Freedom Writers and Entry 78

I made this entry my personal responsibility to write about a single entry from the dairy of the Freedom Writers. I want to write about how the mind captures the feeling of being abused. Now I'm not suggesting that the person personally has to be the victim of abuse, but he or she can also be a mere spectator of an abuse--someone whom he or she loves. Because the book is rife with stories of abuse and pain I wanted to choose the entry carefully.

Entry 78:

"Me, cleaning my mother's blood off the wall, represented the 'tornado' breaking and destroying her face (I liked to call my mother's boyfriend the 'tornado'.) After he would hit, everything would look like it had been caught in a whirlwind--our apartment, our sanity, and my mother's face. I was cleaning up after the tornado hit my house and diminished everything. Washing my mom's blood, which was shed from time to time; a sacrifice to make him happy. He lived for blood--her blood, enjoying every fist that hit her flesh, and every scream that took place. While he broke televisions, stereos, VCRs and the dining room table, it didn't compare to the breaking of her mind. My mom was never the same, and neither was I . . ."

So what does it take to get to this point? I previously asked this question in my other blog. We can hate history's characters which resemble terror and violence, but that very ideology is prevalent in our streets and our homes. People need to be more like the teacher that the Freedom Writers had. She was an example of a true educator. In reality, we are all educators. It is in the mind to educate, as if imbued in the creation order. Educate yourself to be ready and alert, being ready to respond to hurting people. We should not wane from the truth--its lessons and moral responsibilities.