I've been watching that show: Beyond Scared Straight. It reminds me of going to a tour of the police station when I was a kid, with the neighbors when they were kids. The kids who lived next door and the kids who lived next door to them. It wasn't a Beyond scared straight program. Just a tour. But I look back on it because those kids are in jail now. Assault. Angry kids turn into angry adults. Then the drugs... Yeah, they get you nowhere fast.
Growing up there wasn't a picnic. That neighborhood is as worse as it ever was. Ottawa, though, is a far cry from places like Brooklyn. Canadian ghettos, while still ghettos, are better than American ghettos. Being on the streets of Ottawa is not the same as being on the streets of New York.
If I had spent my teenage years in that neighborhood, I'd be angry, too. Dealing with those kinds of problems would have made me angry, too. I still have anger inside for a lot of reasons. I just can't let it out. What happened to them was that they were a ticking time-bomb waiting to explode. Circumstances change people. Circumstances either give you a chance or they leave you with no chance at all.
I think about them sometimes. I used to be friends with their sisters when we were kids. I knew who they were before all this. I knew some of what they went through. Some of what lead to them going to jail. Sometimes I wish I could have frozen time to when we'd play marbles or cars, climb trees, listen to music together. I wish they didn't have to go through all the crap they went through. They knew what was happening to me, too. I think everyone knew and just did nothing about it. An open secret.
Could anything have helped? Could anything been done to prevent them from going down that path? One of them has brothers who are also in jail. I remember camping out in their backyard. I remember who introduced me to Vanilla Ice. Weird how the boy next door is in jail, and me, being the girl next door (to him) went to college to see what being a cop was all about. Not that I`ll ever get to be a cop, of course not. Not a ghetto girl like me. That would be an unwise thing for them to do, wouldn't it? Just because I don't live in the ghetto anymore, doesn't mean I didn't come from there. Wouldn't it be something if I found out they were holding it against me? After all, they refused to tell me why I wasn't allowed to volunteer for them when in that same year I was allowed to volunteer for the RCMP. All I wanted to know was why. There are barriers between us and them. They know who we are. We know who they are.
They probably want to know why I have a problem with 'authority'.
Probably because when they had proof of what was happening, when it started happening, they did nothing.
Probably because when my mother was getting beat in the street, they said she'd asked for it
Probably because they've pushed me past my limits so many times.
Sometimes angry is not quite the word. Rage isn't even quite the word. Sometimes there is no word.
Growing up there wasn't a picnic. That neighborhood is as worse as it ever was. Ottawa, though, is a far cry from places like Brooklyn. Canadian ghettos, while still ghettos, are better than American ghettos. Being on the streets of Ottawa is not the same as being on the streets of New York.
If I had spent my teenage years in that neighborhood, I'd be angry, too. Dealing with those kinds of problems would have made me angry, too. I still have anger inside for a lot of reasons. I just can't let it out. What happened to them was that they were a ticking time-bomb waiting to explode. Circumstances change people. Circumstances either give you a chance or they leave you with no chance at all.
I think about them sometimes. I used to be friends with their sisters when we were kids. I knew who they were before all this. I knew some of what they went through. Some of what lead to them going to jail. Sometimes I wish I could have frozen time to when we'd play marbles or cars, climb trees, listen to music together. I wish they didn't have to go through all the crap they went through. They knew what was happening to me, too. I think everyone knew and just did nothing about it. An open secret.
Could anything have helped? Could anything been done to prevent them from going down that path? One of them has brothers who are also in jail. I remember camping out in their backyard. I remember who introduced me to Vanilla Ice. Weird how the boy next door is in jail, and me, being the girl next door (to him) went to college to see what being a cop was all about. Not that I`ll ever get to be a cop, of course not. Not a ghetto girl like me. That would be an unwise thing for them to do, wouldn't it? Just because I don't live in the ghetto anymore, doesn't mean I didn't come from there. Wouldn't it be something if I found out they were holding it against me? After all, they refused to tell me why I wasn't allowed to volunteer for them when in that same year I was allowed to volunteer for the RCMP. All I wanted to know was why. There are barriers between us and them. They know who we are. We know who they are.
They probably want to know why I have a problem with 'authority'.
Probably because when they had proof of what was happening, when it started happening, they did nothing.
Probably because when my mother was getting beat in the street, they said she'd asked for it
Probably because they've pushed me past my limits so many times.
Sometimes angry is not quite the word. Rage isn't even quite the word. Sometimes there is no word.
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