The Story Seekers

While I was in Austin last week, I had the privilege of seeing my daughter, Kat’s, new play, The Story Seekers. She wrote the play specifically to fit the grounds of the Elizabet Ney Museum in Hyde Park. What a fabulous scene! The museum itself looks like a castle, and it is set on fantastical grounds with foot bridges, creeks, tree swings, and winding paths—PERFECT for the fantasy she wrote.

The story involves a princess, a Story Teller, and lost children. The princess, Bet, is about to be killed by a mean General who has taken over the kingdom and dictated that NO stories will ever be told again. The kingdom must live only in the present and future—no history allowed! The Story Teller saves her by taking her to a magical place where there are only children. The trick, however, is that he takes their life stories and changes them as he pleases; and only HE can tell stories in this land. The longer they stay with him, the more they forget their stories, until they no longer even know who they were, where they came from, or what their names were.

Of course, two of the children (along with Bet) outsmart the Story Teller, take their stories back, send him running, and restore Bet to her kingdom (very short synopsis of the outcome).

I was so struck watching this fantastical play at the powerful metaphor of stories. I’ve said so many times how difficult it is for the teens at Promise House to maintain their history, to know and remember their stories; and how important we are in anchoring them to a GOOD and HOPEFUL story. I know this is why so many stay in touch with us. We ARE their story. We ARE their history. We ARE the beginning of their GOOD story.

So many of our kids have had their stories stolen, changed, convoluted, erased, forgotten, or damaged by years in the system, moving from place to place, being abused, being lied to, being forgotten. Thank god we can reconnect them, or connect them back to themselves. Hallelujah for stories and for the power to influence them in positive ways.

Aside from the fact that I think Kat is a genius and incredibly talented (where DID she get that??), I am so grateful to have been able to see this fun, magical, and powerful play. It re-confirmed for me how important our work at Promise House is and how fortunate we are to be in the presence of such great young people, my daughter included.

What is YOUR story? How do you keep it alive?

Stressor of the Day - Promise House Style

So......I'm sitting at my desk today and see two police cars in front of our building. They were side by side blocking the street, and it looked like they were just chatting with each other.....UNTIL....I see one of the officers get out of her car and walk toward a white van that was parked incorrectly in front of our building. As she started writing the ticket, I jumped up from my desk, ran down the hall to the lobby, asked whose van it was, found out it belonged to a parent who was bringing her son here for help, told her she was getting a ticket, and ran outside to see if I could stop them from writing it. The mother ran out with me, but we were too late.

The police cars had pulled away. I took the ticket from the windshield--$45.00!! I thought the woman was going to faint. Her son came out with her, and she started talking to him in a foreign language. I couldn't understand the language, but I could certainly understand the tone. She was VERY angry. When I asked her what she said, she told me that she told him it was his fault that she got the ticket, because if she hadn't needed to bring him here, none of this would have happened!

NOW......before you judge this woman harshly for what she said to her son, try to remember the amount of stress she is under and what additional stress was added by this $45.00 ticket. She can't pay that ticket! And if she doesn't pay it in 30 days, the amount doubles, and then if she doesn't pay that, they issue a warrant for her arrest. Just what she needs. I did, however, say that maybe she shouldn't go so far as to say the ticket per se was her son's fault. She agreed and iterated what I already knew.....this was one more stressor she did not need.

About this time, the two police cars had stopped up the block at the stop sign. We ran up to the corner and asked if they could reverse the ticket, since she and her son were clients of Promise House and had NO money and didn't know where to park or that parking that way was illegal. Nope. The officer said they can't "undo" tickets once they've been written, but she could call the number on the back of the ticket, give them the circumstances and see if they would dismiss it. I encouraged her to do so and to have the police call me if they needed verification of the story.

This very frustrating story is a perfect metaphor for what our families go through every day. One barrier after another, never enough money, or time, or food, or clothing, or resources to fix what to most of us would have been a minor inconvenience.

Which is exactly why I jumped up and ran outside to try and stop the police. I KNOW what this will do to this mother, her relationship with her son, and the incredible stress it will put on her financially. I just really hope she calls that number on the back of the ticket and that whoever she talks with that day is feeling compassionate, or that they will at least call me. Keep your fingers crossed.

Spring Has Sprung!!

Spring has Sprung in Dallas!! My Redbud Tree is blooming, as is my Yellow Jasmine. My Japanese Maple has tiny buds just about to burst into beautiful red leaves, and my Jonquils are very yellow! No purple Iris yet, but they will emerge soon, I’m sure.

The dead plants in my various porch planters look REALLY dead now that other stuff is blooming, so I guess I know what I’ll be doing this weekend.

I LOVE Spring and Summer! I’m sorry for those of you up North who are still waiting, but I am jumping up and down with glee over the “bustin’-out-all-over I see happening in Big D. The azaleas are just about to add to the riot of color all over town (my all time favorite!), and The Dallas Aboretum is literally bursting with color and a zillion new flowers! Daylight Savings Time is right around the corner, (Hallelujah!)--I don’t even mind losing the hour—time just seems to expand with the longer days.

