Last night I was watching Oprah on Anderson Cooper 360 and she was asked as to why she didn't start a school like the one in South Africa here in the US. Oprah said she got tired of touring inner city schools in the US. When she would ask the kids what they wanted most it was always something material like an i-Pod. She said the kids in Africa were desperate for education and a better way of life. I can actually relate to how she felt and I know the discouragement you feel when you try really hard to make a difference in a kids life.

I use to mentor a kid named Nancy. I met her when she was five years old through a mutual friend and I loved her instantly. All through her adolescence I was there for her as a friend. Her family background was pretty nightmarish and I felt like I could contribute something to the other wise dismal life of a sweet little girl.

Nancy's mother gave birth to her at the age of thirteen. Around the same time, Nancy's maternal grandmother, who was a drug addict gave birth to a baby. Nancy's mother shook that baby (her sister) to death and spent a couple of years in Juvenile hall. Nancy's father was seventeen at the time of her birth and was a drug addict as well. Unless he bumped into the child on the street, he really had little contact with his only child. When her mother went to prison, Nancy's great grandmother gained full custody of her. The great grandmother worked as a domestic and took in her grandchildren as their parents flaked out for one reason or another.

The house Nancy lived in with her grandmother was filthy and run down beyond belief. When you walked into the two story row house you were immediately hit with the smell of cat urine. Wild cats ran though the house in order to keep the rats away. The basement window that faced the street was broken for many years. The neighborhood was riddled with drug activity. Eventually Nancy's grandmother scraped together enough money to buy this place.

Nancy had my work number and my home number. She would call and I would pick her up to hang out and run errands. I took her to nice parts of the city for shopping and lunch. I took her to the X-games when they came to Philly. We always had a lot of fun together. We would shop at Loehmann's. It was fun for me to buy her size two designer clothes at a bargain price. We bonded during these times. Her grandmother never asked me for anything. She seemed to appreciate what I did for the kid. I was happy to show Nancy something else besides her bleak world. I wanted her to feel she deserved everything other kids her age had and I hoped she would want more for herself. I talked to her about the importance of school and not having a baby too soon. I think her parents, who had little to no involvement with her, were shocked to learn that I stuck by the kid year after year.

As time passed things changed of course. Nancy would call me every weekend and she wanted to be taken out. She never had her own money to spend, not even five dollars- ever. I started to feel pressure and I started to feel a little used. The calls were constant and I tried to be there for her as much as I could. She didn't communicate well. She didn't talk in terms of her feelings or details and it was getting harder and harder to have a conversation. I couldn't read her and I didn't see a lot of motivation. Her grades were really bad, she even failed seventh grade. Little by little, I felt the need to back off. The phone calls were becoming intrusive and borderline rude with requests.

The summer that Nancy was just turning 18 years old. I received a card in the mail from her. By then, I had changed jobs and didn't give her the new number. I changed my home phone and didn't pass that number along either. I called her only occasionally. The card was an invitation to her baby shower. I was stunned although I don't know why.

Nancy's had many, many cousins and her mother went on to have eight more children, one after another. She was surrounded with girls having babies and few men in sight. I went to the shower and saw a very depressing situation. For shower gifts she received used clothes other people's children had out grown. I think I brought the only new thing. She wanted to attend lamas classes but of course had no way to get there in the evenings. I agreed to take her. The lamaze classes were really fun for us and she certainly wasn't the only unwed teen mother there, so it wasn't awkward for her. I just wanted her to bond with the baby in her stomach and she seemed too be looking forward to the big event.

I went to see her in the hospital after the little girl was born. She named her La Mýa Summer. She said I would be her babies god mother. She always called me her god mother too. The baby's father was there, but shortly after the birth his mother denied paternity due to the baby's dark complexion. The young boy disappeared and was rarely heard from again. I only saw Nancy and the baby a few times after that myself. On both occasions I discussed her life plans with her and she wouldn't commit to returning to school or getting a job. She only seemed interested in what I was willing to buy her daughter. She suggested I might want to pay for her babies ears to be pierced. I saw the pattern starting all over. Now it was going to be a second generation of me giving and her not doing anything except showing up to receive. I opted out and I don't regret it. A couple of years later I saw Nancy in the mall with a girlfriend. Sad to say, everything from what I could tell was just as I had left it.