Friday morning, I found myself sitting at a table with three women I did not know, in a room full of women. There were less than five men scattered around, and when I asked at the front sign-in table, the woman who was volunteering told me that of the 53 at the earlier seating of Breakfast for the Babies, seven were men. While waiting in the buffet line, I heard a woman introduce herself as a State Senator. As I walked back to my table with a plate of food, I heard another woman say she was a freelance artist, another a retired high school teacher. At my table, the woman to my left talked about returning from a trip, and making plans to babyproof her house for grandchildren that would be visiting over the holidays.
"We haven't been home for Christmas in years. We always go on a trip. So now I have to drag out the decorations, and I need at least two pack-n-plays."
I sat, sipping tea, staring into my book, occasionally staring out the window at the 360 degree view of Indianapolis, wondering what I was doing here. Then the executive director of Project Home Indy stood up to speak.
"Stories. (Pause, smiling at the audience). We all have stories."
And I knew why I was there: to tell their story.
Project Home Indy provides a safe residence for homeless pregnant teens and teen mothers. They help the mothers stay in school, make sure moms and babies get good medical care, and provide counseling. PHI is not a mansion. There is space only for 5 girls and their babies at any given time. And that may not seem like much, especially in a world where high numbers mean higher value.
"100 percent of our moms have experienced trauma. How else do you end up fifteen and pregnant?"
If all of the moms have experienced trauma, we can only guess at their stories. And despite the work of Project Home Indy, I never heard Laksmi talk about replacing those traumatic stories. You can't. The bad parts of life can't be censored out. I did hear her voice catch when she mentioned that some of us have bad stories. I saw her make a joke at her own expense, and pretend to wipe away the pain. I saw myself, remembered the therapist who suggested that it could be helpful to go back and talk to my inner child, tell her that it would be okay. This felt like a lie to me. No one, not even the stronger, somewhat healed adult version of the little girl I was, can tell me that it will be okay. Nothing we do will make it better for her.
Project Home Indy helps mothers heal, so their children have better stories.
I don't know how Sophie fared after her husband died, or how she took care of her family. I will never know how things turn out for Anna Karenina's children. How will they heal? How many of the 200 kidnapped Nigerian girls are already pregnant? Somehow, we have to break the cycle, change young girl's stories, rework them, write different endings, make things right for the next ones. It is the stories that have not yet been told that can change women's lives. They are our inner children, waiting for their lives to unfold.
http://www.projecthomeindy.org
Project Home Indy
P.O. Box 683
Indianapolis, Indiana 46206
Posted with Blogsy
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