The Next Time You See, Charlie.

A short story of the experience our family had after adopting a 16 year old black inner-city kid. What we both learned.

     

        The first time I saw Charlie I was pulling in my driveway. He was on a bike and looked like he was cutting through the yard. He was also carrying a brown paper bag. I didn't really think too much about it at the time,but later I was curious why he would be along the side of the house.

 

When my youngest son(Jeremy) got home I asked him if he knew anything about what I'd seen. "Oh yea,dad...that was Charlie. I loaned him some clothes and stuff and told him I'd lay them in a bag by the house." He explained.

"Clothes?" I asked.

That's when I found out the whole story. Charlie lived in Lincoln Heights,about 10 miles away.

Jeremy and Charlie were friends and Charlie didn't have clothes for school.

 

Jeremy told me how Charlie lived with his grandmother and mom. His mom was a heavy crack user. Charlie's dad was in prison. His situation was bad. He often would be sitting out on the curb at 2am because the noise and smell of crack made him try to escape. I was haunted by this situation for days, then I decided to try and help. I had Jeremy bring Charlie home with him.

 

He was the most polite 16 yr old I'd been around. He also was so anti-drug he didn't even like taking aspirin. One of many sterotypes he shattered. I talked with my wife about Charlie. He didn't have a chance at a decent life living in the conditions he was in. I asked Charlie if we could meet his grandmother. You could tell she was Charlie's world.

 

When we pulled up to his house it looked like how you expect a crack house to look. I had lived on the street and had found myself in many houses that looked the same. The gutters had little trees growing from them. There were over grown shrubbery spreading through the rails, and up unto the porch. Charlies grandmother was a beautiful older black woman whose eyes reflected the hell she had seen. I told her I knew about Charlie's situation and asked if there was anything we could do,including taking him to our house to live.

She was genuinely touched. All she kept saying was

"I try with that girl,Lord, I have prayed." "I have done everything, but she can't let go of that evil stuff."

 

 

 

 

Then she said "If you could take him away from here so he got a chance in school, it would be a blessing from God."

I told her we would do that...with her permission.

"Oh Lord yes..He's a good boy. He just needs to get away from here."

 

With that,I now had three sons. Right from the start I told him I would not treat him differently from my other boys, something said...not easily done. I also told him it wouldn't always go smooth, that we both had things to learn about each other. We went out that day and bought twin bunks for Jeremy and him.

When we were alone I told my wife there were going to be rough spots as we learned about each other,but that it was something we had to do. She agreed.

 

One of the first little adjustments we faced,and laughed at was Charlie's request at the grocery store. "Dad..can we buy some of this hot sauce?" Charlie called me Dad from the first day he moved in.

"No problem,Charlie..I like hot sauce,too." I said. Soon we found out that Charlie didn't just like hot sauce,he loved it. He put it on "everything." I mean everything. It became a running joke in the house. He put it on mashed potatos...eggs...bologna sandwiches...macaroni and cheese. You name it, he had to have his little red bottle.

 

We kept Charlie for about a year, until his uncle from Pittsburgh offered him a chance to come live with him and his wife. During that year Charlie taught me as much as I taught him. We often got into some heated discussions,but he wasn't afraid to hug me afterwards.

One of the hardest things we dealt with in that year were all the lies he had come to believe about white people.

 

I remember once,on a sunday he got a severe toothache. We didn't know what to do. Finally, I called our kids dentist and explained our situation,including the fact we had no insurance on him. The doctor told us to meet him at his office in an hour. The doctor was there when we pulled in the lot. You could see the hesitation in Charlie's face. The doctor looked at Charlies tooth and said "This has to come out now." Then he said "Don't worry about the money." This seemed to perplex Charlie even more.

White people don't do anything for blacks unless they want something. That was it. He even admitted as much on the way home.

 

He had been taught these myths that abound in the inner-city culture. You don't trust white people. I challenged him on the dentist's kindness.

"What did he gain from helping you?" "Do you think he was being kind out of some kind of guilt?"

"Could it just have been a simple act of kindness?" Charlie wasn't sure what to think.

 

One clash we had happened while watching "America's Most Wanted." A guy had brutally stabbed his girlfriend, and as the police entered the front door,the killer ran out the back door and down the alley. When the police ran out looking for him,a guy standing in the alley pointed to where the guy ran. Charlie let out a disgusted moan.

"Man..he snitched him out!" This lead into a fiery debate.

 

"What if that woman was your Grandmother,Charlie?" He didn't even hear me. All he saw was a "snitch." It was that cultural web that has intangled the inner-city mind set. I was pissed at him for being blind to the black victim. I never missed my chance to point out the myths he had ingrained him. It was the same cultural web that caused the students at Howard University to cheer OJ's innocent verdict.

It is a web that allows bright students to actually believe that the white man had devised an eloborate conspiracy in a matter of minutes that would have had to include hundreds of police, all to frame OJ. Charlie was also caught in that cultural web. If he fails,it must be racism. Over that year Charlie also showed me valid reasons for some of his thinking. He made me see some of my own bias. He made me see where much of his suspicion came from, and how alot of my belief's were injected by the media. But we never went to war,and we both grew to love each other.

 

When it came time for him to go,it was difficult. We both stared at each other a long time before we hugged. So many great things happened over that year. That Christmas was our best one ever. I also took him to the track coach after watching him and my oldest son(Joe) race in front of our house. Joe was fast,but Charlie smoked him. Charlie was nervous about trying out for track,but ended up being a star on the team. All those things went through both our minds before I dropped him off.

 

I'm an emotional guy and so was Charlie. Saying good-bye was hard. "Thanks dad." Those were his last words. My last words were "Take care,Charlie." We both wanted it to be quick and as painless as possible.

 

So,if you see Charlie... all I ask is that you don't lie to him. He's a good kid. Tell him that good people come in all colors...and that the truth has a color of it's own.

Reviews

[Jaclyn]

After reading this, I'm a bit ashamed of myself. I would NEVER be called a rascist, but I think somewhere in the deepest recesses of my mind, I often think that certain cultures do things to perpetuate the stereotypes that hold them back. However, in reading how certain mindsets are ingrained from a lifetime of living in a certain way, it really makes me think differently...

This was also a very sweet entry. I liked it alot. :) Do you guys still talk at all? What is Charlie up to now?

[Janyce Helen Van Es]

This was quite a story. The average person wouldn't get involved in a dysfunctional family and take on the responsibility of raising an "at risk" child. Everyone should see both sides of view when it comes to racism. The blacks can't forget the horrors that were imposed on them and the whites make excuses of illiteracy for not giving them a chance to rise above it all.
Our nation especially is a melting pot of every kind of culture and it's ashame that the education process can't start in the beginning teaching children that every culture puts their pants on one leg at a time-if they wear pants.

[None]

Your family did a wonderful thing to open your home to a teen who needed it badly. Your story is tender and it's good you showed Charlie the ropes. I hope you hear from him some day. I really enjoyed your story.

[Melanie Jane Boicourt S..]

Oh! that was another great one. You are on your way to sainthood if this is true.
Love All, Mejasha