Lady

I’ve learned the most from those who are young and naive. In particular, one of the most influential people in my life was a little girl whose name I will protect by referring to her as Lady.

I met Lady when she was seven years old. In some ways, she was a pain in the neck. She was one of the few people who could bring out my impatience. She didn’t listen to a word I said, deciding she was going to do whatever she wanted without a care in the world. About two whole days passed of the five that we spent together before I discovered the unbelievable beauty in her.

The environment Lady grew up in is one that I never have been, nor ever will be, accustomed to. Growing up with negligent parents leads most children to have the same unfortunate adult lives as the rest of their family. I worry about Lady’s siblings, E, X and J. I worry that they will grow up and become their generation’s versions of their parents. I don’t worry about that with Lady; I know her personality is too strong to be broken.

Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Lady and worry about how she’s doing. I pray that there are people in her life at home and school who care about her as much as the summer camp staff did, particularly Nina and me. I pray that she gets the attention she needs to prosper. There is nothing wrong with her, but so much wrong with society.

People from afar, who didn’t know Lady the way we did, thought she was a bad kid. They congratulated us when we told them that Lady was going home, while Nina and I were heartbroken. What others didn’t understand was that Lady’s inappropriate behavior was not intentionally deviant; she didn’t understand why her behavior was “wrong”. Summer camp was an incredible open space for her where she felt free, so she took full advantage of it and got frustrated when people tried to hold her back from exploring. But I know she didn’t mean to cause problems by the way she looked at me when I told her she was misbehaving; she didn’t want to disappoint me, she just didn’t know the rules that most people assume are obvious. She didn’t understand why we had to do structured activities with the other kids when all she wanted to do was play freely.

I eventually figured out that explaining these things to her was unnecessary, because her carefree personality was beautiful. As soon as she saw me smile about something she had done, she was the happiest kid I’ve ever seen. She found joy in so many of the things that I took for granted, like tetherball and crafts. She appreciated me and looked up to me more than any other camper has, and she gave me the best hugs of my life. She was the happiest person I’ve ever met, even though she came from an underprivileged background.

I will never forget holding her hand and listening to her gush about “Mommy” as I walked her to her parents’ car, and when she let go and ran to her mother. It was a beautiful moment, seeing how happy she was to see Mommy, without the slightest idea of why she was here early.

But her mother’s reaction is the part I remember most vividly, the part that haunts me daily. She looked at Lady and said, “what the Hell did you do?” Lady’s face changed from a huge smile to a look of shame in less than a second. Mommy pointed at Lady’s shoes and said “whose are those? You can’t steal things. Those aren’t yours! Give them back!” Nina had found her some sandals to wear, since Lady only had one pair of sneakers, and no other shoes. I insisted that Lady keep the shoes, saying that “she needs a pair of sandals”. Mommy asked where her sneakers were, and I realized that we had forgotten to pack them. I ran to the cabin as quickly as possible, found her sneakers on the porch, and ran back to the car, my heart pounding. By then Mommy had already put Lady and E in the back seat of the car; E was being sent home too. “I’m sorry they gave you so much trouble this week,” Mommy said to me. “My kids are too much to handle, they’re all so damn naughty! The boys are doing ok?” she asked. My director Katie lied and told her that the boys were behaving. They certainly were not behaving, but they weren’t a hazard to the other kids at camp either, so we wanted them to stay.

I looked at Lady in the back seat of the car as Mommy told her to apologize for ruining my week. Lady looked at me, with the saddest eyes I had seen on her yet, muttering “I’m sorry” quietly. I tried to explain to her that it was ok, and that I was so happy that she was able to be with us for a little while, and that I was sorry that she had to go home. Mommy’s boyfriend thanked me, finally speaking after silently observing this whole event. I told Lady I loved her as her mother rolled up the car window and pulled out.

As soon as the car was out of sight, I broke down. Sending Lady home with those people was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I spent the next hour or two telling Nina about them, since she was with the rest of the kids during all of it. I told her all about the car’s Betty Boop seat cushions and cigarette smell, and about the mother’s cheetah print bra under her see-through tank top which her belly hung out of. I sobbed as I tried to figure out something we could do for Lady. Without evidence of any sort of child abuse, calling Child Protective Services wasn’t an option. Now, three months later, I’ve finally accepted that I did everything I could. I remember her asking me why I was being nice to her, and I was so shocked that I didn’t have a response. I gave her five days of freedom and love.