his left eye is continuously blood shot, and he has several scars on his face. His hair is curly and unkept, his clothes are baggy, dirty and falling off of him, and he speaks slowly, often slurring his words even when he is sober. He has had a tough life!
I have enjoyed hanging out and talking to my friend over the past week or so. He prefers to be drunk. He has terrible asthma, along with other sicknesses, and has to use a pump. He showed me a refill for his pump that he bought from his "friend". He needs it to be able to breath; most especially at night. Without the pump he could have an attack and die. His "friend" saw which one he uses and told him he has one laying at home. He brought it and sold it to him. Mogamat says he does not have any family, and few friends. He often says, "There is only one guy out there for me and that is Ralph Morgan (Wise Guy)!". He also says, "When i do good, no one remembers. But when i do bad, no one forgets." He says it in a way in which i can see he feels it as the words come out of his mouth. He wants to tattoo it on his forehead. He also loves my "Peace" tattoo on my neck and wants one exactly like it, but he would rather go for the front part of the neck.
Mogamat is honest. Honest about where he has been. Honest about where he is now. And honest about where he is going. It seems he wishes for another life, and time, in which to live...maybe a second chance, but he knows that he will not get one. A lot of the younger guys don't respect him one bit. They see him as an "old drunk". They speak disrespectfully and he fears that they will beat him up in his sleep. Mogamat is alone. It breaks my heart! When i sit and speak with him i look deep into his eyes and try and see that kid that first came to Cape Town 27 years ago. I want to grab that kid and hug him! Tell him to go home, leave the glue and stay in school. But i can't. It is too late for Mogamat. Though he is only 32 he looks no younger than 60. That kid is long gone! I can't change his past, but i can work my hardest to change the present and future realities for the present and future Mogamats. And in the meantime, i can sit and laugh and talk to Mogamat.
Day 10: 4 December - The Rats
The rats seem to have been a real "theme" in my time here on the streets so far. You see some of them scurrying around in the day. Those are the real hardcore ones! They are the worst because they are the ones that are not scared of the light or scared of people. They just look at you, hiss and continue on with their day. Most of the rats come out in the night. They are all shapes and sizes, but really serve no purpose of "good" on the streets. They bring nothing to the table. They come only to take! They crawl all over you in the night when you sleep and if you don't show a sign of movement they will bite you; literally eat your flesh until you protest! Some of the older homeless people actually have huge pieces of their ears missing from the rats nibbling away at them over the years. One guy even has a chunk bitten out of his nose. The rats creep and crawl at night... looking for what they can take, what they can eat, what they can steal...infecting everything they touch, plaguing those that dwell on the streets.
Unfortunately, those little ugly rodents are not the only "rats" the kids have to deal with on a daily basis. There are other rats that come to steal, kill and destroy, as they nibble away at the lives of the kids. Who are they? Older gangsters, drug dealers, corrupt cops and security guards, paedophiles, just to name some of the main culprits. Like the rodent rats, most of these rats come out in the night.
They prey on the kids...
The drug dealers on Long Street stand and watch the young addicts running around trying to get their next hit. They smile as the child brings them his money to buy his poison. They take from kids and infect them; nibbling away at the child's innocence through his drug addiction.
The paedophiles creep around looking for a "tasty treat". They are ruthless in their urges. Since i have been here there has been much talk about a rat called Frank, who is picking up young girls, drugging them up and taking pornographic pictures and videos of him engaging with them in sexual activities. Last night i saw three young boys waiting for one of the rats to approach them. They take from the kids and infect them; nibbling away at the child's innocence through exposing the child to things that he or she is way to young to see or do.
The older gangsters see the child as an opportunity: easy to overpower, fits in small spaces, easy to get addicted to heavy drugs, longs for a sense of belonging. Much like a sleeping victim of the gangster rat's rodent cousin, the child is powerless under the gangster rat's hands. They use the kids for all sorts of evil deeds, abuse them and then discard them when they have had enough. They take from kids and infect them; nibbling away at the child's innocence through exploitation, abuse and maltreatment.
The corrupt security and police are some of the worst rats. They are like the huge rats that don't even move when you try and scare them away, put his back and even jump on you and bite you! All police and security guards are not rats, but the ones that are misuse their power and abuse the kids. They beat the kids, steal their money, smoke drugs with them, intimidate, and engage in all sorts of criminal activities that they were hired to prevent; they create chaos in places they were hired to keep peace. They take from kids and infect them; nibbling away at the child's innocence through using their authority to abuse and intimidate.
