I stepped out of my car and onto a street in Los Angeles's South Central wearing my interview-best outfit. It was mid-day but the streets were still full of people. Cars were driving by slowly, little kids ditched school and wandered the neighborhood, a drunk homeless man walked without a destination. Behind an iron wrought gate a woman played with her daughter as a young man rode past the house on a bike that was much too small to be his own.
I felt dainty, and a bit ridiculous, in my fashionable skirt. A local man did appreciate it and was sure to let me know as he passed me by on the sidewalk. He said, "Hey bebe, garble garble drunk talk garble garble, yeaaaa-haa!" Still got it, I reflected.
South Central is different from the part of LA I grew up in. You can feel the difference in your attitude, thought, and even your body when moving from one place to the other. A dirty sidewalk makes you feel different than a clean one. And you can't forget about our country's poverty issues when you're constantly surrounded by it's symptoms. And you realize that some kids grow up with this feeling everyday, as opposed to you, who spent the 1992 riots in the comfort of her home watching the Sound of Music, blissfully unaware of the fact that the smoke in the air was coming from a violent mob only 10 miles away. Being in South Central is just different. So is being in Malibu, Westchester, Echo Park, or even... the valley.
This is one thing I love about Los Angeles-- it's incredible diversity. Social classes exist separately in their own little neighborhoods, but we're all right next to each other. We cross through, over, and in between each other's worlds to get to work or to a friend's house.
Sitting in bumper to bumper traffic yesterday, which I don't mind as long as I have good music, I noticed that to my left there was a Muslim woman wearing a head scarf who had prayer beads hanging from her rear-view mirror. To my right was a Latina woman who had a rosary hanging from her mirror. We all have our separate boxes that we live in: our cars, our cultures, our neighborhoods, our economic classes. While we often let these barriers separate us, sometimes we allow them to fade. And even when we do not let our barriers down on purpose, commonalities still exist that connect us, like those two sets of prayer beads on rear-view mirrors, that remind us again that our barriers are, in fact, permeable.
While I do miss Alaska, it's a pleasure to be back weaving through Los Angeles on the freeways. I hope to be writing about it much more in the future. I owe this post to AJ who asked me to write about my city for his newsletter, and who forced me to look at it through new eyes. THanks dood!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
The Greatest Lessons of my Life (are still being learn't)
There comes a time in every person’s life when something horrible happens, something that shakes up your life so drastically, that it leaves you questioning your very understanding of good and evil, of how and why the world exist, of why you exist. At this moment, you may come to the conclusion that the universe is meaningless, or that its meaning is too great for our feeble, un-godlike minds to understand. Either way, the person has to accept that a satisfactory answer to the question, “WHYYYYYY!?!?!?” is not available.
It is at this crucial point, that a person begins a journey of thought and action to give meaning to his or her own life, despite the fact that shit happens, and ain’t nothing you can do about it. There are many strategies. Some achieve peace and meaning through spirituality, and I know others have chosen to try to live each day as if it were their last, without regret. In my moment, (I was in high school at the time) I chose the latter.
In Zorba the Greek, the character Zorba chose to live each day as if it were his last, also. I’m going to include one part of the story here:
"Look, one day I had gone to a little village. An old grandfather of ninety was busy planting an almond tree. 'What, grandad!' I exclaimed. 'Planting an almond tree?' And he, bent as he was, turned around and said: 'My son, I carry on as if I should never die.' I replied: 'And I carry on as if I was going to die any minute.' Which of us was right, boss?"
Living each day as if it were your last gives you permission to do a lot of things that have negative effects in the long term. For instance, if there’s a chance I could die tomorrow, I’m going to eat this entire can of bean dip with my fingers, I’m not going to class, and I think I might challenge someone to a knife fight and see if I can win. Etcetera, etcetera. I doubt I am the only one who has ever thought this way. And I’d bet that I’m not the only one who found herself living longer than expected, suffering the consequences of her choices, and finally asking herself, “What now?”
Well, now it’s time to plant some trees I suppose. It wasn’t as clear to me as it is now what my new path would be. I just knew that I was going to be less destructive… This idea is actually what brought about the title of this blog. My bro once wrote me a letter when I was still in high school that mentioned something about how I have a wildfire inside. While I am fairly sure he was referencing the intense mother-daughter fights I used to regale the family with, I felt it was an accurate description of my “insides,” so to speak. I felt very intensely that… I felt very intensely. My passion was misdirected and much like a wildfire, I caused havoc throughout the Californian West Coast. So I decided, hey—let’s keep the passion, just express it in a different way. Wildflowers. Yeah.
