China's Reality

A snapshot in time based on people worked with and events probation officers have experienced on the job.

China stared at me from across the small desk in the interview room. Her hair was a ratted mess of tangles, dirt and sweat. She leaned back in the chair, her small frame hanging off the seat as she stretched her legs, cloaked in the orange Juvenile Hall pants, under the table that separated us. She was still coming off the opiates and meth she had smoked for the past couple of weeks. Her young face was stretched across her skull, cheek bones jutting out, as she unconsciously ground her teeth together. 

I barely recognized her. She looked nothing like the smiling 13-year-old in the file that lay on the table in front of me. It had only been hours since I had helped drag her out of the filthy tent she had been hiding in, naked and unaware of the world around her. 

What the hell was I going to do with her? I thought as I stared at the abused child who sat in front of me. There was a side of me, the callus, worn self that just wanted to say, who cares, but, the side that had made me decide to be a probation officer couldn’t just let her go. Empathy and sadness settled over me.

“Why’d you run China?” I asked, breaking the silence that had filled the room.

She shrugged, not opening her eyes to look at me.

I sighed. It usually came own to this silence and shoulder shrugs when she was coming back to reality. By tomorrow her bravado and attempts to push back against any form of help would return. Her desire to prove that no one cared and that she was not worthy of being cared for would thicken like concrete around her and make reaching her an almost impossibility.

There were moments when she put her guard down and acted like the vulnerable girl she was, in age if not life experience. It was then that her playful, innocent self came forward and the happy person she might have been would peek out and smile at the world. But that person would be quickly drawn back into the castle and like Rapunzel, not be reachable due to the high and impenetrable walls that surrounded her. The world had too often proven its unworthiness to her as a child and her current actions made certain that her perceptions were always true.

No one wanted to deal with her any longer. Those that tried to care quickly gave up as she verbally, and sometimes physically, pushed them away. She knew she was worthless and she was going to make sure everyone else knew as well. She leaned into that truth as far as she could. I shook my head as I contemplated all of this. “It’s not going to work China. Not going anywhere and you aren’t either,” I said, leaning back in my chair emulating the girl across from me.

I saw her peek out from her half closed eyes. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Why?” The word seemed to slip out as she opened her eyes in surprise and then shook her head as she closed them again.

I sat up and tried to put a foot into the slight opening she had just provided. “Because you’re worth it, China. I just need you to let me, and everyone else, help.”

There was an expectant silence that hung in the cinderblock room, as if maybe, maybe, she would believe me. I held on, hoping, afraid to push more and startle her back into the undergrowth.

She looked at me and shrugged, then shook her head and said, “Dunno,” once more closing her eyes.

I nodded, sitting back into my chair, not wanting to push her too hard or quickly. “Who were you staying with this time?” I leaned forward, “Who did this to you? It’s not right and not fair to you. You deserve better from people.”

She opened her eyes and stared at me. Silence hugged the room. I had long ago learned that just sitting in that silence, uncomfortable as it was, sometimes led to something. So, I sat, staring at her lined and worn face.

After a few minutes she sighed, rubbing her eyes with her closed fists like the child she was.

“It’s not that bad,” she said, her voice a whisper in the room. “Been worse. I was high most of the time.”

I nodded, making sure to keep my face neutral and not react to the admission and horridness of the statement. I thought of my own daughters who were close in age, but so much younger in life disappointment and trauma. How could anyone just abandon their child to this experience? Who could look at the innocence of childhood and not want to protect and nurture it? Just allow it to be warped and injured to the point that all innocence and hope was flushed into the sewer of life.

I nodded and sat back. “I hear you, it could've been worse, but it not right China, you deserve better.”

The girl looked away, her eyes unfocused. She nodded, a subtle up and down.

“Let me do something for you then,” I said, my voice soft, trying hard to keep her open to the moment. Silence once more filled the small room. A pressure falling over us, expectation and hope, mixed with despair. “Let me get at the people who mistreated you. I want to do that, it’s the least I can do. But, I gotta have your help to do it.”

China stared at me, her arms crossed tightly against her body. I could see her eyes watering, her lower lip trembling as she fought with herself. She looked down at her legs, sniffled, then quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her arm.

“Maybe, maybe,” She whispered to herself. Her head signaling, no, with a small sideways motions.

I knew this was the moment, she would either provide the information or revert back to her hardened shell. I struggled with myself, wanting to push her, but knowing from experience that to do so would only close up this small crack in her shell.

China shifted in her chair, then pulled her legs in and leaned onto the small table between us, elbows on the table top, her head held by her hands. She kept looking down as she mumbled, “They care about me when no one else does.”

“Maybe,” I said, keeping the tone in my voice as nonjudgmental as I could, while knowing full well they only cared as far as she could make them a dollar. “Maybe there are other people who can care and keep you safe at the same time.”

I knew this statement was only partly true. While people did want to help, there was really no one who could, or would, put up with the angry, injured girl who sat in front of me. It would take someone willing to care without expectation and an understanding that their caring may never be reciprocated. I’d yet to meet anyone really willing to do that for someone like her.

A slight nod indicated she understood what I’d just told her. After a moment she whispered, “Flacco and Skye.” She looked up sharply after the words slipped out, fear and hoped mixed on her face.

I nodded, giving her a small smile. “Okay, that‘s a start. You got real names?”

She leaned back and closed her eyes, shaking her head. She crossed her arms over her chest, shutting me out, retreating back into herself. “I’m tired,” she mumbled.

I sat back as well, knowing it was all I would get out of her for now. At least is was a start. She’d let herself trust for a moment. 

“Okay, thanks,`” I said after a moment of silence. I stood up and opened the door behind me. “I’ll come see you again soon and we can talk more.”

She nodded, not opening her eyes.

As I left the room I looked back at her. Her small form swallowed inside the oversized outfit. I wondered for a moment what her future would hold. While I hoped for the best, I knew the reality was likely much bleaker then she deserved. Shutting the door behind me I went to find the institution officer to take her back to her room and her current reality.