I don’t want to work another day
Hear people talk behind my back and say
I don’t work as hard as I ought to
I left early - got caught - lied and said I was in the library
after the children left
My work was done
Why should I stay
Bereft by 3 pm each day
driven to exasperation
complaints follow me
I came late I leave early
They tell me talk to Thomas who is 5, a year older than the others in his class. He picked up a chair and threw it somewhere. Luckily it hit no one. I could talk to him till I’m blue in the face.
Thomas needs to be in a special setting I'm betting they want some magic answer
They tell me call his mother get her in here
The mother comes in
cigarette dangling from her lips she says what can I do I have to go to work I have to make money. The espresso with milk she sips matching her own brown color, a drop drips down her chin
Downcast eyes
She patiently repeats I have to go to work, I have a family of 4 to support
she's got to hold down the fort, it's not for sport -
tomorrow she's got to go to court, she says- and that's another day lost
I have to pay my bills, what time can I go to my job
working working I talk about Thomas
She shakes her head - she doesn't know what to do
I pray I cry for me and others
I want to live free - I watch her sip her coffee, a cold winter day
My energy dissipates I anticipate our fate, acclimate to
another day, another school, a 15 year old girl is hearing voices, she’s afraid of someone in her head, a neighborhood Santera
A plethora of voices in her head make her scream
I hold her head to allay her pain told her to imagine a beam of white light, God supreme protecting her
no one else knew what to do
So they brought her to me, grateful they said Friday was their day for me
She held my hand and prayed
using strange erratic and loud routines
I told her she’d be ok, I'd keep the demons at bay
told her the saints she prayed to would help her
teachers and students were scared they were glad I was there
They called EMS tell me
I should take the girl no one knew was psychotic to the hospital
They called her parents
I got in the ambulance with her
They were afraid she’d go ballistic again is why they asked me to go with her.
At the hospital they say she was only calm with me cause I entered her world so perfectly
Helped her hold on for hope, played her band-aid, her nursemaid
There are times when there’s no place to go but inside someone's head
join them inside to guide them, I do it so easily it’s because I too am crazy
I long for the american dream - as we glide downstream in my capable hands
my sensibilities attacked by another breaker wave
It’s hard out here for a social worker
Showing posts with label Social Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Social Work. Show all posts
Monday, January 25, 2010
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
A Little Thirst is all ... To Quench or A Completely Distasteful Yet Very Likely Story Explaining How Disease Travels...
The day had been a long one beginning with church in the morning and including relatives rarely seen. His sister Sara was getting married this Saturday coming and today was Christmas. His father’s sister, Audrey and her husband Delmar, had arrived yesterday from Albany with his niece, Farah, and nephew, Freeman, in hand.
The dinner feast had been served early and everyone was relaxing full with good foods, baked honeyed ham and stuffed Cornish hens. Sara and her fiancé, Delroy, stretched out on the sectional leather recliners of the couch watching some early night TV while the other adults shared laughs and drinks. Carlton sat in a corner of the kitchen watching the scene unfold like the dusk outside. Marisa sidled up to his mom and they whispered and giggled. His mom jiggled her boobs in her low cut dress. Carlton watched his Dad, Cornelius, standing near the RCA Victrola humming to the music he played, spinning the stem of his glass of red wine. Freeman, who was sixteen, stood next to Cornelius pressing closer, and talking into his ear. Cornelius put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders and the two laughed.
Marisa passed her wine to Freeman, saying, “Want some baby? Yo’ mama don’t let you experiment too often and since I’m passin’ you the glass, you may as well cut loose with family first.”
Freeman accepted the wine shyly pressing his lips to the wine cup like an unknown lover. Carlton's mom passed by him and ran her fingertips along his spine coquettishly. She passed his chair and reached above his head into the cabinet for a clean glass passing it to Audrey. A chill passed through Carlton and he shivered involuntarily after her hand had left his skin.
“How bout you baby,” his mamma Carleen cooed to him, her fingertips eliciting a new shiver, you want a lil’ too, his mom said brazenly offering Carlton her half full glass.
“No, mom, I’m cool, ” Carlton said, thinking that twelve years old was still too young for drinking. He wondered how high his mom was.
Delmar entered the room, pulling his tie off with one hand and scratching his ear. As he passed by Audrey he playfully spanked her butt and as he passed by Carlene his arm passed fleetingly across her upper back to her waist. Carlton wondered if she shivered too the way he did when she touched him. Was that the way all touch was?
Carlton knew that his sister had told Audrey and Delmar that they could use her bedroom tonight and she’d also made it clear, that she’d be bunking in his along with Freeman. The little girl, Farah, would sleep on the couch and his parents would stay in their own room.
