Goons Be Lurkin'

In one week I've had higher highs and lower lows than any other time in the woods. Monday night, my girls had just returned from their visit home, and they were acting a little... off. Every time we went into community*(1), my girls would make a big scene and made Blood references any time a particular group was near**(2). Two girls were leading the pack-- Annitta and Hallie*(3).

Annitta was secretly my favorite girl in the beginning-- the one who told me I was her inspiration/role model. She was charged for armed robbery in a gang initiation back in November, and yet admitted that she didn't want to live that life anymore and wanted my help. She had been focused on making change at camp up until two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago Hallie came to camp. She reminds me of all the popular girls I knew in middle school who burned out too soon. On her initial visit, she was screaming and crying that she'll never come to this stupid camp. But when she did, the first person she befriended was Annitta. Almost as soon as this happened, I noticed a turn for the worst in my entire group.

When my girls came back from their visit home, I noticed a group of around 8 of them were calling themselves goons*(4). From Tuesday afternoon until Thursday, the 7 ran "out of bounds" together a number of times... and every time right before they did, like clockwork, they'd say "my goons be luuurkinnnn..." and then they'd run. Sometimes I'd be able to chase them (if I had another chief with me), other times I'd have no choice but to just call in on my radio and hope that somebody else would be available to deal with it. The girls that were being caught and restrained were fighting back more than usual-- hitting/biting me and grabbing at my hair. When they were all brought back to campsite, I tried to supervise carefully by standing in their tents, but found myself having things thrown at me and people physically trying to push me out. I expressed to my supervisor, "My girls have gone CRAZY. I seriously think they're on something."  She, a seasoned veteran who had been in the woods for as long as I'd been alive, told me with a raised eyebrow that they must have smuggled in contraband.  I didn't put the two together... but sure enough...

Wednesday morning, one of my slower functioning campers came up to me and said "Chief Mandy! Do you know where Hallie and Annitta got those smarties?? OMG they puttin smarties up they nose in the bathroom!!"  

I called an "underground huddle" (*8) and was told by another campter that Hallie had smuggled in what she claimed were "smarties" that she was crushing and sniffing in the bathroom, along with makeup and cigarettes that she stuffed in tampon applicators (and then resealed the container with glue!). On top of that, Hallie and Annitta both had smuggled in cell phones...

The "snitch" led my supervisor to where Annitta and Hallie had buried their phones. The other girls were livid, and were ready to beat her ass for snitchin, so when she came back, I told her to go to my tent. After she went in, I blocked the entrance with my body while three girls charged to get past me. At first I shifted to block Annitta with my left arm, then Hallie with my right arm and leg, but when Judy rushed me I fell to the ground face first with my chin and stomach to the rocks while the others walked over me. Hallie and Annitta stood hovering and screaming over a terrified and balled-up Kathleen in the brief moment I was on the ground,  but then stormed out when I got up.

Watching the girls unsettled behavior, I knew that the cell phones, the "smarties", the violent threats and Blood references were only small pieces to a larger puzzle. It killed my nerves, and I don't think I slept more than 4 hours that whole week. I read that after having children, mothers have a hard time sleeping and are more likely to suffer from insomnia, and I'm starting to understand why that is. It's not as stressful when I have a co-chief, but when I'm the only chief in group, I feel as though I can't ever let my guard down or allow myself to think of anything but their safety, because if I make one mistake they could be put in danger.

And I learned the truth to this perception on Thursday morning. I had been watching them like a hawk, but on our way to meet with a teacher, I accidentally left the med bag and my radio behind*(5). I didn't want the girls to know that I didn't have the radio (because they could easily take advantage of that and run immediately), so I whispered my predicament to the teacher, and left her with my group while I told them that I just needed to take a girl to the bathroom. Once we returned, the girls were gone. Four of them had left, and nobody was following them.

Throughout the day I sat with the remaining girls trying to get bits and pieces of information-- descriptions of the clothes they had on as well as descriptions of the clothes they wore under their camp clothes (because if they made it off property, they wouldn't want be mistaken as kids from the wilderness camp and would strip to something else). Everybody had their radio on, teachers, nurses, spouses and even dogs were combing through the woods and circling nearby highways trying to find these girls. The police stations in Montgomery county were alerted and actively searching. Wal Marts in the area were being shut down for the day because of gang initiations that were to take place (which usually involve shooting innocent people... I later found out that my girls had made a stop at Wal-Mart on their escape...) The girls that left weren't messing around.   Ten long hours passed, and I was terrified of what might become of the four. 

