On some days, the toll of the work catches up with me… I woke up this morning feeling soul-weary.

In just the past 10 weeks, two young people who I have worked with have been re-arrested. Both are facing charges of selling drugs and will likely spend time in prison. I know that many don’t want to hear it but this was inevitable. Both young men are now in their early 20s and have no jobs. I don’t know how they are expected to make a living; to survive. The street economy is the only viable path. This is simply the truth.

I finally had an opportunity to visit with one of the young men at Cook County jail on Thursday morning. I plastered a smile on my face when he came out to meet me. I knew that he was feeling depressed. His grandmother told me about this before I went to the jail. When he sat down, he didn’t look at me. His head was bent. In almost a whisper, he said: “Sorry I let you down Ms. K. Sorry…”

I said nothing for what might have seemed like two minutes. I finally responded: “You didn’t let me down. I’m sorry that we’ve all let you down.” He looked up and he had tears running down his face. He started furiously wiping them away. We just sat quietly for a few minutes. I told him that I would stop by to see his grandmother and bring her news of how he was. What did he want me to convey to her? I asked.

“Tell her that it was all me.”

I am dragging today. I find that I am questioning myself more and more. What am I doing? It feels like I am putting band-aids on gaping wounds. There is an entire generation of young people, mostly of color and all poor, that is basically disposable in this capitalist system. I am confronted with the wreckage from this ongoing hurricane. Today I am struggling to hold on to some hope. These days happen.

“Tell her that it was all me.”

These words replay in my mind like a mantra. The truth is that the young man is wrong. It was not all him. We have all failed this young man and hundreds of thousands like him. No it was not all him. He attended schools where his teachers barely taught; lived with 8 other people in a two-bedroom apartment; he has been profiled and mistreated by the police since he was 8 years old. No it was not all him.

I am feeling depleted today so I turned to a quote that was shared by a friend who I consider to be one of the best and most ethical youth workers on the planet:

“It is part of our task as revolutionary people, people who want deep-rooted, radical change, to be as whole as it is possible for us to be. This can only be done if we face the reality of what oppression really means in our lives, not as abstract systems subject to analysis, but as an avalanche of traumas leaving a wake of devastation in the lives of real people who nevertheless remain human, unquenchable, complex and full of possibility.” Aurora Levins Morales, Medicine Stories

Today, I struggle to maintain my wholeness in the face of brutalizing systemic oppression. I remain committed to embracing the humanity of the traumatized and profoundly human people who I share space with on earth.

“Tell her that it was all me.”

No sweetheart, I won’t tell her that because it simply isn’t true. I’ll tell her that it is all of us.