So at this point, I “followed my heart” to Thailand, then Alaska, and I took some chances. And who would have guessed, the meaningless universe threw me a bone. By being my goofy self I can do a lot of good things, make positive impressions on the lives of others. While I’m not prepared to write about it all just yet, I know things are happening. Far from figuring this all out, I do feel more confident that at the very least, my feet have tread the trailhead.
And by the way, I have never been in a knife fight.
It is at this crucial point, that a person begins a journey of thought and action to give meaning to his or her own life, despite the fact that shit happens, and ain’t nothing you can do about it. There are many strategies. Some achieve peace and meaning through spirituality, and I know others have chosen to try to live each day as if it were their last, without regret. In my moment, (I was in high school at the time) I chose the latter.
In Zorba the Greek, the character Zorba chose to live each day as if it were his last, also. I’m going to include one part of the story here:
"Look, one day I had gone to a little village. An old grandfather of ninety was busy planting an almond tree. 'What, grandad!' I exclaimed. 'Planting an almond tree?' And he, bent as he was, turned around and said: 'My son, I carry on as if I should never die.' I replied: 'And I carry on as if I was going to die any minute.' Which of us was right, boss?"
Living each day as if it were your last gives you permission to do a lot of things that have negative effects in the long term. For instance, if there’s a chance I could die tomorrow, I’m going to eat this entire can of bean dip with my fingers, I’m not going to class, and I think I might challenge someone to a knife fight and see if I can win. Etcetera, etcetera. I doubt I am the only one who has ever thought this way. And I’d bet that I’m not the only one who found herself living longer than expected, suffering the consequences of her choices, and finally asking herself, “What now?”
Well, now it’s time to plant some trees I suppose. It wasn’t as clear to me as it is now what my new path would be. I just knew that I was going to be less destructive… This idea is actually what brought about the title of this blog. My bro once wrote me a letter when I was still in high school that mentioned something about how I have a wildfire inside. While I am fairly sure he was referencing the intense mother-daughter fights I used to regale the family with, I felt it was an accurate description of my “insides,” so to speak. I felt very intensely that… I felt very intensely. My passion was misdirected and much like a wildfire, I caused havoc throughout the Californian West Coast. So I decided, hey—let’s keep the passion, just express it in a different way. Wildflowers. Yeah.
So at this point, I “followed my heart” to Thailand, then Alaska, and I took some chances. And who would have guessed, the meaningless universe threw me a bone. By being my goofy self I can do a lot of good things, make positive impressions on the lives of others. While I’m not prepared to write about it all just yet, I know things are happening. Far from figuring this all out, I do feel more confident that at the very least, my feet have tread the trailhead.
And by the way, I have never been in a knife fight.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Because many wonderful things have happened in my life besides that last post, and I didn't want to leave with a sad note, I thought I would write a second blog today and list some of the reasons my life is awesome.
1. I got a new key chain.
Yesterday at the end of the day, one of my veterans came into my office with a tote bag. He offered it up and inside was a green key chain and a little painted canvas. He wrote me a letter to say thanks "for talking to him." This guy was one of my "special" vets, who for one reason or another I felt especially attached to. I suppose part of it was that I know so assuredly that he is going to be okay, and that it's due to his own struggle to be a good man. He also has been going through a very difficult medical treatment that nearly killed him, and often times was barely able to get out of bed. Yet he would come in to work as often as possible, sometimes having to leave in the middle of the day and go to the hospital to recieve blood, he was so bad off. He would come into my office and I'd ask him about his meds, how he was doing, that sort of thing. I told him about my Dad and how he recovered from a very difficult treatment as well. I think we helped each other out. Anyways, I did my best not to get teary eyed with the gift. The end of his letter said, "I hope that someday, someone can do for you what you did for me." It meant a lot.
2. I made a new friend.
And she's awesome! This girl is making my last month here such a grand finale, and I'm having a harder time leaving as a result. It's nice to have a gal pal to talk to who I feel genuinely comfortable with.
3. I am making a positive lifestyle change...
...that has led to the loss of eight pounds!!
