Remember the innocents


What the neighborhood children see as police crack down on the drug corners and the gang bangers.

Two Saturdays in a row I have spent the afternoon playing with the neighborhood children in my front yard, using the toys I bought for the party I had at my old place on Union Street last May. We have Twister, a parachute, jump ropes, and a pair of cloth rackets used to bat a Nerf ball around. The kids make up their own games. I also have a softball, but most of these kids are too young for managing that one. Last week we also used the frisbees, but they kept ending up in the street, so I said no more frisbee.

Last week I brought the toys out because I noticed the next-door-neighbor kids playing "cops and robbers." This is not the game I grew up with. This one is all about the police busting heads. I figured I should give them something more positive to do, so I brought out the toys one by one. We had a great time.

Yesterday a couple of new kids were out with my neighbor's kids. Once again, we had a great time. At one point there was some pushing and hitting, so I raised my hand up and said "RULES!" The kids gathered around me, apparently knowing what to do when this happens. I said, quietly, "These are the rules. If you want to play in my yard with my toys there will be no hitting, no pushing, no shoving. Anyone who breaks the rules will have to go home." They all solemnly agreed to obey the rules, and went back to their play.

One thing I have noticed is that these kids get yelled at all the time, and it is rare that the parents actually play with their children. So I try to give them a loving model of discipline -- one that involves lots of hugs and positive reinforcement and absolutely no yelling or name calling. And I often join them in their games.

I wish there were some way I could teach that process to the parents, but I know it would feel too much like interference and judgment, somehow saying I am better than they are. Goddess knows there were times when I was raising my daughter that I yelled at her and left her too much on her own at play. I'm coming at this from long experience with doing things the wrong way -- and having learned from my daughter's model with my grandchildren how to do it right.

Sometimes I think I should call Supernanny or Nanny 911 and ask them to take on a whole neighborhood.

Anyway, while we were out, several groups of the local gang bangers, no more than two or three at a time, kept walking past, right on the sidewalk close to us. I just ignored them. Officers on foot patrol had been out, passing by as well, so I felt relatively safe. I also figured as long as I was with the kids, the bangers weren't going to mess with me. For one thing, at least one of the kids has a cousin or two among the bangers.

Things were winding down energy-wise with the kids. I had brought out paper and colored markers and the kids were happily drawing on my porch. I had been raking leaves and was putting the trash barrel back along side the house when I heard one of the kids say, "Uh oh. Looks like there's going to be a fight."

I looked up. Down at the corner at Post and Chili there was a huge gathering. I figured about 20 or so. I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want either the kids or the bangers to see me call 911. But even if I went out of sight, either inside the house or behind it, they'd be suspicious. And I was deeply concerned about what might be about to happen. I've learned that I need to call BEFORE anybody does anything he can get arrested for.

So I went behind the house and dialed. While I was talking there were more of them coming down the street, and I mentioned that. They might have seen me making the call. I don't know.

No sooner had I finished the call and come back to the porch than most of the men dispersed, so I decided to make a follow-up call and went inside the house. I knew that the dispatchers would probably be sending multiple cars to the scene and I didn't want resources wasted. Then I sat down on the porch with the kids, prepared to order them inside my house if I saw anything untoward about to happen.

First one then another squad car showed up. The kids were watching all of this. One of them said, "Please don't hurt [name]. Please don't hurt him!" I asked the boy if he knew something there, and he said yes, [name] was his cousin. I told the boy his cousin wouldn't get hurt if he hadn't done anything wrong.

I noticed that the boys on the corner with the police at that point were exactly that -- boys. The older bangers had all disappeared.

The scene was very calm -- the officers spoke so quietly that we couldn't hear anything being said. Eventually they let everyone go.

The kids wondered among themselves who might have brought the police in. They finally decided the police knew about the gathering because they'd been out walking around the neighborhood earlier.

This just breaks my heart. I know their version of "cops and robbers" is based on personal experience or at least the personal experience of other kids they know. They are too young to grasp the idea that their relatives, neighbors and family friends who end up getting carted off to jail probably brought it on themselves by breaking the law. All they see is that the police "mistreat" their loved ones and take them away.

I am sure the latest crackdown on the drug corners and the gangs is fueling a lot of anger. I'm not saying that's justification for backing off. Given all the violence that happens in the city -- most of which is under the average citizen's radar because very little of it actually gets reported in the media -- something needs to be done.

But we have to remember these kids. They are innocent. They have no control over what the adults in their lives do. They do not have the maturity to process their observations. We have to address the pain and fear they feel as these events happen.

Posted: Sun - November 26, 2006 at 01:25 PM          

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