Robert Hart on the Merciful Kindness of Disapproval
For years, my work in Baltimore sent me to the poorest of the poor. The families I saw were not families at all, but single women with pathetic bastard sons and daughters by various fathers, none of whom were going to be brought up with the love and protection all children need. Early on, their childhood would be stolen and their innocence destroyed, making it impossible to grow up, only to grow old.
I have written before about the strippers on Baltimore’s glamorized “Block.” The ones I was sent to help were mostly heroin addicts, many diagnosed with AIDS, and dancing only to pay for their habit in . . .