Initially, I thought to join others who will analyze every minute detail of Tuesday’s election: What should Washingtonians expect in the era of Mayor Adrian Fenty? How will he respond to estimates that the District may enter fiscal 2008 with a $200 million gap between spending and revenues? (I’m a pig in slop when it comes to this kind of stuff.)
But, on the road to this post-election column, I met about 20 girls at the Hyde Leadership Academy in Northeast — one of the city’s best charter schools. They touched me deeply and reminded me of the lens through which we should evaluate government, politics and politicians.
I went to Hyde under the auspices of Neuhtah Opinotennione, a teacher at the school, and two nonprofit organizations — Esther Productions Inc., which I helped found two years ago, and the National Organization of Concerned Black Men, which among other things operates an abstinence project in several city schools. I wasn’t there to compare Hyde’s success rate with D.C. Public Schools. I had been invited to speak with girls — ages 12, 13 and 14 — about the importance of fathers to daughters. I went to tell my story about a life initially misdirected because of my biological father’s absence. Mostly, I wanted to hear their stories.
And so I did: A few lived in two-parent homes. Most of the girls — whose real names I will not use — lived without fathers; others lived in homes without their biological mothers or fathers. Their smooth, innocent faces belied their emotional scars. There were (are) gaping wounds in their hearts where the love of parents, particularly fathers, should have been. Their laments were unforgettable.
Listen:
“Some of you say you hate your parents. I don’t think you should say that. You don’t know how lucky you are, ” says Marie, tears streaming down her face, after telling the group about her mother’s return from prison, brief stay and subsequent departure. Marie finds comfort in the arms of grandparents, but longs for her own mother and father.
“My father would tell me he was coming to visit. I’d get dressed. Then, he wouldn’t come. He’d call and say he was coming, again. I stopped believing him,” says Sandra before a room of daughters — adults and children — many remembering their own fatherless story.
“At first I was living with my grandmother, then an aunt and then an uncle,” says Brenda. “I feel like nobody wants me.”
Later, when I replayed each story, tears flooded my face. I marveled at the resilience of the Hyde girls who had come to the “Daughters’ Circle.” As I pondered their fate, I concluded the real measure of Fenty’s effectiveness won’t be primarily in technological advancements or reductions in the cost of government, but rather what he does to help these girls heal and succeed.
Jonetta Rose Barras is the political analyst for WAMU radio’s D.C. “Politics Hour with Kojo and Jonetta.”
