Unconventional love and healing

Crediting David C. Turner III Original Post for the format and 95 percent of the rhetoric and style for this post.

“I wish I can tell you the type of things that [clients] experience, the trauma that they have from schools, home, [sexual assault and exploitation] and just the world.

I wish we had a better language to articulate this trauma, because this trauma is the reason(s) why they become who they are, and they cause so much harm.”

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color, the ones that dont “talk nice” and get sent to jail by their mommas for reminding them of themselves.

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color, the ones born in the wrong body and get made fun of for being transgender.

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color, the ones who dress in a way that society deems provocative and dont really talk too much because of all the things they’ve seen.

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color, the ones who fight all the time because thats all they know how to do in order to make it to the next day, alive.

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color, the ones that dont cross their legs and bat their eyes and zip their lips.

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color, to ask them what they want instead of making decisions for them, putting them on the assembly line of the system and watching them fall through the cracks.

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color to talk about their experiences being molested and assaulted and exploited and abused by family friends and strangers.

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color to be asked what they need instead of punished for boosting sandwiches and working the streets to pay their parents rent or feed their siblings.

I wish it was acceptable for people to embrace girls of color to yell and scream and cry and not be okay, to ask for hugs and trust and shoulders to cry on.

Its funny how we talk about all lives mattering, but these girls still get thrown away. By everyone. They’re called prostitutes and delinquents. Its funny how we talk about collaborative justice, but these girls still end up being disposable and forgotten. It’s funny how we talk about feminism, because no one talks about sexual exploitation of young women of color who come from marginalized communities in a racist classist and capitalist society. It’s funny how we talk about decriminalization but all my clients have been in the juvenile hall at least once this year.

“Im here for the bad ass [girls.]
Im here for the ones that fight all the time.
Im here for the ones with a bad attitude.”
Im here for the ones who cuss me out but ask me to come see them again.
I’m here for the ones who have trouble completing probation and end up back in juvenile hall.
I’m here for the ones who call me in the middle of the night
I’m here for the ones who’ve been let down.
I’m here for the ones who are mad as hell because damn well they should be.
I’m here for the ones who have a hard time letting people in.
I’m here for the unconventional love and healing
“Im here for the ones that show love by telling you their darkest secrets and pain

Im here for them.

because someone has to be.”

And I’ll be here when they need me and when they don’t. And that shit matters. I swear it matters.

Arieana

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