Commentary: What about the children? Aug. 9, 2004 A UMNS Commentary
By Connie D. Rouse* Bernard “Bernie” Rouse Jr. was 29 years old when they shot him just a few months ago. He gave them the keys to the car and the wallet, but they still shot him. His tear-stained face, as he lay in the coffin, lent a hint of truth to the fact that he begged for his life, but they shot him anyway. Why did they do it? I think that someone decided that they wanted his “stuff,” his belongings that he had worked for, which they did not want to work for themselves. So, they killed him and took them because they had no respect for life. Every day on the television, I see that some young person has been killed. It always pains me but somehow these faceless, nameless people end up being only a single whispered prayer for the grieving family left behind. Then, I just go on living, thanking God that it was not my family or me. Further, I pray desperately for God’s continued protection.
Yet, when we received the call a few months ago about Bernie, I wept from the depths of my soul. It wasn’t some gang member. It was Bernie, our nephew. He was a husband, a father, a brother and an only son. He had a degree in computer technology, had just received his realtor’s license, and was two days away from entering school to pursue another degree. Bernie had a life and a future until someone decided that it was worthless, and that breaks my heart. When I was a young minister’s wife many years ago, we lived in a small town in South Carolina. One of our youth was a beautiful and stately young girl named Rose. I barely got the chance to meet her before the great tragedy occurred. She was about 13 years old and was playing with her best friend in front of her house. As it often is with friends, an argument ensued. It was just a normal, ordinary argument between friends. However, on this particular day Rose, for a few fleeting moments, lost complete control. She ran into her house and grabbed a knife. She claimed that she only meant to frighten her young friend, but within minutes the other young girl was dead. Rose was remanded to a correctional system until she became an adult. I don’t really know what happened to her after we left, but I have often thought of her and prayed that God would be with her. I remember how sad she was that night and how she kept saying that she was sorry. I could not fix Rose’s situation despite her deep remorse. I couldn’t give life back to her young friend. I could not mend the hearts of either mother. It was God’s work and only He could restore life and mend broken hearts. So, I continued to pray and I started to dance. Yes, dance! When the opportunity availed itself to me to teach dance to a group of young girls and boys in the community, I seized it. Life was precious to me and I used that dance class to teach the children that their lives were precious and valuable to God. I taught them that their bodies, as well as the bodies of all people, are “temples of God.” I tried to help them see that they needed to respect their bodies and live lives that would glorify God. The youth learned how to pray in that dance class. They learned discipline. The class became a teen peer-counseling center. Only one of my students actually became a professional dancer, but the others survived and thrived. They became a day-care owner, a nurse, a journalist, a hair stylist, a teacher, a research scientist with a doctorate from Stanford, a human resource specialist, a specialist in juvenile justice—the list goes on. One is even a minister’s wife who learned to dance so well that she is sharing her talent with the children in her church. I was relieved when they arrested the two men who killed Bernard Jr. One is a juvenile and the other is a 23-year-old with a prior homicide record. Yet, as angry as I am at them for their senseless, selfish, hateful deed, the God in me makes me now mourn for the loss of three lives. Greater still, my heart breaks in pieces because I know that we will continue to bury young men and women prematurely unless we reach our children and youth in life transforming ways. They will line the cells of prisons instead of the halls of learning. We must not let them be devoured by the ruthless standards of the streets. It has claimed far too many. We must take back our children’s lives and claim them in Jesus’ name. We must sacrifice our time and our talents to make a difference in the lives of those God has entrusted us with. As the gospel singer Yolanda Adams asks: “What about the children?” To ignore is so easy. So many innocent children would choose the wrong way. What about the children? Remember when we were children. If not for those who loved us and who cared enough to show us, where would we be today? What about the children?” The two young men who killed Bernie were ignored by society and they chose the wrong way. Let us not keep ignoring them—that is, if we care about our children.
*Rouse is a freelance writer and member of Metropolitan Community Church in Harlem, N.Y.
News media contact: Linda Green·(615) 742-5470·Nashville, Tenn. · E-mail: newsdesk@umcom.org.
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