Have we no Shame - Help me Live not Die!
A week ago the Citizen’s Saturday Report
reads; “Mean Streets” “Desperate teenagers, many fighting drug
addictions, are busy selling their bodies for money. It was about a
year ago attending a conference I watched “Through a
Blue Lens”, a painful film to watch that deals with the complete
degradation of the life of addicts in Vancouver downtown East Side.
Statistics tell us that of the 16,000 addicts; about 6,000 are
addicted to intravenous drug use. And with those numbers comes a
darker statistic as well: with an HIV infection rate as high as 50
percent among the area's intravenous drug users, according to the
police, the Downtown Eastside had the highest rate in the developed
world in 1997. “Through a Blue Lens” was produced by 5 Vancouver
City Policemen called the Odd Squad, of which a full report can be
found
www.oddsquad.com . During
the course of this project there is a quote; “On
the beat, little has changed over the course of the project. Carlee
remains in her one-room flop, drug paraphernalia scattered about.
Michelle, 26, whom Hinton has known from the street since she was
14, is headed for rehab, but she has been there before, only to
return to dealing and prostitution to support her habit. For these
people, the police know there is little hope, Hinton says. Where
hope lies, he says, is in using their experience as an example”
“Little Hope, using their experience as an
example?” Having seen this film and reading the Saturday Report,
anger rises inside me. What do you mean little hope, to be used as
an example? Are you going to leave me to die? I have seen all of
the hurt and pain that can be imagined. Yes there are many desperate
teenagers, fighting drug addiction in our city as in any other city.
At times I am haunted by the memory of one young girl after having
slashed her wrists say, “I don’t
want to die, I just want to be loved”. To allow myself to
deal with these issues at times I would write a graphic poem, based
on the story of this young girl I wrote “Terror
and Tears”. It was at time like that I cried out in
disgust, what are we doing, have we no shame? What about these
children, are we going to let them die on the streets? Saturday
Report in the last paragraph says; “average life expectancy for a
woman entering the sex trade is seven years”. What are we doing? We
open a needle exchange and say come, we will give you clean needles
so that you won’t die of Hepatitis or HIV or some other horrendous
disease, but you will still fry your brain – pardon me for these
harsh words. But is that not what is taking place? Good decision
making all but gone, beautiful young women who just want to be loved
are probably going to die within seven years. Give me a break you
say, we have a lot of programs in place to help them. Re-read the
quote above – little hope, to be used as an example. Now what I am
going to say will fly in the face of all civil libertarians and
those who hold that view. Under the mental health act and I quote;
“A police officer or constable may apprehend and immediately take a
person to a physician for examination if satisfied from personal
observations, or information received, that the person is acting in
a manner likely to endanger that person's own safety or the safety
of others” For example if a suicidal person is standing on the
bridge ready to jump, we pull out all emergency resources to save
that person from themselves. That person can by several Doctors be
committed to receive help. Why on earth do we allow these drug
addicted teenagers, who can no longer make healthy choices, leave
them to die on our streets. Yes I will go on record to say that we
forcefully confine those who are so vulnerable and often just want
to be loved. No, not in prison or a psychiatric ward, but set up
beautiful rehabilitation camps with all of the counseling, skills
training etc.. to give each special person back their dignity in a
loving environment. The cost is not even a question, it can be done.
Please
Help Me Live not Die!
Yes! This is a very drastic
position to take, forceful confinement.
If you have thoughts on this subject, please email
tony@doorsofhope.com
I want to Live Not Die
God - The voices of your children cry out
In the shadows of the street pacing waiting
Memories of earlier life are haunting
Too painful to dwell on long
Who am I - once I knew love
So long ago it seems
Today I am used by those who seek pleasure
Just my body, my mind is not there
My mind wanders, Mom Dad are you there
To earlier days
Who will rescue me
Please don’t let me die
I do not speak
They say it is too late for them
I allow this to take place
I don’t want to hear
Deep down I hear their cries
Forgive me
The pain is deep
Too late
Please don’t let me die
t.r
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Thursday October 16, 2008 -
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