This young man is not a violent young man. His mom really wasn't there for him in a way he needed her to be. Often times, when they were very young, she would leave him and his brother home for days all alone. They'd only have cereal and milk to eat and were responsible for getting themselves up for school each morning. They were in elementary school at the time.
When the cereal and milk ran out, they had learned to steal in order to get more food. From there, they began stealing bigger things from clothes to cars. Then, he began to rob people and to sell drugs in a major way. He was only 17 when I met him in juvenile hall. He was not in a gang, but had learned to hussle in an extremely illegal fashion.
As a therapist working with high offense young men, you find that at one time they were good boys just like our own sons. Some are remorseful such as this young man. Once he took a walk back into his childhood, he began to see how and why is life went so wrong. Now he's paying a high price for it. He got 9 years in prison.
He was transfer to state prison about a month before I was terminated from the job. He has been on my mind since then. I remember him being so afraid to go alone. He said he's be ok if I were to go and still be his therapist. Unfortunately, that's not how life works. He did develop some coping skills to take with him, but without reinforcement, how well has he done? He had become like a son to me.
Well, good news is, I found him today, or should I say, I found out what prison he is in. I just want to drop him a few lines to see how he is doing. His family wasn't very supportive and made promises to visit him in juvenile hall but never showed up. Often times, he would sadly say, "Ms. Lori, I wish you were my mom."
So, I took the time to write him a letter. It can take a while before I receive a letter back. Prison may have changed him and he may not want to have any contact with me or he may not remember me. It's been two years. A lot can happen in that length of time.
We will see....positive thoughts.