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I grew up in a suburb where this other world was the problem - a world where at best we needed to ignore or build a gated community to keep our distance.
I saw the crimes committed from stories on television.
I learned to lock my doors in fear.
They were the enemy - the ones that made my world unsafe and uncomfortable.
What else was I to do? Thus begins the story of Luis Juan.
He was one of those young men I feared.
He was one of the young men who manipulated, stole, beat others, used guns, just to feel powerful.
He was a survivor of the streets moving in gangs to find meaning.
I was protected from his world.
I was safe if I just kept my doors locked if I stayed in the safety of my community.
September 2005 changed my life forever.
The world of violence, chaos, pain and poverty collided with mine and I have never been the same.
In his life I have found the liberation of my own soul.
The story of darkness has been transformed into a story of triumph and love.
I honor his spirit and his willingness to share his life with me.
My heart is grateful for his trust.
Life will never be the same.
And so the story begins.
Was it hopelessness in his voice-no place but the same unsafe environment of his family-no support or transition from prison life to society.
Luis moved into my home with his fiance Tasha and at the time two children with another one on the way for four months.
So began the journey I took with Tasha and Luis.
It was an unexpected call from a friend that old me she wanted me to meet them both.
Was I up for it? That same day on a beautiful end of a summer day or was it fall we sat on the deck looking out into the woods.
I still remember the sight of watching Luis walking through the tall grasses around my house on those early days looking for grasshoppers with his children trailing behind.
The intensity around the search was glorious to watch.
Life was at its best...
the moment was all they had.
The moment was all they needed for life to be beautiful and real.
Or on other days the chase was on as they ran through the house looking for dad.
The last good place was under a bed and as Nick walked by a hand reached out for his ankle.
What screams of fear and laughter as his hiding place had been discovered and Nick was proud to have found him.
It was fun to share my life with this family of four-sometimes five.
There was excitement in the exchange of new friendships.
A challenge in confronting the negative behavior that was prevalent in their relationship and the development of love and a trust between us all.
Alone and at night though I would lie in my bed wondering what I had done.
So many fears so many warnings from other, I doubted my own sanity.
Despair and tears filled my nights as I read and heard from Luis the life he had lived.
When he gave me the journals from his prison boot camp experience I could only read a little at a time.
It was incongruent with what I saw before me, a loveable caring young man.
Where was this "monster" that lurked within-the enemy to fear? All that I saw surrounding him was tremendous pain and a past that was tied into so many knots I didn't know where to begin.
I felt helpless at times when I was with Luis.
He needed so much more than I could give him.
How was he going to stop taking out loans? Why couldn't he organize his bag? Why did he take that money? Why did he watch those violent prison movies? How could I help him get more a sense of control? Did he have to stay in this craziness? Why? Why? Why? The only thing I knew for sure was that I would stay no matter what and these situations were small compared to the enormity of what he was learning.
I had to remember that meeting him where he was - was all I could do.
To wish he was somewhere else was pointless.
The enormity of his responsibilities was an almost an impossible situation for the creative and energetic person he was.
He was courageous, though, as he continued to find jobs that were unfulfilling and take the minimum salary.
On a snowy night November 25, 2006 Luis died on his way home from work.
This 14 hour drive in a company van was helping him pay off part of his loan he had taken out to pay for his year old son's birthday party.
I never knew the hard core Luis everyone talked about and that lived in the journals he shared with me.
All I knew was a man that wanted to do right for himself and the people around him.
He was a real person that cared deeply for his life.
And in those 15 months that I knew him he did the best he could.
I celebrate all that he is and has become.
For with insurmountable odds he had lived the life he always dreamed he could and though it was cut short he become somebody!! Suggestions I followed from Aaron Kipnis in his book Angry Young Men: Mentoring, befriending, god-parenting, or otherwise committing time and resources to just one fatherless or otherwise socially handicapped boy in your community has more power to save lives than any other social program.
Introduction to meditation and other healthy practices that helped mitigate the traumatic impact of drugs and abuse on the nervous system.
Spiritual experiences, alone and in community raised hope against the downward pull of the past.
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