Carlton got tired of the show and went upstairs to be alone for a while. He turned up some Led Zep on his cd player using his headphones. Relaxed and nicely worn out, he let his mind wander and pulled one of his mags from under the bed. When he awoke it was dark in the room and he heard the sound of steady breathing. His sister was on the lower bunk bed with her leg hanging loosely over the edge. His cousin, Freeman, was on the upper bunk and Carlton listened as Freeman turned in his sleep, and a soft snore escaped his lips.
Carlton felt his penis engorged and got up to go take a piss. He put on a pair of pajama bottoms and then decided to go downstairs to get a glass of water. He passed by his niece who appeared calmly sleeping. The sectional recliners were still out and she lay there by herself. There was a soft night light from the kitchen. Carlton went to the sink and put his hand to feel the water. He stood a few seconds waiting for the water to run more coolly. When he felt satisfied, he drew a glass from the sideboard and filled it with cold water.
He sat on the couch next to his five year old niece swallowing huge gulps of water. Carlton went and refilled the glass and returned again. He again gulped. The ham had been very salty. He put the glass on the table and stretched out thinking the moonlight coming through the blinds was the perfect amount of light. He looked over at his curly headed niece who had turned towards him with eyes wide open. He looked into her eyes and felt that familiar thrill of a shiver pass over his body. The blanket had fallen from her and it twisted about her feet. The room was warm. He reached over intending to cover her and put his arm at her waist. Farah’s nightgown had slid up to her waist and she had no underwear on. He tugged at the hem, intending to pull down the skirt of her gown.
Instead Carlton impulsively reached around to her front caressing her mons pubis. Neither broke eye contact. With no intention of proceeding further, suddenly his fingers were between her labia. It was very moist and inviting. Carlton moved his index and middle finger very lightly, the moistness absorbing him, her eyes compelling him. He felt his finger blend into the moistness of the labia, his finger inhaled by a soft pliant wet crevice. The pleasure he felt reflected in the moonlight cast across her face and her gaze remained steady, her lips slightly parted like his mother’s when she ran her hands across his back. He pushed his third and longer finger down a bit more while his index played with her man in the boat. Farah sighed contentedly, her eyes fixed on his.
Carlton turned away feeling the hot rise of a blush full of shame, he hurriedly sat up. Earlier he’d refused a drink and now he’d touched his five-year old cousin. He looked at her once more in the eyes and she stared back supplicantly with doe eyes. He turned away and ran back up the steps to his own room and lay on the guest bed where he’d been earlier, before he had woken up to hear his sister and cousin’s snores and needed to piss and drink water. Isn’t that all that happened after all?
The point is - sexual abuse runs in families. Mom was abused by uncle Jim and then her son is abused by her dad is the way of it. Speaking out is the only way to end the abuse. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.
The dinner feast had been served early and everyone was relaxing full with good foods, baked honeyed ham and stuffed Cornish hens. Sara and her fiancé, Delroy, stretched out on the sectional leather recliners of the couch watching some early night TV while the other adults shared laughs and drinks. Carlton sat in a corner of the kitchen watching the scene unfold like the dusk outside. Marisa sidled up to his mom and they whispered and giggled. His mom jiggled her boobs in her low cut dress. Carlton watched his Dad, Cornelius, standing near the RCA Victrola humming to the music he played, spinning the stem of his glass of red wine. Freeman, who was sixteen, stood next to Cornelius pressing closer, and talking into his ear. Cornelius put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders and the two laughed.
Marisa passed her wine to Freeman, saying, “Want some baby? Yo’ mama don’t let you experiment too often and since I’m passin’ you the glass, you may as well cut loose with family first.”
Freeman accepted the wine shyly pressing his lips to the wine cup like an unknown lover. Carlton's mom passed by him and ran her fingertips along his spine coquettishly. She passed his chair and reached above his head into the cabinet for a clean glass passing it to Audrey. A chill passed through Carlton and he shivered involuntarily after her hand had left his skin.
“How bout you baby,” his mamma Carleen cooed to him, her fingertips eliciting a new shiver, you want a lil’ too, his mom said brazenly offering Carlton her half full glass.
“No, mom, I’m cool, ” Carlton said, thinking that twelve years old was still too young for drinking. He wondered how high his mom was.
Delmar entered the room, pulling his tie off with one hand and scratching his ear. As he passed by Audrey he playfully spanked her butt and as he passed by Carlene his arm passed fleetingly across her upper back to her waist. Carlton wondered if she shivered too the way he did when she touched him. Was that the way all touch was?
Carlton knew that his sister had told Audrey and Delmar that they could use her bedroom tonight and she’d also made it clear, that she’d be bunking in his along with Freeman. The little girl, Farah, would sleep on the couch and his parents would stay in their own room.