4. We are officially gaining sunlight in Alaska!
5. It's always sunny in Los Angeles!
6. I have AJ for one more month of love, love, love.
7. In one more month I can see my parents and bro again.
8. I own ice skates.
9. Tomorrow night is the board game/knee hockey tournament.
10. Tutto รจ veramente bello!
1. I got a new key chain.
Yesterday at the end of the day, one of my veterans came into my office with a tote bag. He offered it up and inside was a green key chain and a little painted canvas. He wrote me a letter to say thanks "for talking to him." This guy was one of my "special" vets, who for one reason or another I felt especially attached to. I suppose part of it was that I know so assuredly that he is going to be okay, and that it's due to his own struggle to be a good man. He also has been going through a very difficult medical treatment that nearly killed him, and often times was barely able to get out of bed. Yet he would come in to work as often as possible, sometimes having to leave in the middle of the day and go to the hospital to recieve blood, he was so bad off. He would come into my office and I'd ask him about his meds, how he was doing, that sort of thing. I told him about my Dad and how he recovered from a very difficult treatment as well. I think we helped each other out. Anyways, I did my best not to get teary eyed with the gift. The end of his letter said, "I hope that someday, someone can do for you what you did for me." It meant a lot.
2. I made a new friend.
And she's awesome! This girl is making my last month here such a grand finale, and I'm having a harder time leaving as a result. It's nice to have a gal pal to talk to who I feel genuinely comfortable with.
3. I am making a positive lifestyle change...
...that has led to the loss of eight pounds!!
4. We are officially gaining sunlight in Alaska!
5. It's always sunny in Los Angeles!
6. I have AJ for one more month of love, love, love.
7. In one more month I can see my parents and bro again.
8. I own ice skates.
9. Tomorrow night is the board game/knee hockey tournament.
10. Tutto รจ veramente bello!
A Damn Shame
I wrote this note yesterday when I was at work. Every time one of my guys or girls relapses it does hurt a bit. So I write something down about it and then I let it go. Here's one from yesterday.
Today should have been one of the worst days of Mr. Veteran’s life. He had been discovered drinking the day before he was supposed to leave for his daughter’s wedding.
For a moment when I walked in to the room to get my morning coffee I felt that perhaps this would be a day of reckoning for him. His eyes were bloodshot and teary, and he expressed worry about what would happen next. A month before I had taken him, myself, to a homeless shelter to sit and listen to a reading of names of those who were living on the streets, who had died in the past year. He was obviously uncomfortable. He had never been on the streets, but said to me that he’d used up the last of his resources. If he failed this time he would end up here with the drunks who came up to me, one moment in tears, the next in a jovial mood to tell me how many fights they’d been in. He also told me that if he were ever on the streets, he would surely die. He would surely end it, himself.
Later on when he seemed fine, and got permission from his poor daughter whose wedding he will surely ruin to come visit anyways, I realized that this, his seventh relapse, would be erased from his consciousness like all the other important moments when he should have learned some kind of lesson from his pain. He’s going to depend on his daughter to house him and she won’t have the strength to say no, or otherwise he’ll be on the streets.
This week is a record breaking cold week in Anchorage. For the past seven days it hasn’t reached above zero temperatures.
Today should have been one of the worst days of Mr. Veteran’s life. He had been discovered drinking the day before he was supposed to leave for his daughter’s wedding.
For a moment when I walked in to the room to get my morning coffee I felt that perhaps this would be a day of reckoning for him. His eyes were bloodshot and teary, and he expressed worry about what would happen next. A month before I had taken him, myself, to a homeless shelter to sit and listen to a reading of names of those who were living on the streets, who had died in the past year. He was obviously uncomfortable. He had never been on the streets, but said to me that he’d used up the last of his resources. If he failed this time he would end up here with the drunks who came up to me, one moment in tears, the next in a jovial mood to tell me how many fights they’d been in. He also told me that if he were ever on the streets, he would surely die. He would surely end it, himself.
Later on when he seemed fine, and got permission from his poor daughter whose wedding he will surely ruin to come visit anyways, I realized that this, his seventh relapse, would be erased from his consciousness like all the other important moments when he should have learned some kind of lesson from his pain. He’s going to depend on his daughter to house him and she won’t have the strength to say no, or otherwise he’ll be on the streets.
