The Brooklyn Family Court was a true chamber of horrors. The
popular legal phrase of the seventies was a "neglect petition." If a
judge granted the social agency's request for a two-year continuance,
the parents would have visitation rights, but at the discretion of the
agency.
For many parents, the availability of visitation far
exceeded their actual interest in seeing the children. The kids who
remained at home gave them enough problems. Out of guilt, shame, or some
combination of complex emotions, most of them would show up in court
and proceed to do what they had not done for the past year or more -
show a deep and abiding concern for their children in placement. More
often than not, the theatrics took place in the office of the social
worker. On court day, many failed to show up.
It was like
witnessing a group of aspiring thespians playing the roles of devoted
parents before the judge and the others who processed poverty's children
in the five boroughs.
Lou was in court on an easy case today.
James Joseph, a surly seventeen year old with few redeeming qualities,
was up for continuance. At least he wouldn't have to witness any
perverse theatrics on this occasion. The circumstances of his entrance
into placement had been extraordinary. His own mother had decided to
resolve a dispute with James in a less-than-motherly way. It seemed that
James had his caustic wit turned full-blast on Momma. He was good with
words, certainly a better debater than his mother. However, Momma got
the last word that day when she went to her dresser, took out a loaded
thirty-eight, and placed the barrel under James' chin. According to the
police report of the incident, Momma's exact words were, "If you say one
more jive-ass word, James, I'm gonna blow your fucking head off!"
Although
James had not gone to church in years, he became a believer that day.
Something in his mother's eyes convinced him that only complete silence
could allow him to reach his sixteenth birthday.
James was highly incensed at this seeming lack of maternal affection. He had rights.
That night, he went down to the local police precinct and asked for protection from his gun-toting mama.
The
powers of the City of New York subsequently determined that pulling a
thirty-eight revolver on one's child was an act that neglected the
child's welfare, no matter how much of a smart-ass he may have been.
James had become a ward of the City of New York and Lou's client.
Last
week, Lou had taken the E Train to Nostrand Avenue in Brooklyn to visit
Mrs. Joseph. She greeted Lou and asked him to come inside. Helen Joseph
had prepared a chicken dinner for him.
Lou did not know what to
make of her. She appeared to be brusque when she spoke, at first, but
then she invariably softened up after a while.
The apartment was
typical of the Bedford-Stuyvessant neighborhood. There were holes in the
floor, paint peeling from the walls, and roaches bold enough to make
daytime appearances. For these squalid conditions, the landlord was kind
enough to charge a monthly rent higher than the one that Lou's Mom paid
for a clean and spacious six room apartment in Queens in a nice
neighborhood.
Lou thought of the conservatives who were constantly
bemoaning welfare fraud. "The poor are really leading beautiful lives
here," he thought to himself.
""Well Mrs. Joseph, James comes
before the court next week on a two-year continuance. What are your
feelings about having James come back home?" he asked.
She looked at him as her eyes started to tear. "Do I have to take him back?" she asked.
"Oh
no! Not at all," said Lou hopefully. After seeing what a true pain in
the ass James could be, he was genuinely concerned that Mrs. James might
kill him if James pushed her too far.
And make no mistake - James
could piss off the Pope. Six months earlier, a cop had put him in
Rikers Island, not because he jumped a subway turnstile, but because of
his hostile and superior attitude. Normally, the cop would just give a
kid a citation to appear in court, and that was all.
But James was indignant that the officer had apprehended him. Finally, the cop had heard enough and hauled him off to jail.
James had done what he did best, making people angry at him. The cop found a reason to jail him.
It was the first time he had ever done so to a subway fare-evader.
Would James push Mrs. Joseph too far again? Thank God she didn't seem to want him home again.
"Well,
I don't want you to think I'm a bad momma. I'm good to my two other
children, and I was good to James, too. But that child get nasty. The
older he get, the nastier he get," she said.
This was beautiful.
She didn't want him back. Lou had earlier visions of a New York Daily
News headline: "Mother kills seventeen year old son - Full investigation
of social agency urged by community leaders!"
Normally, he worked
hard to reunite the children in his care with their families. But a
cocked thirty-eight placed under the chin? James had told him once, "My
momma isn't so bad most of the time, but she gotta hell of a temper when
she get pissed."
"Mrs. Joseph," said Lou with his most soothing
voice, "You just go to work as usual. I'll take care of everything in
court. After this hearing, James will be an adult and there will be no
more court dates," he said.
Now, all that remained was to make the petition for a continuance of placement with the judge.
The waiting room was crowed with mothers and children. Lou was the only adult male in the room.
One
large woman kept hitting her children and screaming at them. She had a
huge button that said, "God is the answer." For the sake of her
children, Lou hoped that El Senor would be just that. If their salvation
truly rested with her, they were in serious trouble.
Finally, James' case was called. Since placement was uncontested, Lou walked out in two minutes.
Since
he was already in Brooklyn, Lou decided to stop by Marvin's house.
Other than reports of heroin use and packing a thirty-two, Marvin was
making an excellent adjustment to living in the East New York section of
Brooklyn.
The options were dismal. If Marvin stayed on the streets, he could well become an addict.
Should
he be convicted of a felony, he would be sent to a reformatory which
would enable him to return "bigger and badder" than when he left.