Carlton got tired of the show and went upstairs to be alone for a while. He turned up some Led Zep on his cd player using his headphones. Relaxed and nicely worn out, he let his mind wander and pulled one of his mags from under the bed. When he awoke it was dark in the room and he heard the sound of steady breathing. His sister was on the lower bunk bed with her leg hanging loosely over the edge. His cousin, Freeman, was on the upper bunk and Carlton listened as Freeman turned in his sleep, and a soft snore escaped his lips.
Carlton felt his penis engorged and got up to go take a piss. He put on a pair of pajama bottoms and then decided to go downstairs to get a glass of water. He passed by his niece who appeared calmly sleeping. The sectional recliners were still out and she lay there by herself. There was a soft night light from the kitchen. Carlton went to the sink and put his hand to feel the water. He stood a few seconds waiting for the water to run more coolly. When he felt satisfied, he drew a glass from the sideboard and filled it with cold water.
He sat on the couch next to his five year old niece swallowing huge gulps of water. Carlton went and refilled the glass and returned again. He again gulped. The ham had been very salty. He put the glass on the table and stretched out thinking the moonlight coming through the blinds was the perfect amount of light. He looked over at his curly headed niece who had turned towards him with eyes wide open. He looked into her eyes and felt that familiar thrill of a shiver pass over his body. The blanket had fallen from her and it twisted about her feet. The room was warm. He reached over intending to cover her and put his arm at her waist. Farah’s nightgown had slid up to her waist and she had no underwear on. He tugged at the hem, intending to pull down the skirt of her gown.
Instead Carlton impulsively reached around to her front caressing her mons pubis. Neither broke eye contact. With no intention of proceeding further, suddenly his fingers were between her labia. It was very moist and inviting. Carlton moved his index and middle finger very lightly, the moistness absorbing him, her eyes compelling him. He felt his finger blend into the moistness of the labia, his finger inhaled by a soft pliant wet crevice. The pleasure he felt reflected in the moonlight cast across her face and her gaze remained steady, her lips slightly parted like his mother’s when she ran her hands across his back. He pushed his third and longer finger down a bit more while his index played with her man in the boat. Farah sighed contentedly, her eyes fixed on his.
Carlton turned away feeling the hot rise of a blush full of shame, he hurriedly sat up. Earlier he’d refused a drink and now he’d touched his five-year old cousin. He looked at her once more in the eyes and she stared back supplicantly with doe eyes. He turned away and ran back up the steps to his own room and lay on the guest bed where he’d been earlier, before he had woken up to hear his sister and cousin’s snores and needed to piss and drink water. Isn’t that all that happened after all?
The point is - sexual abuse runs in families. Mom was abused by uncle Jim and then her son is abused by her dad is the way of it. Speaking out is the only way to end the abuse. Names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Harold Hunter
I met Harold when he attended Seward Park HS. He and I hit it off (I was one of the counselors there) but he was assigned to someone else. I asked the other counselor to let me see Harold instead of him seeing Harold since they didn't have a relationship anyway. The counselor said "If you want to but he's never here." I managed to see quite a lot of Harold and learn a lot about him. Harold had a very hard life and I related to that, having had a very hard life myself. He was such a fantastic kid and so friendly. He had the biggest personality. I later met his brother when his brother was at a GED program and his brother was a very talented artist. He drew great comics.
I remember once running into Harold when I was with my son, and being proud to introduce him, because Harold was the type of guy anyone would have been proud to know. After that, I ran into Harold infrequently and when ever I did, he always spent time chatting and telling me what was new in his life.
It's no wonder I found myself crying after I got to work, I just couldn't stop the tears and contain myself. And it was probably meant for me to meet that young man I met this morning on the train who told me Harold was dead. I just began talking to the guy because he had a skateboard and it reminded of Harold back in the day. Actually Harold had been on my mind lately because I always ran into him around NY. I had been thinking seeing him is way overdue. I'm so sorry - it's a loss to our world and a reminder that we are all only visitors here of our own demise.
I remember once running into Harold when I was with my son, and being proud to introduce him, because Harold was the type of guy anyone would have been proud to know. After that, I ran into Harold infrequently and when ever I did, he always spent time chatting and telling me what was new in his life.
It's no wonder I found myself crying after I got to work, I just couldn't stop the tears and contain myself. And it was probably meant for me to meet that young man I met this morning on the train who told me Harold was dead. I just began talking to the guy because he had a skateboard and it reminded of Harold back in the day. Actually Harold had been on my mind lately because I always ran into him around NY. I had been thinking seeing him is way overdue. I'm so sorry - it's a loss to our world and a reminder that we are all only visitors here of our own demise.
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