Saturday, July 9, 2011

Tales from the Almost Ghetto

Once upon a time a sheltered suburban white woman and her family moved into the mix of drug dealers, prostitution, and poverty...

{Background story}

Brandon and I love babies, even ones that aren't born yet. In fact, we met at a pro-life prayer meeting in front of an abortion clinic. When we were pregnant with Malakai we started praying and asking God to give us a maternity home one day where we could provide a safe place to live for pregnant women who needed it--a place to train them to be mothers, help them get on their own feet, and share the love of Jesus with them. While we were praying for a maternity home in the future, we were also praying for a new home for our own family. We had to move out of our one bedroom apartment before Kai was born. We had plans to move in with some friends and share a house, but that fell through a month before my due date. I panicked, but Brandon calmly said, “That just means God has something better planned!” Sure enough, the VERY NEXT DAY the director of the local crisis pregnancy center called me. I had volunteered to work in the center occasionally, but she was calling about something different. She explained to me that the center has 5 apartments donated to them by a local complex. In 4 of the apartments they house women in crisis pregnancy situations. In the 5th apartment they house mentors to oversee the program. The director asked if, by chance, we were interested in moving in the next month to oversee the housing program. We, of course, said YES and we have been working in their housing program for the last 2 years.
 
The funny thing about this apartment complex is that it is one of the more impoverished areas of town. The apartment complex also donates apartments to nonprofits that work with homeless men, people recovering from drug abuse, and people with mental illnesses. It is a very eclectic mix. We have grown to love so many of the people here. We have funny stories, heartbreaking moments, and constant challenges. As we are about to move, I want to write down some of the stories so I don't forget. This first one happened just the night before last.

{Tale I }

One down, one to go. We close Kai's door after putting him to bed and turn off the living room lights to begin rocking Caleb to sleep. As Caleb and I both start to nod off BAM BUBUBAM BAM!

"Was that fireworks or a gun?" was my first thought. The first time we heard "fireworks" here it was actually someone shooting next to our building. I peeked out the window. Ok, fireworks. Good.
There's a drug dealer who moved into the building across the street from us two months ago. He has 3 girls over that are setting off fireworks. I hear Kai jump up excitedly from his crib shouting, "Fiiiiireworks! See!" Caleb is looking at me wide-eyed. Oy vey. Brandon picks Kai up and takes him out to the front porch to watch the fireworks. The neighbor's children are outside both crying because the fireworks startled them so. The girls are just standing around with Mr. Drug Dealer chatting and it doesn't look like there are anymore fireworks. We put Kai back to bed and begin rocking Caleb again. 5 minutes later-- BAM BUBUBAM BAM! Back outside we go with the two little boys. Neighbor boys are crying again. Once again the girls are just hanging out and appear to be done with the fireworks. Drug dealer leaves. We go back inside. Yep, you guessed it. BAM BUBUBAM BAM! This continues for an hour. By 10 o'clock we've had enough so I walk across the street to the three girls. They're all probably around 20 years old. One is wearing jeans with sweat pants also pulled over her legs, but not her butt. I'm not sure how they stayed up. One is slightly older looking just in jeans and a white T. The third is pretty, but quite cross-eyed. I politely explain, 

"Hi there! I hate to be the party crasher, but we have been trying to put our babies to sleep and the noise is keeping them up. Would you mind holding off on the fireworks tonight? " 

"Ok, we'll stop. No problem." the cross-eyed one answers me. 

"Great, thank you. I appreciate it."

I walk up the stairs and back inside. As soon as I close the door, BAM BUBUBAM BAM! "Fireworks! See it!" cries Kai from his crib again. I probably had smoke rising from hair. I stomped back outside as the white T girl was lighting another firework. As I approached she glanced at me and said, "We're almost done". 

"You just told me you would stop and as soon as I turned around you did it again. I'm not asking for myself. My children need their sleep and the neighbor kids are up crying because the noise is scaring them too. It's too late at night for this now and if I hear them again I'm calling the police."

I walked back inside. BAM BUBUBAM BAM! 

Call the police. I have to stand outside again with Kai because he wants to see the fireworks again. The neighbor girl walks up with her crying baby and asks me what happened. White T girl calls to me from across the street,

"You *(&*^*, if you have something to say to me why don't you come say it to my face!"

Great. How mature.

Trying to speak calmly, "I already came and talked to you twice. I don't have anything else to say."

"*(^&^*****)(*&&&"
"When the police come, tell them we're taking a walk. Tell them I'm the one in the white shirt."

Girls take off walking yelling at me as they go. Police come by later I guess, but no one is there. Caleb finally asleep by 12:30. Brandon and I are finally lying in bed in peace and quiet, but can't sleep.

"I have a long way to go before I'm like Jesus," Brandon whispers to me across the bed.
"Yeah, me too."
"I kept fantasizing about punching those girls in the face or hoping that drug dealer dude would come by and start something so I would have an excuse to fight him"
"Yeah, I really wanted to punch that girl in the face too. I'm ok now though. I asked God to forgive me and her and asked him to encounter her....but yeah, I really wanted to punch her in the face. We have a long way to go."

Make us like you, Jesus. Right here in the middle of this place that so desperately needs you. 


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