So many of the examples you share resonate. The average person, much less the average judge living in their privileged ivory tower, have no conception of what it is like in the trenches. I have occasionally encountered adopted children who came prepackaged with problems that were difficult to deal with and created strain for their adoptive families. But most of my experience has been with incarcerated youth. I have worked with the imprisoned for over 30 years, and yes it was with faith based programs that got the message of the gospels’ call to unconditional love right, not the perverted and grotesque caricature the Catholic justices on the Supreme Court seem so fond of imposing upon the rest of us.

About 25 years ago I spent a weekend in the youth facility at Lake Jackson Correctional Center outside of Houston, Texas. All the participants were teenage boys. Their stories were heartbreaking. Most of them grew up in no parent families. They did not know either their mother or father and no adult took responsibility for them. They just inhabited households where they were treated like feral cats or dogs. They could scrounge for whatever food scraps were lying around and do whatever they wanted. No one provided clothing. No one gave them guidance. No one encouraged them to go to school. Most of their homes were violent and drug ridden. Of course they needed a group to belong to and they found it on the streets with various gangs which ultimately led them to being imprisoned, and to me getting a chance to meet them. It was absolutely heartbreaking. They literally had no chance in life. Why they ended up the way they did was inevitable.

Uniformly, I would consider them good kids underneath in spite of their problems. They were cheerful and hopeful and well-behaved in an environment where they felt loved and respected. But they had a hard time with trust. I wonder why. Like a stray animal who approaches you on the street with their tail wagging but withdraws in fear when you reach out with a gentle touch, they were wary of strangers. They had been mistreated and disappointed so often. On Saturday afternoon we threw a birthday party for every kid. They were given simple presents like shampoo and toothpaste which were wrapped and a Birthday card signed by all of the outside volunteers there. We had balloons and cake and ice cream. After singing Happy Birthday to all of them, most of the kids sat down and heartily dug into the cake and ice cream and tore the wrapping off their presents. Two boys remained standing as silent and rigid as statues looking at the floor or ceiling and doing nothing. I went up to each of them and asked why they were not enjoying the treats. They each told me they didn’t know what to do. No one had ever given them a present. No one had ever given them cake or cookies. No one had ever given them a card. No one had ever wished them Happy Birthday or Merry Christmas. They were afraid because they were clueless as to how to behave. The simplest little things that the rest of us expect in our lives and which make us feel human, things we take for granted, were foreign to them. I wept. They still haunt me. I often wonder where they are now. Are they still in prison? Did they find an opportunity and get a chance to lead a productive life? Are they dead? I try to be optimistic, but I know the pattern and likely outcome all too well. No one deserves to be born into a life of pain and misery and hopelessness. I wonder how many more will end up just like those two boys because of the unthinking, self righteous bigotry of the current Supreme Court.