Delinquent Angel-Shelton Lea, biographer Diana Georgeff
About halfway through my morning conversation with Mr Right, he became quite depressed. It was because I was outlining Shelton Lea’s childhood, first the emotional neglect from well off but dysfunctional adoptive parents, the anguish of not knowing his origins and then the harsh reality of what happened to each generation of unwanted parentless children, pushed between institutions that were harsh at best and sadistic and criminal. It was truly wrenching to read about Turana, the boys home for unwanted wards of state and delinquent boys; how easy it was to become entrenched in poverty and petty crime and be at the mercy of inmates and warders.
Was I crying? I was reading it at night time, my eyeballs were too tired to cry. But yes, it was overwhelmingly sad to again confront how the issue of childhood and how to bring up children just gets muffled from generation to generation. My parents weren’t perfect, but I am so privileged compared to children who don’t know both of their parents, or who battle poverty and drugs. Then there are all the types of abuse and how to protect children from predators and develop skills that help them take care of themselves. There are parents having too many children or not enough, there are people without children who know more than parents with children. The notion of what happens to children without parents still sticks on my throat; to be without a protector is so heartbreaking.
And his poetry was AMAZING, captured everything fantastic and lovable and intoxicating about poetry; how suprising it is that someone conveys a complex emotion with less words than conversation; and they turn your mind around as you chase it's meaning. Bring on the next poetry party!
About halfway through my morning conversation with Mr Right, he became quite depressed. It was because I was outlining Shelton Lea’s childhood, first the emotional neglect from well off but dysfunctional adoptive parents, the anguish of not knowing his origins and then the harsh reality of what happened to each generation of unwanted parentless children, pushed between institutions that were harsh at best and sadistic and criminal. It was truly wrenching to read about Turana, the boys home for unwanted wards of state and delinquent boys; how easy it was to become entrenched in poverty and petty crime and be at the mercy of inmates and warders.
Was I crying? I was reading it at night time, my eyeballs were too tired to cry. But yes, it was overwhelmingly sad to again confront how the issue of childhood and how to bring up children just gets muffled from generation to generation. My parents weren’t perfect, but I am so privileged compared to children who don’t know both of their parents, or who battle poverty and drugs. Then there are all the types of abuse and how to protect children from predators and develop skills that help them take care of themselves. There are parents having too many children or not enough, there are people without children who know more than parents with children. The notion of what happens to children without parents still sticks on my throat; to be without a protector is so heartbreaking.
And his poetry was AMAZING, captured everything fantastic and lovable and intoxicating about poetry; how suprising it is that someone conveys a complex emotion with less words than conversation; and they turn your mind around as you chase it's meaning. Bring on the next poetry party!
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