Chapter 9

I've been watching the HBO series "The Wire" lately.  Since the first episode there has been a personal connection for me to these characters.  In case you've never seen the show, it's about drugs and crime on the streets of Baltimore. (It's much more than that, tho, you should check it out!)  In Season 1 there is a character named Bubbles, or Bubs.  He is a heroin addict, he lives on the streets, but most of all he is a sweetheart.  His genuinely good nature shines through.  He is funny, clever, sarcastic and smart.  He is my mom so much that I tear up almost every scene he is in.  He makes me miss my Mom one minute and in the next minute feel so sad that he is caught up in this life. . Or is it sad because my Mom was caught up in that life? They are one in the same.  My feelings for Bubs are my feelings for my Mom.  Every time I see Bubs on the screen I want to hug him, I fear for his safety.  I worry where he will sleep.  What will he eat? Every time they show him shooting up I say "No, Bubs! You're better, you're more than that!" There is so much more to my connection to Bubs and how it mirrors the life my Mom led.  But, I need to process some other things first.

Season 4 concentrates on the street kids and the public schools.  Every night, I sit on my soft leather recliner, from the comfort of my beautiful home here in Arizona and I get transported, back to a time in my life that feels like never could have actually happened to me.  I almost feel like I should be in these episodes, sitting in the corner of the classroom  The only white girl, dirty, self conscious and scared out of her mind.  I share so many of the character's traits and actions. Cutting school at the first sign of insecurity.  Not caring about what the hell the teacher is trying to say because there is just too much more REAL shit to be thinking about.  Like, will I eat tonight? Will there be electricity when I get home? Why does this teacher think I will ever amount to anything? When will I ever need to know algebra? Doesn't he know I'm invisible?

There is one character on the show, Dookie, who really just gets me straight in the heart and brings back so many memories.  More than memories, actual pain and sadness comes over me.  He is an awkward boy, poor and dirty.  Living in poverty, both of his parents are drug addicts.  He's smart, yet insecure.  He's sweet, but misunderstood. He's picked on by his classmates for having dirty clothes and for smelling, and he just timidly takes the abuse.  He never fights back. Probably because he knows that what they are saying is true.  He is dirty.  He does smell.  He is awkward.

He is me.

In one episode a student tells his teacher that he doesn't have any school supplies or uniform shirt because his parents sell them for money for drugs.  I almost had to excuse myself from my own living room to process the feelings this scene brought up.  I wanted to pause the show and magically be transported into that classroom and hug Dookie.  I wanted to tell him it can be ok.  Not it WILL be ok, because honestly, that's just not always the case.  A lot of things have to fall into place before he will ever be ok.  Before I ever would be ok.  But I am living proof that it is possible.

I often wonder about how little things that happen to you as a child can have such an impact on you as an adult.  In elementary school my school would have a "Candy Sale" every year.  It wasn't like it is today, where you can pay by credit card.  I didn't have my parents on my side, rooting for me to sell the most candy so I could win the bike on page 4.  My mom wasn't bringing the catalog to work and asking her friends to order, so her daughter could succeed.  Instead, my parents would shove me out of the house, with my little collection box, to sell candy.  More importantly, to bring back cash for them to buy drugs.  I remember going to every apartment in the building with that catalog.  Every house on the street.  And the next street.  And across the avenue.  As far as I could go to fill up my box.  I was so completely awkward and shy, I wonder if people bought from me out of pity.  No, I shouldn't wonder, I know this is why.  Especially when year after year I would never return to their house with the chocolate they paid for.  Yet, every year, they kept buying from me.  I would come home after dark with my little box jingling with cash and coins and hope that I could sneak it past my parents.  I was just as naive as my neighbors, they would never get their chocolate and I would never get that bike.  I wouldn't even turn an envelope in.  Why did I continue to knock on neighbors doors? I try to figure this out, but I just can't get into my little 10 year old head.  Did I just want to please my parents? Was I so desperate for any kind of attention that I humiliated myself for them?  Did I really believe I had a chance at that bike? It could be any or all of these things, I don't know.  That brings me back to my original point - how does this seemingly small incident impact who I am today? I think about this one childhood memory often.  Why? Is it the humiliation I felt? Is it the hurt and complete disregard from my parents? Is it because I am a parent now, and I am trying to wrap my brain around the whole scenario? Maybe I will never know.  I do know that it has given me great perspective as a mother.  I cannot even fathom doing something like this to my boys.  That's like comparing apples to oranges.  My life compared to my boys' lives just isn't a fair comparison.  I can only hope to use my past experiences to teach my kids some valuable lessons.  Lessons they may never have the opportunity to learn without my experiences,  How my old life will support my new life remains to be seen.