This week is a record breaking cold week in Anchorage. For the past seven days it hasn’t reached above zero temperatures.
Friday, January 2, 2009
That last entry came right before the onset of the flu. I was out of commission for awhile, and I guess I lost my momentum with the blog writing. But I have no excuse now-- I'm feeling better, the holidays have passed, and I am in Anchorage, spending my last few weeks of work tying up loose ends and applying for jobs online. In 2009, I will either begin to work as a Regional Recruiter for the Peace Corps, a Park Ranger in the Santa Monica Mountains, or perhaps a Special Events Assistant for the Museum of Latin American Art in Long Beach. Of course there is also the possibility that I will be unemployed for awhile and end up working at a Sizzler and living at my Mom's house. But for now I have high hopes that I will be hired on someplace where I can feel proud of myself.
Flying home for the break was a surreal experience. My flight left around 2:30 am. I popped two Tylenol PM after having a beer or two and tried without success to keep my eyes open until the plane took off. I woke up once when the stewardess was offering drinks and ordered a cup of tea. The woman in the seat next to me offered to pay for it since I was struggling to find my wallet. Later on I would repay her with a consecrated stick of gum. I fell asleep again and awoke when I reached my stop-over in Las Vegas. Out the window, the hills in the surrounding desert looked like topographical maps-- layers of dirt formed circular mounds with flat tops, piled one on top of the other. THe plane landed and the sun filtered in through the window. I closed my eyes and the light made the backs of my eyelids red. At that moment I remembered what it was like to soak up warmth from the sun, and also how much I missed it's bright existence in my life. I thought to myself, "this is the feeling of pure love."
It was an appropriate beginning to the week I spent with my family and catching up with friends. Returning home is like returning to myself again. I will be going back to los angeles very soon once my term here is up, and feel equal parts excitement to be with my parents and brother in los angeles's warm embrace, and reluctance to leave the person I love here in Anchorage, the first job that ever meant more to me than myself, the vets, the high peaks of white mountains and massive chunks of ice floating in a black ocean. Dramatic, eh?
And just for fun, look at this weird dog...
Flying home for the break was a surreal experience. My flight left around 2:30 am. I popped two Tylenol PM after having a beer or two and tried without success to keep my eyes open until the plane took off. I woke up once when the stewardess was offering drinks and ordered a cup of tea. The woman in the seat next to me offered to pay for it since I was struggling to find my wallet. Later on I would repay her with a consecrated stick of gum. I fell asleep again and awoke when I reached my stop-over in Las Vegas. Out the window, the hills in the surrounding desert looked like topographical maps-- layers of dirt formed circular mounds with flat tops, piled one on top of the other. THe plane landed and the sun filtered in through the window. I closed my eyes and the light made the backs of my eyelids red. At that moment I remembered what it was like to soak up warmth from the sun, and also how much I missed it's bright existence in my life. I thought to myself, "this is the feeling of pure love."
It was an appropriate beginning to the week I spent with my family and catching up with friends. Returning home is like returning to myself again. I will be going back to los angeles very soon once my term here is up, and feel equal parts excitement to be with my parents and brother in los angeles's warm embrace, and reluctance to leave the person I love here in Anchorage, the first job that ever meant more to me than myself, the vets, the high peaks of white mountains and massive chunks of ice floating in a black ocean. Dramatic, eh?
And just for fun, look at this weird dog...
Saturday, November 29, 2008
It's been a few days since I've written... the past week has been hectic, and fun. My time at work is winding down to an end, and when I leave our peer support tech will be taking over my day to day duties, so I'm spending a little bit of time training, still teaching my class, working on a marketing report, applying for jobs back home, and having some fun. Tuesday night we had our annual Thanksgiving dinner at work, when all of the current and former program participants come for a catered prime rib dinner. After eating we all played bingo for prizes like crock pots, fishing poles, gift certificates, DVDs, and more goodies. I can't take home prizes because I'm not a program graduate, but I still play. The glory of winning is enough for me.
Wednesday night I got free tickets to The Nutcracker ballet from my boss. The only catch was that I had to drive a car full of veterans there, which wasn't bad at all. Who else could say they had 8 dates to the ballet that night? We were in the very back row, but it was a small auditorium, and there were no bad seats. AJ came along and I think we enjoyed being able to dress up and look out over Anchorage from the large windows of the Performing Arts Center, as much as we enjoyed the ballet. We went from sitting in a somewhat bare apartment with a hole in the ceiling to a ballroom overlooking the park in one night.
