A week or so ago, on a fine autumn afternoon, I was enjoying a beer with friends outside my favorite local watering hole. It was sunny and crisp, but not cold, and other regulars were sitting outside as well. It was about five o’clock and the market that houses the bar was hopping; lots of people buying vegetables, meats, things for dinner. So, I didn’t notice the group of kids that were walking toward us.
Another friend was enjoying a plate of oysters with another man at the table next to us. Joe’s phone was on the table next to the plate of what looked like Chincoteagues. Suddenly, one of the kids grabbed the phone and took off. Joe’s friend managed to grab one of the kids by the shirt and held on to him. Joe, yelled “Stop!”, and one of the boys, a big guy in a white t-shirt, stopped and turned around. The boy said, “I’ll pop you!” and danced around a bit with his fists up. He looked ridiculous. Joe approached and the boy swung. He either missed or hit a glancing blow, Joe wasn’t sure when we talked afterward. Then the kid took off after his friends.
I stood sort of helplessly. I felt like I could have done something but it all happened in the space of 10 or 15 seconds.
Joe asked me to call the police. I did that while Joe’s friend, still holding the kid, was yelling “Who are you? Where do you live? The police are coming, do you know that?”
In a few moments, the security guard for the market arrived. He made the kid sit in a chair while he, Joe and the other man surrounded him. The security guard: “Do you have ID?”
The kid: “You’re not a cop; let’s see your ID.”
In a little while the police showed up: “What’s your name?”
Silence.
“How old are you?”
“14.”.
“What’s your name?”
Silence.
The cop: “Talk. Don’t talk. I don’t give a shit. Who are your friends? Do you want to go to jail by yourself?”
“I don’t know them. I was by myself.”
Eventually, the police handcuffed him and took him away.
Reflecting on this incident, I’m struck by how calm the kid was. I wasn’t even involved and my heart was racing a bit. The kid had on nice clothes, and his hair was neatly braided. I could just picture a loving mother making sure he was ‘just so’ before he left for school that morning.
My feeling is that one of the kids grabbed the phone on a whim and the kid who got caught wasn’t expecting it and, so, was slow to run. At the same time, his demeanor was such that you could tell he’d talked with the police before. He was more annoyed than fearful; more irritated than troubled. He was well spoken when he did say something. It was sad.
I keep thinking about that kid. You could tell that he wasn’t neglected. His clothes and hair were testament to an at least adequate home life. But, he was fourteen. And, he’d been in trouble before (it seemed). I couldn’t help but think that he is destined to get caught again, as an adult, and would be sentenced to some significant jail time.
Talking with another friend about this, he pointed out that “we didn’t do stuff like that when we were kids!” So, the assumption his that he wasn’t raised right. I don’t think that that’s this particular kid’s story. I think that he has friends that are prone to doing stupid things; perhaps they’re the ones who weren’t raised right. Perhaps the kid’s parents are sympathetic to the excuses the kid will make after he is released to their custody. That doesn’t make them bad parents; lots of parents excuse lots of things their kids do for what are actually uncompelling reasons.
I realize that I’ve romanticized this kid a bit; for all I really know, he’s a sociopathic young man who will be an adult criminal. But I’m sure there are some kids, that are very like the kid I’ve described. And, those kids, at least some of them, despite their parents’ best efforts, will one day live behind bars.
We tend to look at problems and ascribe simple solutions. If a kid breaks the law, he wasn’t raised right. If people are poor, they’ve made bad choices. It’s just sad to feel like poor parenting, bad choices of friends, societal prejudices, and other things combine to make at least some tragic outcomes, inevitable.