Kid Stuff

When we first moved here, and people asked us how long we planned on staying, I said, "I want to see these kids graduate from high school."

Right now, Ruthie's up at the Christian Community Development Association (CCDA) conference, and I'm here alone at the complex. Today, after finishing work, I pulled into our parking lot and saw four guys all wearing matching black shirts and blue shorts, strutting around and jostling each other. They were headed toward the playground.

I pulled into my parking spot and hopped out, ready to chew out these gangsters who thought they could mess with the kids on our playground. Turns out, two of them were Melvin and David, the two guys I've been pouring my life into lately.

"Wassup, Ian?" Melvin called.

"Not much. Are you guys in a gang now?"

"No," said David.

"So you're dressed up in matching colors by accident? All four of you?"

"Yeah, man. That's it," replied David.

With that, they turned and strutted off. These guys are in fifth grade.

I remember forming a gang in fourth grade at our missionary school in the Philippines. We had a big brawl on the playground. A bunch of my best friends were on an opposing gang. It was a generally fun time until recess ended and we got caught.

The reason I can't shrug it off when David and Melvin and some of the other kids from the complex start strutting around in matching outfits without a decent explanation, is that their default is different than mine was.

Our families were usually there to catch us, give us a talking to, and make sure we straightened up. For these kids, with parents who don't speak the same language, whose schools are violent places, the default is not such a sure thing.

If you talk to them in group, you don't stand a chance. But I have one-on-one relationships, so I'll be getting involved. When I said I want to see these kids graduate high school, I knew that I might have to dive in to help them make it that far.