Over and out
Oh how deflated can you get?
I went on street last night and was having a great night till I saw him. He was wearing an oversized T shirt and new looking denim 3/4 pants.
Who's this? You ask, An eleven year old boy whom I like to call Juzzie.
He struts down the walk way towards the van, cigarette in hand and a determined look on his face.
He sees me and says hi, I smile and make sure that he knows I want to catch up on what he's been doing with himself. I haven't seen him on street since the last Friday in October, that was two weeks after his father was beaten by a pack of street youths because Juzzie had told them that he had hit him.
So we sit down and we talk.
It's small talk, he shows me he's new found trick, how to roll a cigarette and use cardboard as a "filter".
We keep talking, school, how he's going at home with his foster family, his mum - then his father.
"Dad died on the second of November. He was in a car accident. I go to platform 3 and 4 at the station and just cry. I cry and cry. I remember. That's where he got beaten up. Cos' of me. "
He's little face turns a little podgy and he's eyes slightly swell up with tears.
A wave of emotion sweeps over me and all I want to do is hug him. I don't, I listen to him as he tells me how he feels.
It's a glimpse into the little boy who people forget he is and who he doesn't want to be.
He turns it into anger towards his Dad, brother and then at this moment Street works come a guy and girl and he turns it to them.
She stood in front of him looking down at him as we were both sitting on the gutters edge.
"Come on, come home.You can't stay out hear all night"
"Yes I can."
"No you can't, we can take you home"
"I'm not going. Fuck off!"
I stand up and leave " I'm not going to sit hear and listen to you speak like that"
He argues with Street works for a bit longer then walks off up to the steps. Fifteen minutes he comes back and wants to talk again. Street works aren't in toe this time. We start to talk again and he opens up a little and I tell him a true story of a young man who was put away in a detention center and the result of his actions.
It seemed to sink in a bit. Again at this moment street works came and this time he waited a little longer before he told them where to go.
Worker: "Are you ready?"
Juzz: "Fuck off. - oh sorry" He waved at me.
I shake my head and get up. He looks up and he's eyes widen.
Juzz: "No!- Bugger off! See ( he looks to me) that's better isn't it bugger off's better!"
Worker "Yes, that's better -"
Me : "No it's not. You shouldn't speak like that to him"
I leave again. I wanted to stay but I know that if I did it's really showing that I don't mind so much if he talks like that and I he knows it's unacceptable.
Anyway, we again later sat down and continued talking.
It was time to for us to leave the street.
Juzzie : "Oh look at that, good timing, we've just finished and your leaving"
I smile at him. "Go home juzzie, Just so it looks good for you"
He starts to walk off.
Me: "Hey don't I get a hug?"
He's face changes. Another glimpse of the child with in. We hug good bye and I leave, he walks off back to the steps.
I don't know if he did go home, I don't know if anything I said made a difference.
At least I know that he values my thoughts of him.
I felt emotionally guttered after last night. Driving home all I wanted was another person to hold me. To feel the comfort and care, not going to happen.
I again talked myself out of it. I managed to kill the thought of how it would be nice to come home to someone but I couldn't kill the feeling of emptyness.
The thoughts of Juzzie,11 years old and getting into the wrong crowd and that stupid feeling managed to give me about 4 and a half to 5 hours sleep and a flat feeling all today.
My boss managed to top off my day,being negative about my hairdressing skills and making me doubt myself. Oh! But on the other hand it looks like I've won two tickets to gold class Hoytes or something!... Care factor??!! You've just told me I'm not up to scratch (my words, not hers) do I really care about the tickets! Answer, No! Makes me shake my head in disbelief. Whatever. I'd prefer to give those tickets away to someone who would like them. Hey, maybe the apprentice. She deserves them too.
Anyway. That's my blog for today. A bit flat,yes - But tomorrows another day.
I went on street last night and was having a great night till I saw him. He was wearing an oversized T shirt and new looking denim 3/4 pants.
Who's this? You ask, An eleven year old boy whom I like to call Juzzie.
He struts down the walk way towards the van, cigarette in hand and a determined look on his face.
He sees me and says hi, I smile and make sure that he knows I want to catch up on what he's been doing with himself. I haven't seen him on street since the last Friday in October, that was two weeks after his father was beaten by a pack of street youths because Juzzie had told them that he had hit him.
So we sit down and we talk.
It's small talk, he shows me he's new found trick, how to roll a cigarette and use cardboard as a "filter".
We keep talking, school, how he's going at home with his foster family, his mum - then his father.
"Dad died on the second of November. He was in a car accident. I go to platform 3 and 4 at the station and just cry. I cry and cry. I remember. That's where he got beaten up. Cos' of me. "
He's little face turns a little podgy and he's eyes slightly swell up with tears.
A wave of emotion sweeps over me and all I want to do is hug him. I don't, I listen to him as he tells me how he feels.
It's a glimpse into the little boy who people forget he is and who he doesn't want to be.
He turns it into anger towards his Dad, brother and then at this moment Street works come a guy and girl and he turns it to them.
She stood in front of him looking down at him as we were both sitting on the gutters edge.
"Come on, come home.You can't stay out hear all night"
"Yes I can."
"No you can't, we can take you home"
"I'm not going. Fuck off!"
I stand up and leave " I'm not going to sit hear and listen to you speak like that"
He argues with Street works for a bit longer then walks off up to the steps. Fifteen minutes he comes back and wants to talk again. Street works aren't in toe this time. We start to talk again and he opens up a little and I tell him a true story of a young man who was put away in a detention center and the result of his actions.
It seemed to sink in a bit. Again at this moment street works came and this time he waited a little longer before he told them where to go.
Worker: "Are you ready?"
Juzz: "Fuck off. - oh sorry" He waved at me.
I shake my head and get up. He looks up and he's eyes widen.
Juzz: "No!- Bugger off! See ( he looks to me) that's better isn't it bugger off's better!"
Worker "Yes, that's better -"
Me : "No it's not. You shouldn't speak like that to him"
I leave again. I wanted to stay but I know that if I did it's really showing that I don't mind so much if he talks like that and I he knows it's unacceptable.
Anyway, we again later sat down and continued talking.
It was time to for us to leave the street.
Juzzie : "Oh look at that, good timing, we've just finished and your leaving"
I smile at him. "Go home juzzie, Just so it looks good for you"
He starts to walk off.
Me: "Hey don't I get a hug?"
He's face changes. Another glimpse of the child with in. We hug good bye and I leave, he walks off back to the steps.
I don't know if he did go home, I don't know if anything I said made a difference.
At least I know that he values my thoughts of him.
I felt emotionally guttered after last night. Driving home all I wanted was another person to hold me. To feel the comfort and care, not going to happen.
I again talked myself out of it. I managed to kill the thought of how it would be nice to come home to someone but I couldn't kill the feeling of emptyness.
The thoughts of Juzzie,11 years old and getting into the wrong crowd and that stupid feeling managed to give me about 4 and a half to 5 hours sleep and a flat feeling all today.
My boss managed to top off my day,being negative about my hairdressing skills and making me doubt myself. Oh! But on the other hand it looks like I've won two tickets to gold class Hoytes or something!... Care factor??!! You've just told me I'm not up to scratch (my words, not hers) do I really care about the tickets! Answer, No! Makes me shake my head in disbelief. Whatever. I'd prefer to give those tickets away to someone who would like them. Hey, maybe the apprentice. She deserves them too.
Anyway. That's my blog for today. A bit flat,yes - But tomorrows another day.
posted by kaz at 5:20 PM
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