An Ugly Scene at the Shelter this morning

Everyone was sitting in the cafeteria this morning. I decided to go up and play the piano. A small black girl of about 9 came over and stood beside me as I played. I asked her if she wanted to play. She said yes but suggested that we play together and sat down next to me. I didn't know how we could play together so I just decided to watch her play.

She hardly touched the keys when a voice from the middle of the room shouted in our direction, "What are you doing sitting next to that man? You don't know him! Get your butt over here."

The girl put a smile on her face to hide her embarrassment. I wasn't embarrassed that she wanted to play or that she was sitting next to me. But apparently, the fact that she was sitting next to a homeless man who was a stranger was too much for the mother.

She went over to her mother under a barrage of yelling and hard criticism. I played the last little tune of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and then got up to sit back down at the table where my stuff was. It just so happened that where I sat was right next to the girl, her mother, and another child. I had a front row seat for everything that occurred next.

The mother berated the girl heavily. She was telling her to get her coat on. The chastisement was excessive, overblown, way too loud, and, needless to say, abusive.

We all sat there - perhaps fifty people - listening to the barrage. Conversations stopped. The woman that keeps order in the cafeteria as well as the security guard were attentive but were waiting for things to get bad enough.

The mother continued her violent attacks at her daughter. It was still at the level of verbal abuse, but anyone with keen instincts could tell what was coming.

The problem, as far as the mother was concerned, was that the daughter wasn't putting on her coat. But she was putting it on. It just wasn't fast enough for the mothers standards.

"Latesha, let me show you how you put it on." Getting close to her daughter by putting her hands on the coat was enough license for her to mistreat her daughter further. She began to jerk the child around violently and needlessly. Finally, the woman who is tasked with keeping order in the cafeteria came up. I was thrilled. This would be the end of it.

But to my bewilderment, she joined the mother in the chastisement. "Latesha, why don't you put your coat on like your mother is asking?" The mother used that as more of an opportunity to hurt her daughter. At that point, the woman with authority put her hand on the mother's arm to keep her from jerking the child around further. That was at least something, I thought.

Thinking everything was ok, the woman with authority left and went back to her spot in the room. The mother then said, "Latesha, I will go to jail for what I'm about to do to you." Soon after saying that, she repeated it again.

Then she said, "Let's get out of here so no one sees what I'm about to do to you."

These horrible sentiments continued to be spoken as she and the two children left the cafeteria.

I could only imagine what terror was felt by the young girl. During the whole exchange, she went from tears to heart-stopping terror. The only conclusion that could be made was that this was the regular treatment that the daughter receives.

I felt horrible for the little girl and disgusted with myself. I was too afraid of confronting the mother. Certainly, I could have said something.

What could I have said? I don't know... but something.

It was so terrible and vicious what she received but still I was too afraid to do anything. Why? Why did we all sit there and pretend it was ok? The only answer is that this is too common in the world today. It is too common in our own lives. We expect that young people sometimes deserve to be treated abusively even to the point of being jerked around, spanked, slapped, or beaten. Maybe it's because it happened to us too.

Whatever the reason, we all have a part to play in what happened today. The longer we take to make the right decision, the harder it will be.

As for myself, after the mother left with the two children, I felt dejected and stupid. I had an opportunity to stop it and I did nothing. I could have helped save the child some heartache and grief. But I didn't care.

I was too afraid of the way people would look at me and what the mother might do. A million excuses went through my mind:

"It's not my place."

"That's not your child. That's her daughter."
"What makes me think I can do better?"
"I just want to tell a black mother off because I am racist."

"There's nothing wrong with disciplining a child that is out of control."
"What are you doing? This isn't your job. Leave that to security."

"Look at how self-righteous you are. You're not going to stop parents beating their kids."

If I had to restrain the mother if she became violent towards me, what would happen then?

"Get your hands off of me!"
"Hey, stop assaulting her!"

"He put his hands on me! Get the fuck off!"

"Who the fuck are you to get involved! That's not your kid!"

"Just stop!"
"Someone call the police! This white boy's gone crazy!"

"You're out of this shelter! Get your stuff and leave!"

All of the excuses that ran through my mind were not valid. Not a single one was valid. It was all just my fear.

At the end of the day, I didn't care about the girl to help stop the treatment she got. In other words, I am fine with parents abusing their kids.

God help her because I don't want to.