Mind you, the information we get about the kids' histories is sometimes heartbreaking and usually tragic. Common themes are sexual, physical and emotional abuse, homelessness, prostitution and drug addiction, i.e., the usual gamut of the white trash and ghetto experience. The boys will often repeat the cycle of abuse or at least act out the antisocial behaviors that they have learned from their upbringing. It is through these meetings that we try to understand these cycles and then decide how best to break them.
It wasn't a big surprise then, that under a lot of stress Jaques, a 12-year-old of Haitian descent jumped up on a table, pulled out his dick and started waving it around yelling, "Who wants some chocolate milk? Aw yeah, I know you want some of that chocolate milk, now come and get it. How 'bout you, Tyrell, I know you like to fuck boys!"
On some level, Jaques was harkening back to the days when he was prostituted out to crack dealers by his junkie mom and dad. A seasoned veteran may observe this behavior and make a comment such as, "You seem really stressed out, Jaques. I'd really like to help you out but I can't do that when you're naked. Let's put your clothes on and think about better ways to talk about your anger." Best to address the underlying feelings that cause the behavior, rather than react to the disgusting behavior.
Tyrell was a stocky, dim-witted staff who was as badly "ghetto-ized" as any of the kids. I never figured out how exactly he was allowed to work with children, I just figured he knew somebody and was able to pull some strings. He was illiterate, could barely enunciate well enough to be understood, and sometimes seemed to be enjoying chemical pleasures.
Tyrell's response to Jaques behavior was to tackle him and drag him by the feet to the Quiet Room where he launched him into the far wall, head-first.
Tyrell tried to use his verbal skills that he learned from staff meeting. "You only do dat cuz yo' mama fucked you up. You don' know if you some kinda faggot cuz you fucked up in the head by yo' mama. You jes' git yo' ass beat once or twice and you stop, you'll see."
This strategy didn't seem to be working on Jaques, who had now stripped down naked and was peeing on the walls. Tyrell called to Jaques through the door, "Oh, I see. I know what you doin'. You peein' cuz yo' daddy messed wiff you an' now you some kinda faggot. You fucked up boy, an' someone need to beat yo' ass!"
Hearing this, I decided to relieve Tyrell and switch off with him. I rounded the corner to the Quiet Room to hear Tyrell yelling, "Oh I know you not about to do dat! Oh you did, you muthafucka!"
Jaques shoved his own shit through the top crack of the door. It oozed out like that Playdough barbershop toy and plopped on to the floor. I laughed at Tyrell and called out, "The eagle has landed, the eagle has landed!"
Tyrell said, "Dat jes' one fucked up muthafucka. Ain't no hope for him." He walked out of the house right then and there and I never saw him again.
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