A view of Lehigh Avenue
From Cecil B. to Lehigh, posted Mar. 19.
Meeting with Michelle has been a learning experience for me, and oddly enough, comforting. For a dozen reasons, it’s still hard not to venture into a more dangerous section of Philadelphia without some preconceived notions about what it will be like, and what the people there will be like.
When Felicia and I started going to see Michelle, we talked a lot about her and her children. We would sit in her living room, modestly furnished except for a big-screen TV in the corner. Her children came through every once in a while, seeming neither fazed nor annoyed by us.
The front door wasn’t sealed well, so a breeze usually blew an early-year chill through it. The house never seemed cold, though. A heater kicked on every once in a while.
Our conversations usually surrounded her children. She told us stories of going to her daughter’s school after hearing a rumor that some other girls wanted to fight her after school (it turned out not to be true: no girls showed). There were stories about giving her daughters cell phones, and not being afraid to take them away if their grades fell.
“My friend says I’m bribing them,” Michelle said. She feels differently, though. If it gets them to do their work, great.
“Respect for respect,” she is fond of saying.