Marvin's
mother, Alice, was a friendly lady who was doing her best with five
kids. The brick tenement looked like a mugging about to happen. Lou
raced up the four flights of stairs and knocked on the door and
announced himself.
Alice opened the door, and Lou entered. Another
slumlord special, he thought. There were holes in the living room
floor. There were also several rodent traps in the room.
"Hello Alice. It's nice to see you," said Lou.
"Well, Lou, come on in. It's meaner than my landlord's heart in that hallway," she said.
She ushered him through to the kitchen. There were two place
settings. He could smell fried chicken. Lou thought how the poor gave
him more to eat and drink than many middle-class Americans he knew.
Indeed, such people were often likely to decline even a libation when
visiting others, as if they were all part of some perverse fasting
society. When one visited them, at most a drink was all one could
expect. They dined, and Lou inquired about her other children. After the
meal, Lou got down to business.
"Alice, we have got to work something out for Marvin. I see big trouble in his future unless we do something fast," he said.
She
shook her head sadly and started to cry softly. "What can I do? He too
big for me to whip him anymore. Don't do no good with him anyway," she
said.
Lou felt the time was right for his proposal. "Alice, I
don't want Marvin living in a reformatory, and I don't want him taking
heroin. If you sign some papers petitioning the family court to have him
returned to my agency, I can get him started on a work-study program
that has helped some other boys like him," Lou said.
He didn't want to press her on this suggestion. Lou sat silently and waited for her to speak.
She
looked at him for a few seconds before she spoke. "Lou, will you
promise me you get that boy in some kinda work-study?" she asked.
Lou assented.
"All right. Give me the papers. I hope I'm doing the right thing," she said.
"Don't worry Alice. You could be saving his life," said Lou.
"He don't like that group home. Marvin say the food good and the neighborhood nice, but you got too many rules," she said.
"Well,
Alice, I'll do my best to make it better. You can visit him. but
because of the heroin problem, I can't let him make weekend visits to
you for some time. However, I'll get you cab money to visit him in
Queens," said Lou.
"That be nice," she said.
It was a
successful morning. On the surface, all he had done was separate mothers
from their children, but in these cases, the decisions were not
difficult.
Lou left the apartment and walked back towards the IND
subway If he saw a pirate cab, he would take it. The neighborhood looked
like a mugging about to happen. Some of the tenements were uninhabited.
The windows were blown out. It looked like a scene from post-world war
two Berlin.
"What a disgrace," thought Lou.
Yet this was
nothing new for the "greatest nation" in the world. He had once read a
report by a commission, written at the turn of the century, that
concluded that the animals in Hell's Kitchen, a notorious section of New
York's west side, enjoyed better housing than the people. A crude and
brutal society, with signs that things could get worse. With that happy
thought, Lou's focus turned to lunch.
He made his way back to
Queens Boulevard and Continental avenue in Forest Hills. Looking up at
the sleek skyscraper apartment buildings and the wide expanse of the
boulevard, it was hard to believe that he was in the same city as East
New York. Lou enjoyed a chocolate egg cream and a sandwich.
He had
one hour before his meeting with his next client. Lou bought a New York
Times and ordered a coffee. The front page news wasn't good. Nixon was
still talking about a secret plan to end the war.
It was time to leave. Lou walked along the well-ordered streets of Forest Hills back to the office.
Tonight, he and Margot would visit a cocktail lounge and watch the moon landing with Johnny Ryan.
The sun was shining brightly. It was a good day to be alive.
Lou
kept thinking about his recent conversation with Margot. He had
proposed that they both quit their jobs and spend five or six months on
the island of Majorca. She seemed to be quite willing to make the move.
Since it was becoming evident that the city was driving her crazy, it
was hardly a surprise.
That night, they came to an agreement that
they would both give thirty-days notice on their jobs. In a little more
than a month, they were on their way to Mallorca.
After securing a B.A. in sociology, Mr. Honer pursued his
graduate studies at the City University of New York, John Jay College of
Criminal Justice, where he specialized in organizational theory and
design. He has served as an instructor at Windward Community College in
Hawaii, where he taught grant writing.
Editor and co-author:
"Adult Education for the Homeless: from the Streets to
Self-Sufficiency", Miller Freeman Inc. (San Francisco) 1999. This work
presents innovative strategies for helping homeless persons develop
basic skills.
Co-author: " California State Plan for Adult
Education and Family Literacy-July 1, 1999-June 30th, 2004", November.
1998. Provided a social framework for addressing the status of adults
with basic skills needs as a paid consultant to the California State
Department of Education. During the period from 1994 to 2001, Mr. Honer
was host and producer of Social Issues, a public affairs cable
television program that was cablecast monthly in Sacramento and San
Francisco. In the course of implementing many- employment, education,
social service and health education programs, Mr. Honer worked with a
wide range of minority populations. In 1990, he founded and co-chaired
The Coalition for Equity for Minorities, a public policy group committed
to social justice. His articles on social conditions have been
published both in the United States and in Spain. He also conducted
research on judicial corruption by New York City's five Mafia families
for the New York State Joint Legislative Committee on Crime. The
research resulted in the removal/resignation of two Supreme Court
justices.
Bill brings a cross-cultural perspective to his writing
as a result of his travels to 60 countries around the world. He
currently lives with his wife in Costa Rica.
