9-1-1 We Need Help Understanding Our Differences!

Last night was the carnival at my school. It's held out on our PE field and is steady flow of people throughout the night. For those of you who read my blog, you know that my school is culturally diverse. I love that. It is not reflective of our entire city, but it IS my picture of how it "should" be in some ways. It's the kind of place where people of different ethnicity and beliefs and socio-economic levels can exist together and respect one another.

So, my friend D and I were working the raffle table. She had a microphone and was kind of emceeing the whole event from our vantage point. The night was great fun. The kids enjoyed playing all the games, riding the rides, and bouncing in the bounce houses. Occasionally, throughout the event, people would come over and ask us to call for a missing person. And throughout the night, we watched reunions happen in front of us.

At 8:30 things changed.

A fifth grader (who has been retained twice and is 12) came over and asked, "Can you call for Quayviana and Donquavion to come to the basketball court?" {Note: I've changed the names, but left them no less creative than the actual names are.} So, we called. About 10 minutes later, the girl returned and said, "We still haven't found them, can you call again?" We did. Nothing. It was then that we started to ask questions:

• How old are they? {five} ---Hearing this, a bit of panic set in. It was, after all, dark!
• When was the last time you saw them? {I went into the bathroom and came out and they were gone.}
• Was anyone else here with you that might have taken them home? {No, it was just us. My Auntie is coming to pick us up.}

As you might guess, every "PTA Mom" in the place went into panic mode. We started searching the very dark campus for the children, with no luck. D and I are in charge when there is no administrator. So she went into "Administrative Mode" and I went to find flashlights for people to search. Still, nothing.

Over the next few minutes; police were called; our principal and assistant principal were called; and I found Auntie in the car waiting for the kids. She had been drinking and was a bit incoherent.

The police showed up and asked some of the same questions we had. They called in reinforcements and a K-9 unit to start searching the campus. Grandma showed up. The cell phones were being used to make frantic calls to other Aunties, Uncles, Boyfriends, and Cousins. Still nothing. Auntie was crying. She looked so alone. I hugged her and she just held on for dear life.

As if a lightbulb turned on, Grandma asked the fifth grader if her brother's girlfriend had been here that night. The answer was yes. They figured out the phone number and called her.

One hour after our ordeal began, the girlfriend answered her cell phone and confirmed that she did, in fact, have the two children. I think that was my first real breath in the hour. As the PTA Moms reassembled with their own children in tow, I could hear the rumblings. The questions:

• How COULD they_____________?
• WHY wouldn't they____________?
• WHAT do you MEAN they don't know their own child's phone number?

The questions were followed by such judgment. I found myself a bit miffed as I tried to explain.

The culture of these children is one that really is uniquely interconnected. People are "related" to one another by birth or by marriage or even by the location of their living quarters. Young children are often left on their own to fend for themselves. It is not uncommon, though, to make an older sibling (who could be as young as 8 or 10) or cousin, the care-giver. And, generally, the older sibling or cousin rises to the occasion and takes on the maturity of a much older person. It is NOTHING for kids to get in the car with an Auntie, or a boyfriend of an Auntie or a cousin's Daddy's girlfriend. Sometimes their "connectedness" is their greatest (and only) resource.

These are also people who are often living in poverty. The reason phone numbers don't work is because the bill wasn't able to be paid. It's hard to understand if you've never been unable to pay your bills.

And though I tried to explain a bit, I watched these blank stares from these well-to-do parents. And I realized that there is still a great chasm between us.

And though I was (and am) extremely glad for the happy ending, I found myself heartbroken and sad as I considered it all. I KNOW that I would have reacted different. I know that I would have been crying and a bit hysterical when the police got there. I know that I would have had phone numbers in my cell phone. But I will NOT and cannot stand in judgment of someone because their reaction and response is different than mine.

Today I find myself wondering just how, and when, and if, the gap will ever close. I hope so. I really hope so!