Time to get the screen porch spiffed up and cleaned for porch-sittin’ and spying on the neighbors (one of my favorite past times), put some color in the porch planters, clean out the flower beds (of course, I’M not going to do that, but time to do it anyway), and generally do some Spring Cleaning.

Speaking of which, what kind of Spring Cleaning do you need to do? Besides all the house stuff, how about clearing the cobwebs out of our brains and letting in some new thoughts, ideas, and information? Time to take the vacuum cleaner to our heads and clean out all that dead stuff that’s been hibernating all winter. Time to breathe in new life and exhale all that old, dusty stuff.

Or, if you’ve been incubating new plans, ideas, or projects all winter, NOW is the time to put them into action! Paint that wall, put in that bird bath, redesign your living room, create! Spring is the time for birth, rebirth, resurrection. The death of Winter gives way to the newness of Spring and all the possibilities that come with it. Time to come out of hibernation and create something grand!

OMG! I just saw a Robin for the first time this Spring! How cool is that?

FROZEN IN DALLAS

Well, I sat at home once again yesterday as Mother Nature blew sleet and snow all over this totally unprepared city. Dallas schools were once again closed, along with eight million others in North Texas. I know all you folks up North think we are a bunch of wusses down here in Texas, and we no doubt are!

Furthermore, I really don’t want to become a winter weather warrior. I live in Texas because I love warm weather, even hotter than hot weather. I HATE cold weather! When it gets below 65, I start getting grumpy. Imagine my state of mind yesterday and today at 18 balmy degrees with wind chill at minus one!!

Last week, schools were closed for an unprecedented four days! I have lived in Dallas over 40 years, and that has never happened. And, of course, you all know the effect of the weather on the pre-Super Bowl activities. Thank goodness it did at least become beautiful in time for the weekend. But, geez, what torture leading up to the big game!

And speaking of the big game, what happened to the thousands of prostitutes that were supposed to be transported in? Promise House heard nary a peep from Dallas police, and to my knowledge, only one guy was arrested for bringing in underage girls. Did the weather keep them at home, or was the estimate totally overblown, as was opined by the Dallas Observer, Dallas’ alternative news source?!

And my poor direct-care staff. We should use the Post Office slogan…..neither sleet nor snow or whatever keeps them from coming to work…….because they HAVE to! Kids don’t disappear just because it’s snowing or sleeting. One of my morning staffers left her house at 3:30 a.m. to get to work at 7:00!! That is ridiculous!

We admit it. We have no clue how to handle this stuff!! Last Thursday I braved the streets to buy groceries for the shelter (I live only one mile from work so get elected to do all kinds of fun things), since the Food Bank was closed and no one could leave the shelter. In my brand new Jeep (which I wasn’t too keen about exposing to the idiots on the road) I did just fine, and you would’ve thought I was the Messiah when I brought in the over $400 worth of bounty, which by the way, lasted a whopping 2 ½ days (those kids can EAT!!) I brought my trusty dog with me who I have nicknamed The Hulk, because he is a giant Golden Retriever, and when I left one of the guys said, “Thank you for bringing your dog and THANK YOU SO MUCH for bringing the FOOD!” It’s the little things.

My only saving grace out of this entire debacle is that this summer the joke will be on y’all. When it’s 103 up there in the North 40, you will be prostrate on the floor without air conditioning, and we’ll be cool as little cucumbers with our totally climate-controlled world. For that we ARE prepared!!

Stay warm. It's 18 degrees in Dallas, TX......unbelievable.

A Different Side of the Super Bowl

As all of you know, the Super Bowl is coming to Dallas. Well here’s a side to it that you never hear about….at least publically. My V.P. of Programs, Alex, was contacted this week by the Child Exploitation Unit of the Dallas Police Department for Promise House to be a shelter for under-age prostitutes that get picked up during the Super Bowl. I’ve been haunted thinking about this discussion and the numbers of prostitutes that will be brought in for the Super Bowl. Is this Las Vegas or something? Geez, I simply cannot get my head around this kind of blatant, slimy, behavior engaged in by so many people. The even more horrific thought is the number of under-age prostitutes, both girls and boys, who will brought in to be used and abused.

Promise House is no stranger to helping prostitutes, both under-age and young adults. Thankfully, not in the numbers that are projected to be dealt with during the Super Bowl, but still, the issues are the same. So many get caught up in it simply trying to survive, trying to get something to eat, have someplace to stay. Teens (both boys and girls) 18 and under on the street will be approached by a “pimp” within 48 hours of “arriving” on the street. Lost, hungry, and confused, they get lured in and the downward spiral begins. They are objectified, bought, sold, used and abused in horrific ways.

Thankfully, the Dallas Police Department is beginning to understand the fact that under-age prostitutes are victims, not criminals. Letot Center, the shelter run by the Juvenile Justice Department here in town, is doing some great work with these kids. Instead of being arrested, these kids are now brought to Letot for special programming and help. This is what we will be doing during the Super Bowl. We have no idea how many will come to Promise House, but I’ll let you know how it goes.

