So you’re probably wondering, why I am I telling you all of this? And rightly so. Well, last night Adam and I watched Frontline and it was on “The Interrupters”. If you haven’t seen it, I highly suggest clicking on the link and watching some of the clips. It was a moving and poignant mini-documentary about this dispute and conflict resolution organization in Chicago. They are based in neighborhoods where violence is the norm, and has been for decades. Kids come up in families with one or both parents in jail and/or surrounded by violence on a daily basis. One of the local funeral directors said of the 150+ funerals he had one year, 90% of them were young people (kids 24 and under). The Interrupters are tired of this violence. Most of them (if not all) were once involved in the very violence that they are fighting against. Former gang members, drug dealers, etc, but the people in the community respect them now because they know the struggle and they were able to get out. They get calls when they hear a potential argument could turn into a fight, which could then escalate to a shooting or stabbing then gang retaliation. They don’t always stem the violence, but the director purports that acts of violence in the areas where the Interrupters are present are down about 40%.
But that’s not what troubles me. What troubled me in watching this show, and subsequently dreaming about those young people is my feeling of helplessness. It’s the same feeling I had when I was in the slums of Nairobi. You see all these beautiful children with so much potential, but they don’t see a way out. Little children who say the one thing they would change about their neighborhood is the shootings! (The one thing I would have changed about my neighborhood was having no traffic so we could play kickball in the street longer). Watching this show made me want to help young minority kids growing up in challenging environments, but who am I to come in with my suburban middleclass background and try to tell these people how to change their lives. I know nothing of their struggles, their fears, their hopes, and their dreams. But my heart hurts for them, for my people who have been disenfranchised and brought up in conditions that are soo hard from which to escape. Violence or abject poverty is the norm. And studies have shown that the most successful aid comes from organizations run by people in the community being helped, like The Interrupters or Carolina for Kibera. So, where is my place in this? Can I help? How can I give them hope and a way out? Is it even possible for me, as an outsider?






