Good

I want to add something because I want to add a glimmer of positivity. I mean, this is all anecdotal but I’m housing one of my daughter’s friends right now.

I’m still learning her history because I have absolutely zero guardianship over her and I don’t pry because she’s been through so much and she shares when she’s ready. Her mother passed about two years ago and her dad is in the wind. Her grandma has guardianship but treated her as a burden.

I play nice with Grandma so my new daughter stays by me. I’m not sure if CPS was ever called on either her mother or grandmother or if it was just because mother passed but ‘daughter’ has weekly therapy and a social worker who got her into a very decent state university.

She’s about to go visit for a tour and I’m so worried but also excited because she has a full ride from the state for a two or four year depending on what she wants. I’ve looked into the school and it’s pretty great. It’s going to be hard for my ex and I to pull off the same for our daughter.

The state of affairs are abysmal these last few decades but there are still good people trying to do good things. The Man isn’t out to get you if you’re lucky enough to get the right government employee. Or maybe you just have to suffer enough.

I know the young lady I’m talking about deserves this chance and I’m ecstatic that she has the opportunity. It makes me feel a little guilty that I’m going to miss her, but in a good way.

I wish every kid and every parent didn’t have to worry so much about getting into trouble because they’re already struggling. The horrors I’m learning this child has gone through shouldn’t be the bar by which we set as deserving of a higher education.

I have barely anything to offer but even just feeding her and teaching her to cook and do laundry and taxes and set up a bank account makes me some sort of goddess in her eyes and I’d love to take credit but it’s just too tragic to me that a child considers this little bit I have to offer as some sort of gift. What I have to offer as a ‘gift’ is not. It’s what any child should be entitled to. I’m happy that she finally feels comfortable enough to add things she wants to the grocery list without worrying too much that she’s putting me out in some way.

This is a little different but it sticks out.

My baby brother was born in 91 and when he eventually got into kindergarten one of his teachers flagged him for his speech impediment. He’d pronounce his P’s as B’s.

He was 5 and talked a mile a minute before he was two. He just couldn’t quite get the hang of that one part.

My parents weren’t worried. We were all helping him. My other brother and I were 6 years older than him and we we’re latchkey kids by the time I was 10.

My parents worked second/third jobs and second/third shifts rotating to make everything work for us. We barely saw them both at the same time.

I remember my Ma, and even Pops, being pissed as fuck and our chores and cleaning day was ramped up for a month or two, and all us kids had individual therapy sessions where they grilled us with questions we didn’t understand because the school call CPS on them because they wouldn’t (read: couldn’t) make after school speech therapy work with their schedules and they knew he’d learn on his own eventually anyway. They just made my parents lives that much more stressful in that time.

This was over 30 years ago now and I have my own kids, and bonus kids even! I have my own stories I could tell but this is the absolute worst because I saw how much it stressed out my overworked parents. My brother is a functioning member of society who got over his slight speech impediment within the year, with our help but mostly letting him develop on his own time.

Meanwhile, us kids just considered it a matter of course that we wrap up plates and Tupperware after each meal. One plate for Gertie our nextdoor neighbor and whatever was left went to Jorge’s family two doors down. We also learned how to mow the lawn only so the Grandma and Grandpa Hass, our other next door neighbors wouldn’t have to anymore. They weren’t actual family but they were to us. Jorge’s family got all my and my brothers’ hand-me-down clothes for his younger siblings, too. We didn’t quite understand why at the time. It’s just what you do. But yeah, make a struggling family’s life that much harder with your performative concern.