These kids are someone’s children. They had hopes and dreams. They didn’t say when they were little, “Gee, I think I want to be on the street and become a prostitute when I grow up.” They certainly didn’t say, “I’m looking forward to being bought and sold and used and abused when I grow up.” They’ve had their childhoods and youth snatched from them in the most traumatic way. Hopefully, while they are with us, we can give them back a little of that youth and some of their hopes and dreams. At the very least, we can offer them a warm bed, good food, clean clothes, a shower, and a listening ear…..all with no strings attached.

Wish us luck.

On Turning 60....

Thursday, January 6, I turned 60. Every time I say that, I have such cognitive dissonance that I think my brain will explode. Sixty,sixty, sixty. Maybe if I say it enough, it will no longer freak me out. I have outlived my mother and my older brother, Bill. Fortunately, however, not my father or my other sibs. My brother, Ross, is even more freaked out about my birthday than I; because it means he's NEXT!!

How can we be this old? It really is unfathomable to me that sixty years of my life have passed. Really, I'm stunned. I'm just stunned.......particularly when so much of my stream-of-consciousness thinking encompasses long-ago scenes, activities, memories, thoughts, and events that FEEL so current i.e., when I see a young mother struggling to corral her kids and flash on memories of myself doing the same; I certainly don't feel 30 years older than she at that moment.....it seems I was JUST doing what she is currently doing. Likewise, when I’m hanging out with Promise House teens or other young people, I don’t feel old enough to be their mother or even grandmother (heaven forbid!!). I feel as vital, passionate, energetic, and cool as they are; unless, of course, I try to play basketball or volleyball with them. Then, unfortunately, I am brought up short VERY QUICKLY as to my lack of youth! But when I’m with them, I don’t FEEL any age difference……I am right back in my own adolescence or young adulthood with them.

It's uncanny how ALL of my life is carried around with me, with parts of it being triggered by a scent, a sound, a song.....and I am RIGHT back there.....and it is CURRENT....and it is WITH me.....and I don't FEEL 60.....I feel 20 or 15 or 35 or 5....and then I notice myself in a mirror.....and I am once again stunned.....because I AM 60!

My vanity is really getting the best of me on this birthday. I have friends who have celebrated their graying hair, their increased wrinkles, proudly announcing that they earned every one of them and are happy to show them off. I, on the other hand, want no such part of this celebration. I will go to my grave covering at least some of my gray and fighting those pesky little wrinkles one by one!

I admit that I am of the Boomer group who wants to be eternally young, who is totally vain, self-involved, and bent on turning back time, as impossible as that is. I've often said that I'm going for 120, still lookin' and feelin' good. I have lucked out with fabulous genes, good health, pretty good looks, and a fair amount of athleticism and may get close to that; however, none of these will save me in the end. I will still get old (hopefully) and die.

Since I can’t go backwards, and the only other option is very unappealing, I guess 60 doesn’t look all that bad. I AM still above ground, functioning, healthy, happy, energetic, and optimistic. Hopefully, I have lots more years to wrestle the hands of time, if not backwards at least not so quickly forward. And I will continue to be stunned at the passage of time, the aging of my friends, family, and me; and I will continue to carry my life around with me and be all kinds of different ages all the time.....that is, until I spy myself in a mirror.

2011 New Years Resolutions for our Government

Happy New Year, Everyone!

During the holidays, I came up with a small list of resolutions our government should make in 2011 regarding the plight of homeless and runaway teens in our country:

Housing – The US Department of Housing and Urban Development and the Department of Health and Human Services (ACYF/FYSB) should get together to offer funding for housing and support services for our teens. HUD should re-open funds for transitional housing, which is critical for the success of our teens—they are NOT chronically homeless and most do not have a severe enough disability to be eligible for permanent supportive housing—and DHHS, through the Family Youth Services Bureau should offer funds for support services directly linked to the housing funds. These services would include case management, food, clothing, furnishings, medical and dental, family planning, and everything else we all currently provide for these kids. So, come on HUD and DHHS, what do you say???

Top Billing – Homeless and runaway teens and young adults should be DHHS’ and HUD’s top priority. They should resolve that in order to truly end homelessness in this country, these kids will be a priority focus this coming year and for at least the next 10 years.

Congressional Resolve – Both houses of Congress should resolve to end their neglect of these kids, as demonstrated by the paltry funding that continues to be dedicated to them, by resolving to dramatically increase funding to the Runaway/Homeless Youth Act, to transitional housing funds through HUD, and to other programs that serve these teens.

I’m sure there are many more I could up with, but these will do for a start. My BIG question to the Universe, Congress, and anyone else who will listen is, “When will we get that helping young people get off the streets is SOOOOO much cheaper and SOOOO much more effective than waiting until they are 45, addicted to everything on earth, in horrible health, with terrible mental health conditions?? It is SUCH a no-brainer for me,

Unfortunately, I know that I am preaching to the choir here. You all know the story. You see it every day. Somehow, we need to find the time and the voice to make sure that our government knows the story, that they see it EVERY day, and that they DO NOT ignore this most important story.

So, perhaps our New Year’s resolution should be to be the VERY loud, SQEAKY wheel that gets the grease!

Happy LOUD, SQUEAKY New Year!!!