So in actual reality, rodents are the least of the kids' worries! These other rats bring much more devastation to the lives on the children, and a regular and daily basis. The worst ones are the ones that come out in day because they are not scared of the light or scared for their deeds to be exposed. But most of these rats creep and crawl in the night, preying on the kids, nibbling away at their lives, bit by bit, night by night. They bring nothing but infection and disease to the table, and all they do is steal! But until we do something to remove these children from their dwelling place, these rats will continue to creep and crawl all over these kids, nibbling away at their innocence and lives!
* Thanks to Gerald Jacobs for helping me conceptualize this blog through a conversation at the soup kitchen the other day!!
Unfortunately, those little ugly rodents are not the only "rats" the kids have to deal with on a daily basis. There are other rats that come to steal, kill and destroy, as they nibble away at the lives of the kids. Who are they? Older gangsters, drug dealers, corrupt cops and security guards, paedophiles, just to name some of the main culprits. Like the rodent rats, most of these rats come out in the night.
They prey on the kids...
The drug dealers on Long Street stand and watch the young addicts running around trying to get their next hit. They smile as the child brings them his money to buy his poison. They take from kids and infect them; nibbling away at the child's innocence through his drug addiction.
The paedophiles creep around looking for a "tasty treat". They are ruthless in their urges. Since i have been here there has been much talk about a rat called Frank, who is picking up young girls, drugging them up and taking pornographic pictures and videos of him engaging with them in sexual activities. Last night i saw three young boys waiting for one of the rats to approach them. They take from the kids and infect them; nibbling away at the child's innocence through exposing the child to things that he or she is way to young to see or do.
The older gangsters see the child as an opportunity: easy to overpower, fits in small spaces, easy to get addicted to heavy drugs, longs for a sense of belonging. Much like a sleeping victim of the gangster rat's rodent cousin, the child is powerless under the gangster rat's hands. They use the kids for all sorts of evil deeds, abuse them and then discard them when they have had enough. They take from kids and infect them; nibbling away at the child's innocence through exploitation, abuse and maltreatment.
The corrupt security and police are some of the worst rats. They are like the huge rats that don't even move when you try and scare them away, put his back and even jump on you and bite you! All police and security guards are not rats, but the ones that are misuse their power and abuse the kids. They beat the kids, steal their money, smoke drugs with them, intimidate, and engage in all sorts of criminal activities that they were hired to prevent; they create chaos in places they were hired to keep peace. They take from kids and infect them; nibbling away at the child's innocence through using their authority to abuse and intimidate.
So in actual reality, rodents are the least of the kids' worries! These other rats bring much more devastation to the lives on the children, and a regular and daily basis. The worst ones are the ones that come out in day because they are not scared of the light or scared for their deeds to be exposed. But most of these rats creep and crawl in the night, preying on the kids, nibbling away at their lives, bit by bit, night by night. They bring nothing but infection and disease to the table, and all they do is steal! But until we do something to remove these children from their dwelling place, these rats will continue to creep and crawl all over these kids, nibbling away at their innocence and lives!
* Thanks to Gerald Jacobs for helping me conceptualize this blog through a conversation at the soup kitchen the other day!!
- On hope and Hopeful Situations -
"There is a place called Hope.
Most of the times, this place is hidden because of our societal issues.
It is a sentiment that etches away in our present world.
It is most times forgotten because every one of us has a personal crisis at some point in time in our lives.
Nevertheless, hope is there – somewhere, clutched inside the ever-fixed gaze of grace. Hope is the answer for the oppressed, the last grain of tangible freedom.
Oppression whether physical or emotional, we must search for hope for it is in this that we find it ready to tackle our every plea.
It is hard to believe that hope is ready to meet us in whatever circumstance we may find ourselves in - but it does.
We can ask what a hope is for someone - what will be good news to him or her?
What causes someone to even think about the possibility of hope? I know this; many people need to hear the story of hope.
I need to hear and remind myself constantly about its surety.
The kind of hope that I write about bears a much deeper message - one of love and acceptance; a life of freedom.
Freedom - doesn’t that sound amazing - being freed from any kind of oppression, things that constrict you, bog you down.
Surely, if one is really searching for it - calling at its name - hope will beckon.
It is here where I find the need to look elsewhere - perhaps beyond ourselves to clutch at hopes hand for sure."
so...
I try not to ask very deep and profound questions as to why the world is failing and people suffer because of bad choices (both theirs and others).
What is 'HOPE' in a world where people have lost all hope and found a 'hopeful situation' in something else?
Does that 'hopeful situation' really count as the 'hope' that we ought to be looking for?
If a person trusted someone once before, but was let down several times - what has trust become then? If a child once believed in sacrificial love, but lost his innocence in pursuit of it - what is love to them?
What is hope - what is a hopeful situation? If we figure this out - do you think it will cause us to 'act' - do something to change the way things are?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
