“I was labeled a
troublemaker, my Mom an unfit mother and I was not welcome anywhere.” ~Ryan White, an American teenager from Kokomo,
Indiana, who became a national poster child for HIV/AIDS in the United States,
after being expelled from middle school because of his infection. (1971-1990)
It had been awhile since Claire had seen her mother. She didn't understand exactly why she had left in the first place. The only explanation
she had been given was that she had to go away and would be gone for awhile.
Living with
her aunt was OK. Her aunt was always nice to her and took good care of her. But
she missed her mother. She worried that she was OK and whether she would ever
come back again.
When her aunt
told her they were going to visit her mom, Claire got very excited, but she was
also a little worried. Why were they going to visit her? Did this mean she was
never coming home?
The day came
for the visit. It seemed like the middle of the night when her aunt woke her
and told her it was time to go. They got on a big bus with a lot of other
people with children like Claire. Then they went to another place where they
ate breakfast and picked up more people with children.
The ride in
the bus was really, really long, but the people at the last stop had given her
a pretty purple shirt to wear, a bag of snacks, crayons, coloring books and
other nice stuff. Claire’s Aunt told her funny stories about her mother to help
her pass the time.
Finally, the
bus turned into a driveway that looked like the entrance to a big park. Claire
could only make out the few letters of the sign “C-H-O-W…” it read. Buildings
started to appear; lots of them. It looked like her school, but with a lot more
fences.
The bus
stopped in front of one of the biggest buildings. A nice lady got on the bus
and said a bunch of stuff Claire didn't understand. Then they exited the bus
and headed for one of the big buildings.
The next part
was confusing. Nice people in uniforms asked them to take off their shoes and
their belts and put them in a tub that went through a machine. Then they were
told to put them back on.
The people on
her bus were sent out another door and through a series of gates. Finally
everyone in the bus was told to walk to another building. There seemed to be
fences everywhere and funny looking round wires.
Finally they
came to a building with a double glass door. Inside they were met by two people
in uniforms – a man and a woman. Claire wondered what they were guarding. They
were directed to a large, locked door. Another man in uniform unlocked the
door, let them go through, then locked the door behind them.
The room was
full of people. Many of the women were wearing denim pants and short-or
long-sleeved denim shirts. Suddenly Claire heard someone yell her name. She
turned and saw her mother running across the room toward her. Her mother went
to her knees to embrace her daughter. Both her mother and her aunt began to
cry. “What’s the matter, Mommy?” Claire asked in bewilderment. “Aren’t you glad
to see me?”
The Central
California Women’s Facility in Chowchilla, California, is one of the largest
correctional facilities in the world, but “the road to Chowchilla is paved with
love.” The Get on the Bus Ministry brings children and their caregivers from
throughout California to visit their mothers and fathers in prison. One thing
that you learn on the road to Chowchilla is that stereotypes don’t work.
In today’s
world of disposable things, people become easily disposable as well. It’s
simple to label people as convicts and lock them away. Out of sight, out of
mind. Problem solved. But clichés like
“throw away the key” or “they wouldn’t be there if they didn’t deserve to be,”
don’t fit quite as comfortably when labels like “mother,” “sister,”
“grandmother,” or “loved one,” also apply to the same human being.
As stewards we
are called to discover the value in everyone and to love everyone. We don’t get
to choose who we love and who we don’t.
Why is it that
small children know instinctively how to love unconditionally while we adults
have so much difficulty loving one another?
Perhaps it’s
because we read the labels on the outside before we really see the person who
is inside.
Dear God:
Remind me to love first and worry about the labels later.
“If you have always
believed that everyone should play by the same rules and be judged by the same
standards, that would have gotten you labeled a radical 60 years ago, a liberal
30 years ago and a racist today.” ~Thomas
Sowell, American economist, social theorist, political philosopher, and author
(b 1930)
©2013 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.
