Saturday, May 19, 2007

Children are Crying, Children are Dying

Written by Isabelle Zehnder

These are stories of children who died at the hands
of those who were supposed to be there to care for
them. Each had been either in a Therapeutic Boarding
School, Residential Treatment Facility, or a Wilderness
Program. Each of these children should still be alive
today, had the staff in these places been doing their
job, had they been qualified to work with children,
and had they received proper training.

Children's worst nightmares are coming true
They’re being taken from the lives they knew
Taken from their beds in the middle of the night
Restrained, their eyes burning, they cannot fight
Their parents, convinced it’s what they had to do
Hired kidnappers, but they had no clue
The moment their babies left the safety of bed
The final countdown began, and soon they’d be dead.

They forced me to run, but I was weak
They forced me to run, I couldn’t speak
I pleaded for help ‘cause I was ill
I wanted to live, that was my will
They refused me water when I was thirsty
I asked for a doctor, they would not take me
I asked to go home, they would not let me
I thought these people were here to help me
I tried so hard just to survive
But that night I could no longer stay alive
There was no phone, there was no radio
So far from anywhere, that nobody could know
The others built fires, a rescue plane flew by
But the other kids explained that I had already died
Twenty-two hours on a lonely, dirt road
A tarp over my body as the wind echoed
My best friend was there and heard my cries
My best friend was there, she watched me die
Those kids in the dessert were forced to stay
Even after they saw me die that day
My mom, she's a fighter, and she wants you to know
What can happen to your babies when you let them go
My best friend and I were as close as we could be
And she named her baby girl in memory of me

I held out my cup, they wouldn’t fill it
I cried out for help, they wouldn’t give it
I was so hungry, could they not see?
All they gave me was some pine-needle tea
For breakfast I foraged for prickly-pear cactus
For me, there in the hills, there was no solace
They forced me to hike when I was weak
There came a point I could no longer speak
If mom and dad had known what I would face
They would never have sent me to this place
No blanket, or a sleeping bag at night
Laying in the night air, at 25 Fahrenheit
They called me a liar, they ridiculed me
They said I was faking for some sympathy
The sky looked purple I saw lights flashing
The next thing I knew my body was thrashing
I lost the fight for my life that day
How many more children must die this way?

I was only sixteen, just bein’ a kid
Laughin’ and talkin’, that’s all I did
They yelled, “Shut up, quit talking, get out of your tent”
Much as I tried they wouldn't relent
They grabbed me hard in the dark of the night
Three very large men, they held me tight
They grabbed me, and we fell to the ground
Three grown men on top of me, that’s how I was found
I pleaded and cried "I cannot breathe"
But they just wouldn’t listen to my pleas
I cried, I wanted to see my mom and dad
They just wouldn't listen, they were so mad
I prayed “Dear God, get them off of me”
I knew in my heart it was my last plea
Those three men sat on my back that night
Under three men, suffocated, I lost the fight

I knew taking grandma's car was bad
I never knew it would make them so mad
I was only there a very short time
When six men grabbed me, pulled me out of line
I just got there, it was only my first day
I didn’t understand why they were treating me this way?
They mocked me, they shoved me
They pushed me, they beat me
Just when I thought that I might die
I saw a lady out of the corner of my eye
I thought, “Dear God, she's here to save me”
But she stood there, hands on hips, and let them berate me
They were so big and I was small
I knew that I had no chance at all
No matter how I cried
They did not stop until I died
They beat me until that final blow
At least it was caught on video
I know one thing, I didn't deserve to die
I just wanted to see my mama one last time

It was a cold day in February
All I wanted was to wear my hoody
They yelled at me, said “It’s forbidden”
They made me feel like I was in prison
They grabbed me hard and took it away
I had no idea this would be my last day
Before I knew it we were all on the ground
They sat on me so I couldn't make a sound
I tried to tell them I could not breathe
They would not listen to my pleas
They pushed down on my neck so hard
And left my body full of scars
My body went completely numb
I knew the end had finally come
Mama, I would like to say
I didn’t want to die that way

We do not want to have suffered the pain
Only to have died in vain
Please be our voices, we can no longer speak
Though we know it’s hard, please don’t be weak
Our souls are crying out to you
Just how much are you willing to do?

Though we're in a better place
We don’t want others to have to face
The abuse, the neglect, the crying
We do not want more children dying

1 comment:

jenikati said...

It is unbelievable to me that these things keep on happening. have yous seen all of the deaths on the www.caica.org website? All in residential treatment settings? When will this all stop?

JeniKati