Biking home today I saw a brownskinned young girl, maybe 15-16, soliciting tricks 6 blocks from my house.
I pulled over and asked her if she was okay because she was standing at a telephone pole and motioning at cars with her arm but there was no bus stop there. She didn't say anything so in typical New York fashion I kept talking and said I was just asking because there's no bus stop and she was motioning as if she wanted someone to stop. She said very softly, "I know there's no stop."
My friendly smile waned and my voice got serious, "I really, really hope that you're okay and safe."
I rode on two blocks then, out of her sight, turned around to see if she stayed there, which she did for about 10 seconds and then started walking off the main drag into the residential area where my house is. At home I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote my name and phone number on it, but I couldn't find her when I rode back out.
I know scenes like this happen everyday all around this fucking city full of johns. I know they happen 24-hours a day blocks away from my house at the most notorious prostitution strip in a city with three well-known "red light districts". I know it, and it still rips me apart to see one brownskinned teen girl flagging down would-be child rapists who don't think of themselves as child rapists.
So I'm crying and doing other useless drama queeny motions like writing this here post because I don't know what else to do. I'm doing everything I know how to do and it's not one millionth of enough to make a difference to that one girl. It's not enough and I can never be or do enough, but giving up is simply not an option so I'll raise my umbrella against the tsunami again and again and I'll get soaked wet again and again just like I always do.
"A heart that hurts is a heart that works" -Juliana Hatfield