The Concrete Jungle's Life Lessons
The concrete jungle was, without a doubt, an unusual place to live. There were rows and rows of brown apartment complexes in my ghetto neighborhood, and they led me into unknown passageways and broken doors. Curtains were made using a variety of linens and towels donated by Windows. My playtime consisted of the drab, gray, and icy streets around me. The back alleys were littered with decaying garbage and parking lots full with rusted-out autos. Hopelessness for my future was compounded by my upbringing in a poor, barbarous community No money, no encouragement, and no support were in place for me to pursue my talents in art, athleticism, and communication in any way.. Unhealthy families were the norm. Having been forgotten by society, I felt like I was living in a prison without steel bars. Freedom did eventually ring, and now that I'm an adult with only a camera's eye view of this gloomy area left, I've learnt some valuable lessons about life's journey thus far. When I moved to the concrete jungle, I felt an awful terror since there was no fatherly protection, no acceptance, and constant violence in the air around me.
A significant quantity of terror was always present in my life without my father's protection. When I was a baby, my parents divorced and my father went to another state. After school and all day in the summer, my sisters and I were left to fend for ourselves. It didn't matter if we had locked the doors, whether we were watching our favorite shows or listening to our favorite albums—I was still afraid. My neighborhood was frequented by a depraved individual dubbed "the rapist," and I was the unfortunate victim of his antics. The man was following me around like a dog. I yelled at the top of my lungs when I saw a man with his hands cupped around his face looking through my window on a Saturday afternoon when my mother was home. My mother phoned the authorities, but they never showed up. Complaints were filed at the police station. He was well-known to the police, but they couldn't bring him to justice since they didn't have enough proof. After I left the ghettos, I learned that he had been arrested for attempting to kidnap my friend's little sister.
Because I wore largely hand-me-downs, I not only had to deal with a lack of security but also a lack of social acceptance. I was going through the stages of puberty at the time. Suddenly, I was bothered by my appearance. A place where wealthy people congregated for "spiritual" guidance was shunned because I was poor. My mother began to take us there. My family treated me like a burden, and I never felt like a part of the group. After we relocated, my mother was no longer able to attend these harrowing meetings.
So it's understandable that the gang violence in the ghettos terrified me. You could see needle-pushers, pimps and foul-smelling inebriated people strolling like they had no bones to hold them up in that unholy location. The lingering scents of cigarette and marijuana smoke pervaded the apartments. Teenagers hung around on the streets, hoping to get high or find a friend to cuddle with. Violence, battles, rape, and robbery were the norm. I recall hearing gunfire outside my door a few times. It was only a few feet away from where I stood when an elderly woman was viciously raped in her basement apartment.
My days in the concrete jungle are long gone, but as a Christian adult, I can look back and see how the Lord has used those experiences to help mold and shape me into the person I have become. Human traffickers and abusers have made me more sensitive to the plight of others. Emotionally dysfunctional people fascinate me, and I've learned a lot about what motivates them to act in the ways they do, choices that can often lead to even more negative dysfunction, misery, and generational transmission. I've discovered methods for spiritual, emotional, and physical healing for those I've worked with. For the first time in my life, I've learnt to appreciate people of other races as well as my own family and the simple pleasures of life. At some point between my early twenties and now, I've been able to devote some time and money to pursuing my interests in order to use the gifts that God has bestowed upon me. When I was a kid, living in the concrete jungle taught me that there is hope for the future, that that hope is located in Jesus Christ, whom I can call on throughout the days of my life, and that He has become my ideal Heavenly Father.