Tha Crossroads

While four of my girls were missing, of the 8 goons there were four that chose to stay behind. One of which was Rhonda. She's a big girl with an intimidating stature, and is a girl of few words... because the words she does say aren't taken lightly by anyone. She's my greatest ally, and always supports my decisions and helps enforce it with the girls. It seems that the kids who really are in gangs are the most well-behaved, because they are just doing their time so they can get back to work.

For the past month or so, after I've put the other girls down for bed, I've been sitting by her bed talking with her every other night about her past and where she wants to go in the future. It took her time to open up to me and describe how she doesn't have much of a family anymore due to gang-related violence. Many of her family members shot and killed-- her own brother was shot in front of her eyes. She wasn't "blessed" into the gang... she was banged in*(6). Her mom lives in Atlanta and is still doing drugs. When she told me all this, she finally burst into tears and said I just wanna be my momma's little girl again. I sat and cried with her (though it was dark, so nobody saw) with my arm around her still and silent.

When I asked her what she was going to do once she got out of camp, she said she didn't know... and that she can't see herself living outside of the gang because they're the only "family" she's got. I asked her, "what about Brittany?" who is her 2 year old niece... and she replied "well, the same thing that happened to me is gonna happen to her too... ain't nothin I can do about that."

Even as stubborn as she pretends to be about changing, I can tell part of her is soft and looking for another way. She's been writing poems that speak against hate and violence but also express a hopelessness as though they are inevitable parts of her life. One night, she handed me a piece of paper and asked me to burn it in "pow-wow"* (7). It was crumpled up and didn't burn all the way through, so when I opened it after she had gone to bed, it read

"John Smith*(3)
3-09-08
RIP
Wrong place at the wrong time"

Because she's used to gang culture, she's a vault when it comes to taking the blame and holding information. When it came to making gang calls in community, Rhonda took the blame when I knew it was Annitta's voice I heard. Then, when the group was addressed for having "white powder", Hallie and Annitta were quick to say that Rhonda brought it, and Rhonda assertively claimed that it was hers. I called their bluff, and said to Hallie, "how dare you put that on her, and try to put it past me like I'm stupid," and then told Rhonda how disappointed I was that she would jeopardize all the growth that she'd been making for another girl's mistake. Its been so frustrating to see so much potential for Rhonda, but that she refuses to see this in herself. While the girls were gone, I gave her a good "talkin'-to" about this, while she sat silently without making eye contact (as she usually does when she's actually listening).

When the four girls returned late Thursday night, I was expecting for them to come in bragging about their escape with cocky attitudes... and to go right back to bullying the rest of the group. My expectations were correct, but they didn't just step right back into their positions of power. Rhonda spoke up and let them have it. She stood up for the girls that "snitched" and spoke against the goons that ran-- telling them "it's not funny, it's not cool, and you're playin' with your life".

When I see change in my girls, it's never when they accept and do the things that I tell them, but when they can teach other girls how to overcome the things I've talked about with them. And it's in these moment that I am changed. I am moved, and I am fulfilled by this continuation of experience, of knowledge, of love... and what feels like a continuation of life itself. Dear GOD, this is what living is about...



_________________________________________________*(1)community-the central area where all groups meet to eat meals
*(2)Groups aren't supposed to communicate with other groups for several reasons-- a big one being because of gang affiliations and the danger of gang activity taking place at camp
*(3)names changed for HIPAA
*(4)goon- nick-name for a low-ranking Blood member. They're the ones doing the dirty work-- carrying out hits and dealing drugs, so that the higher-ups can be safe of prosecution. They're usually under 18 so that they can avoid doing time as an adult.
*(5)chiefs carry this with us everywhere. med bag is essential for emergencies... but in my case the radio was absolutely essential in case any of my girls were to try to run out of bounds and I couldn't follow them
*(6)getting" blessed" into a gang is sometimes granted to a sister of a high ranking male, but getting "banged" in means the female is initiated by having (most often unprotected) sex with numerous members of the gang
*(7) pow-wow is where we evaluate our day individually and as a group... and reflect on our lives in and out of camp
*(8) an underground huddle is something I would call if I knew they were keeping a secret from me or being dishonest, and they would be granted immunity from punishment if they owned up to it without being prompted