Thursday I got up at 8:00 am. It would remain dark outside for another hour and a half. I began washing and preparing a 20 pound turkey for my first time. About four hours later, which was two hours too early, the bird was done. But everything turned out great despite the bad timing. I did leave the giblet bag in the turkey when I cooked it, but besides that, it was perfect! Aj made deviled eggs, and the other vistas came with mashed potatoes and gravy, vegetables and desserts, and I ended the night by having a couple drinks at a local bar named after a salmon (humpy's) and falling asleep four hours before everyone else.
Yesterday we were lazy and slept mostly, and spent the last couple hours of light walking to a movie theater where we could sit in the dark. We saw Four Christmases, then walked down to the local bookstore and spent a couple hours just wandering around.
Today I went snowshoeing with some friends up in Eklutna by a lake that has not yet frozen over. Turns out snowshoeing is just like hiking, only more intense. The snowshoes are made from a light metal and attach to my shoes with straps. They are meant to prevent my feet from sinking into the snow when it's five feet or deeper. It's a bit like climbing stairs because you have to lift your feet so high, and pluck them out of the snow when they get stuck. We walked while the snow fell and then stopped at a large tree, grabbed snow off of the branches and ate it. This zero calorie snack is a wonderful treat after a long hike. The best part of the trip were the moments spent in silence. When no one moved, there was no sound. Only slowly falling snowflakes everywhere and a million tall grey trees in all directions in the fog. In the distance the mountains could be seen through the snow. The forest was endless.
I still have one more day to relax! I'll try to upload some pictures tomorrow and will also try to not be as lazy about writing as I have in the past few days.
Wednesday night I got free tickets to The Nutcracker ballet from my boss. The only catch was that I had to drive a car full of veterans there, which wasn't bad at all. Who else could say they had 8 dates to the ballet that night? We were in the very back row, but it was a small auditorium, and there were no bad seats. AJ came along and I think we enjoyed being able to dress up and look out over Anchorage from the large windows of the Performing Arts Center, as much as we enjoyed the ballet. We went from sitting in a somewhat bare apartment with a hole in the ceiling to a ballroom overlooking the park in one night.
Thursday I got up at 8:00 am. It would remain dark outside for another hour and a half. I began washing and preparing a 20 pound turkey for my first time. About four hours later, which was two hours too early, the bird was done. But everything turned out great despite the bad timing. I did leave the giblet bag in the turkey when I cooked it, but besides that, it was perfect! Aj made deviled eggs, and the other vistas came with mashed potatoes and gravy, vegetables and desserts, and I ended the night by having a couple drinks at a local bar named after a salmon (humpy's) and falling asleep four hours before everyone else.
Yesterday we were lazy and slept mostly, and spent the last couple hours of light walking to a movie theater where we could sit in the dark. We saw Four Christmases, then walked down to the local bookstore and spent a couple hours just wandering around.
Today I went snowshoeing with some friends up in Eklutna by a lake that has not yet frozen over. Turns out snowshoeing is just like hiking, only more intense. The snowshoes are made from a light metal and attach to my shoes with straps. They are meant to prevent my feet from sinking into the snow when it's five feet or deeper. It's a bit like climbing stairs because you have to lift your feet so high, and pluck them out of the snow when they get stuck. We walked while the snow fell and then stopped at a large tree, grabbed snow off of the branches and ate it. This zero calorie snack is a wonderful treat after a long hike. The best part of the trip were the moments spent in silence. When no one moved, there was no sound. Only slowly falling snowflakes everywhere and a million tall grey trees in all directions in the fog. In the distance the mountains could be seen through the snow. The forest was endless.
I still have one more day to relax! I'll try to upload some pictures tomorrow and will also try to not be as lazy about writing as I have in the past few days.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Loogie sandwich
Today one of the homeless vets lost his job. He works in a food service capacity and threatened to spit in someone's food, yada yada yada, he's waiting around in the hallway.
This young gentleman is a graduate of my job readiness course. While I do not expect to be able to solve a lifetime's worth of mental health issues with one five week group, it is disheartening to see this man so genuinely upset because he doesn't know what he did wrong. After some counseling with a coworker of mine, he was able to see his part in the conflict, but I worry for him. When will he be able to stop himself from acting like this? When will any of them?
