malaeducaciòn
me away ... I had no idea what it meant to live in a home for adolescents. I do not have even now, in reality, or at least not entirely. I complain so much that I always adolescence I've had, I now pass the afternoon in a place where I never stop feeling guilty for a life too lucky.
I do not know if I can get to the bottom of this internship. Just do not feel like to impose rules and limits to those girls, I'm sure, they need it for their own good.
Just can not do to say, E. to stop playing volleyball at home, because I myself spend my time to imagine the myriad ways to tear down those walls to ball too tight.
just can not stand over a Y-term to bring to all the thousands of his health care that requires daily, even though I know you could die if you do not care, because I just can not imagine how you must be tired after 16 years (which are all for her life) passed to cure a body too frail incessantly.
I can not find the will to speak with V., who still speaks to me not because I wonder how I would feel like to live my teenage years in a place where I may not be alone and through which business continuity, psychologists, social workers and trainees, all people who absolutely do not care about you, which will remain there for a bit 'and then he'll go no longer be heard, people for whom you are little more than a job, people who call this place "home" without knowing what it means to live 24 hours a day, people with the authority that controls but without a parent to feel affection or the bond of blood.
I can not do to say, D. to remove her finger from his mouth, and even if that continues to make tea sandwiches served with french fries can not do without getting fat again, because I remember how it used to have 16 years and feel like shit and feel inside a vacuum that was filled only by emptying the refrigerator.
Perhaps I work too fancy but simply to educate the girls, I can not. Today
keep coming to mind some of their sentences ...
In a home for adolescents with a past like theirs you'd expect to find a group of psychopaths. I had a life yet they are lucky the top of psychopathology. Looking at them makes me think that my mother was right when he says that I create problems because in reality I do not. They had a life of shit but in many ways from the psychological point of view seem to be much better than me. They are undisciplined, lively, sometimes surly, rude or aggressive, but other than that usually are quiet and joke with each other. Only occasionally, between the laughs, they say something that hits you and which you find yourself hopelessly not know how to respond. As to the question, "Do you need anything?" D. replied: "Yes, a new life." Or when he jokes about death with D. Y., who casually says, "you'll understand, I want to die every day."
sometimes not Nor are the phrases, sometimes just the silence. Such as E. (13 years) after my question: "What do you want to be?"
He shrugged and remained silent, not in the way of kids who do not like the school but in the way of those who can not imagine a future or prefer not to think about. What will it do E. grow up? I do not know. For this, I say, let it at least until it can play ball and be patient if something breaks.
It hurts because you have the constant feeling that it is true, that their destiny is already written and tragically limited their chances. It makes me angry, I still will not be so. With the optimism typical of those who have always gone well, my persistence in wanting to believe that something good expectations, they will not have a life of shit just because they have so far had a life of shit.
Reby says that the world does not always go all the way I want and I have to learn it, and I know he's right. So accept the reality that even when it means to grow ugly. I know that denying the evidence did not help. I know that teach them to behave as they should, possibility to give them a lot more than I do my stubbornly stick our heads in the sand. I know that this really means to believe in them and not to lose her. I know. Just do not think I'm good enough to do it, and for not giving up hope, no rules I remember S., the girl-ghost of the house, that never happened because they ran away. They told us they went to live with his girlfriend and her family, who were reported missing but in fact nobody does anything, that passes only occasionally to get her things and then goes away again. I think of her because she seems to have found a way out and perhaps because of this will have a better chance. Or maybe not, maybe will go wrong anyway, but at least I think I tried. To escape, find his way to seek a better life.
I hope that does not bring back back again.
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