Jake (not his real name) came to me one day and asked, “Mr Goodenow, Why do I have to take cosmetology and sewing.” Jake towered over me. He grew up on the streets of Cleveland and had been committed for armed robbery. The institution was unwilling to implement more gender suitable school programs (“cost too much”), so with the donation of a VW we started an after hours car program. To get money for the program we sold everything we could find in the institution’s dump. This is actually where the idea for Chimorel’s recycling program started. Jake and his cottage mates got a little exposure to welding, hand tools and similar skills despite the lack of funds at the institution.

       Janice (pseudonym, of course) left her mother because “my mom just didn’t understand.” Her pimp understood. One day he had her out on a window ledge 20 stories up and was pinching her legs. At 16 Janice was learning things she really didn’t need to know. She was caught and joined my caseload. She was quiet, never a problem, confused. Sometimes she talked wistfully of life on the streets. Sometimes it disgusted her. She desperately wanted to be loved. The love she had found was exciting, scary, degrading.