I've adopted several rowdy, elderly sons.
It'll be okay. Change happens slowly, especially with this crowd. I have hope for this person, which is why it worries me to see his setbacks over and over again. What can I say? I'm glad I work here, but I'm relieved to be going home in 20 minutes, childless and free.
This young gentleman is a graduate of my job readiness course. While I do not expect to be able to solve a lifetime's worth of mental health issues with one five week group, it is disheartening to see this man so genuinely upset because he doesn't know what he did wrong. After some counseling with a coworker of mine, he was able to see his part in the conflict, but I worry for him. When will he be able to stop himself from acting like this? When will any of them?
I've adopted several rowdy, elderly sons.
It'll be okay. Change happens slowly, especially with this crowd. I have hope for this person, which is why it worries me to see his setbacks over and over again. What can I say? I'm glad I work here, but I'm relieved to be going home in 20 minutes, childless and free.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Finally... some pictures
Here's some pictures! The first three are from Resurrection Pass down in Girdwood, Alaska. The last two are from the coastal trail here in Anchorage, where I took a walk today while there was still some light.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
I miss my old walks down West Cliff with Ms Carrie. Regina Spektor always reminds me of those days! I'm getting ready to leave work and go home then make the trek downtown to a little bar called Darwin's Theory and when I get drunk I get! But I won't get drunk becaue I don't have enough money and because my Mom reads this blog. But I will order a strong drink and eat some stale popcorn and walk home satisfied. I'll try to remember to take a picture or two at the bar and show ya next time. Last time we were there, a drunk elderly gentleman tried to sell us homemade christmas cards for 20 dollars a pack. Unfortunately for him, we had our meager funds set aside for drinking that night. As a friend says, "Vistas. That's French for poor." Anyways, it's a pretty laid back Alaska bar.
... I would continue this blog but my coworker is in my office talking about his internet dating adventures. Must go.
... I would continue this blog but my coworker is in my office talking about his internet dating adventures. Must go.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
One man's trash is another man's abandoned teenager
Nebraskan parents are abandoning their teenage children in hospitals after the passing of a controversial law, as explained in this article. The law was meant to prevent parents from abandoning their unwanted babies.
You might be asking yourself, "Wait, a law that allows you to abandon your baby, to prevent you from abandoning your baby?" It's confusing but true.
The law is a protective measure that has worked in other states, to protect the lives of babies who would have otherwise been left in garbage bins and other equally depressing places. Many states have a law like this, but usually the law stipulates that the children must be under a year old. This Nebraskan law was expanded to include children up to 17 years old whose parents are unable to provide for their well-being. However, what Nebraskan lawmakers are now finding is that parents who are financially capable of caring for their children are now abandoning them for other reasons, and using this law to get away with it!
What I want to know is, why would any parent give away his or her child if they didn't have to? Surely the child is worth something. Teenagers may only bring in a few thousand dollars, but babies are going for millions of dollars on the black market. And these are white babies! Those things sell like hotcakes! In times of such economic uncertainty, why would any American turn away a lucrative financial opportunity? Not only are they refusing a chance to earn good money, but some Americans are even spending money to drive from nearby states into Nebraska to drop off their leftover kids!
Am I the only one who sees this obvious misstep?
You might be asking yourself, "Wait, a law that allows you to abandon your baby, to prevent you from abandoning your baby?" It's confusing but true.
The law is a protective measure that has worked in other states, to protect the lives of babies who would have otherwise been left in garbage bins and other equally depressing places. Many states have a law like this, but usually the law stipulates that the children must be under a year old. This Nebraskan law was expanded to include children up to 17 years old whose parents are unable to provide for their well-being. However, what Nebraskan lawmakers are now finding is that parents who are financially capable of caring for their children are now abandoning them for other reasons, and using this law to get away with it!
What I want to know is, why would any parent give away his or her child if they didn't have to? Surely the child is worth something. Teenagers may only bring in a few thousand dollars, but babies are going for millions of dollars on the black market. And these are white babies! Those things sell like hotcakes! In times of such economic uncertainty, why would any American turn away a lucrative financial opportunity? Not only are they refusing a chance to earn good money, but some Americans are even spending money to drive from nearby states into Nebraska to drop off their leftover kids!
Am I the only one who sees this obvious misstep?
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