Wednesday, March 17, 2004
have you looked outside?
expense account dinner with the monkey's visiting cousin last night proved a lovely diversion. and no debilitating anxiety for about twenty hours in a row. i'm on a roll.
back to school, where on friday, while i wasn't there, a girl was attacked in the gym of the school upstairs that shares our building. i tried to talk to some of the kids about it yesterday, once i'd heard what happened, although they didn't seem to have much to say. except one of my newly-favorite little girls, who eventually confessed that some guy was "feeling on her" and had told her that if she treated him with respect, he'd give her a lot of money. this happened to her when she was eight, too, and that time she was able to avoid having sex with the man and told her family and he was banished from her housing project. this time, her mother called the man, who said he was so drunk he didn't remember what happened, and now continues to entertain him in her home. she had so many tears by the time she told me that the table was wet. "i should just go live in virginia," she choked.
i let her stay in my office during lunch and gave her half my sandwich. she played with my hair and admired my socks. she's such a good girl, and i didn't know what else to do for her. it seems like a sad bargain: confess this terrible fear and humiliation, and you get half a peanut butter sandwich. that sort of sums up what i can do for them, most days.
back to school, where on friday, while i wasn't there, a girl was attacked in the gym of the school upstairs that shares our building. i tried to talk to some of the kids about it yesterday, once i'd heard what happened, although they didn't seem to have much to say. except one of my newly-favorite little girls, who eventually confessed that some guy was "feeling on her" and had told her that if she treated him with respect, he'd give her a lot of money. this happened to her when she was eight, too, and that time she was able to avoid having sex with the man and told her family and he was banished from her housing project. this time, her mother called the man, who said he was so drunk he didn't remember what happened, and now continues to entertain him in her home. she had so many tears by the time she told me that the table was wet. "i should just go live in virginia," she choked.
i let her stay in my office during lunch and gave her half my sandwich. she played with my hair and admired my socks. she's such a good girl, and i didn't know what else to do for her. it seems like a sad bargain: confess this terrible fear and humiliation, and you get half a peanut butter sandwich. that sort of sums up what i can do for them, most days.
