Tag Archives: juvenile detention center

All that I know is I’m breathing

IMG_6008Forgive me for going almost a month without blogging. I hope your holiday was wonderful and the upcoming one is just as joyous. It’s been an increasingly difficult month for me, and I’m trying to just get one foot in front of the other at the moment. Baby steps. But, don’t worry. I’m here, I’m fine and we’re going to get through this month. Of course by “we” I mean “I” and by “through this” I mean “if you choose to read along you’ll come on this journey with me.”

My Juvenile Detention Center story is finished, and I’m emotionally all over the place about this. This project has been my baby for the past month, and it has been the only thing I can focus on for the last week. I can hardly explain how vaguely cathartic, yet frustrating revisions can be. I wrote the first draft of this story in early November after my first session at the JDC. I used bits and pieces of that first draft in my second write up after my second session at the detention center last week, and have since landed on my … I want to say sixth revision. I always feel like I’m going three steps forward and then, like, 14 back. It’s just this endless cycle of “oh, I like this,” “no, wait, this is shit.” “okay, this is much better … oh, no it’s not.” And on and on and on.

After draft number three I sent a copy of the story to my mom. I asked, “What don’t you get in this story?” It turned out to be extremely helpful, but she also didn’t sound captivated by the story, and to be totally, brutally honest — I was crushed. I’m glad that this happened though, because it pushed me to keep writing.

Another revision completed, my editor and I went over copy No. 4 on Sunday and he told me, “the parts of this story where you’re talking to me as Kalhan and you’re confident are captivating, but you get too formal and hesitant and it completely drops the momentum. You have a magnificent voice. You need to use it.”

And with that advice in mind I said, “You’re right. F*ck it.” And I stopped caring about menial formalities and words like “incarcerated females” or “garnered mixed reactions” and I just told the damn story. I still can’t tell if it’s any good (I’m standing too close at the moment), but I get the vibe it is. I sent a few chunks of rewrite to my editor to which he replied, “(now I) love it. That’s Kalhan talking, which is how it should be.”

I hope this does the girls justice. I’m so afraid I’ll have put so much into this story just to have it fall on its face. But, hey, learning or something … right? I guess we’ll see. The story gets its final read on Wednesday before it goes into the system for publishing on Monday.

I just keep reminding myself about those baby steps. Just get your foot back in front of the other, I think to myself. One breath in. One breath out. And the minutes go by. Once this story is in the can I’m going to need another big lead. Bigger than this. Bigger than Belize (not that Belize is done in any regard, it’s just so long term sometimes I lose sight of the next point of contact). Just bigger, more consuming. And I think the answer to that predicament is sitting in the bottom drawer of my nightstand.

I’ll let you know if I’m right. Next week on Seria — uh, I mean, what?

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We’ve got no money, but we’ve got heart

I spent last Tuesday night in the Southwest Florida Juvenile Detention Center.

Obviously, I was there as a guest. I tagged along with the Junior League of Fort Myers, a volunteer group of these absolutely lovely women who dedicate their time to empowering other women and children. On this Tuesday they were working with the girls at the Fort Myers JDC and I decided it was a story I wanted to cover.

We arrived around — you know what? I could go into all the boring details of how we got there, how we get wanded down, etc. But, really, all I want to tell you about are the girls in the JDC.

There are only five girls in the JDC population right now. I talked to three of them: Anna*, Amy* and Lily*.

Anna, 17, wants to be a cosmetologist when she gets out of the JDC. You can tell she’s been practicing her coloring techniques because part of her curly, dark hair has been bleached platinum blonde. Sadly, she’s on her 26th round here. But don’t stigmatize her. She’s not a bad kid. Anna is adorable, well-behaved and polite. She tells me her favorite thing she’s learned from the Junior League’s visits is etiquette (a word she can’t pronounce quite right) and she nods at her elbows places just off the top of the table. She tells me her first time in here was because of a small bud of weed she accidentally brought to school in the eighth grade. She’s been in and out ever since. She eats Chick-fil-a chicken nuggets the Junior League has brought and encourages Amy to try her avocado sauce.

Amy is 14. She has long dark hair and freckles. She’s in here for fighting, but you would never know it looking at her and Anna talking. The girls share their food, have inside jokes and once in a while say the same thing in unison, which sends them into a fit of laughter. Amy says Anna is like her mom. Anna corrects her and says she’s more like her Oprah. They tell me they knew each other from school prior to being in the JDC. In their matching heather gray sweaters and khaki pants, It’s almost like they’re at camp. Amy tells me she likes being in the JDC. She says she feels safe here. “You never know what’s going to happen on the outs,” she tells me.

Lily is the last girl I spoke with. She is 14 years old. He blonde hair is buzzed short and two parallel lines shaved into her head end right before her left ear. She’s small (she seems to drown in an oversize orange sweater) but her eyes are big and green with long eyelashes shooting out in every direction. She says she’s been in the JDC for a day. Her mom called the police when she got in a fight with her younger brother, who she says is bigger than her. She has a 21-day sentence at the JDC. She talks about her love of sports and how sometimes she “gets to go out and shoot some hoops.” She says she’s pretty fast. I ask her what basketball team she likes. She says, “the Miami Heat.” I tell her, “me, too.” She smiles and we high-five. Then I ask her what football team she likes. She tells me she likes “the Jets, even though they suck.” I tell her we like all the same sports teams and she high-fives me again, grinning in the warmth of sharing something unique with one other person. She looks me dead in the eye, as if needing to convince me, and says, “I’m not book smart, but I’m very street smart.” I tell her I believe her. Lily tells me she wants to join the military when she’s old enough. She said she doesn’t care what branch, but she said her father was in the military and died in combat “shooting the bad guys.” She wants to do the same. I tell her to keep rooting for the Heat before I leave (we both know it’s pointless to root for the Jets). She smiles and bumps her fist with mine.

So after all of this, I wrote a story, which I could tell was missing something. My editor and I decided I need to go back one more time. So next month, I’ll be back at the JDC to see if any of those girls are still there. For some of them I hope they are, for others I hope they’ve found their way out of trouble. The Junior Leaguers told me this program has a stigma because it’s in a jail. But if anyone met these girls, they’d know how much potential they have, how much heart they’ve got. They just need help and guidance and for society to not give up on them.

This experience made me really want to join a big sister-little sister program, because everyone deserves to feel like someone cares. And after this, I know I really care about what happens to these girls.

*To protect their identity, the girls’ real names are not being use.

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