Children's Environments Vol. 9 No. 2 (1992) There Are No Children Here: The Story of Two Boys Growing Up in the Other America Kotlowitz, Alex (1991). New York: Anchor Books, Doubleday; 318 pages. $14.95. ISBN 0385265565. Late last fall the Boston Globe reported on the homicide trial of seventeen yearold Felicia Morgan in Milwaukee. Morgan was tried for gunning down a girl herown age who had refused to hand over her leather trench coat when Morgan andfriends demanded it. Morgan's attorney, Robin Shellow, in an unusual insanitydefense, attempted to convince the jury that her client suffered fromposttraumatic stress syndrome, and was unable to distinguish right fromwrong. Felicia Morgan, she claimed, had grown up in the unrelentingly violentenvironment of the inner city. This, together with her abusive home life, had sodamaged her psychologically that she should be absolved from responsibility forher crime. James Garbarino, a noted expert on the effects of violence onchildren, testified that life for children in America's urban areas is asbrutal, insecure, and traumatic as it is for those in war zones. The judge,however, would not allow the jury to hear his testimony. Morgan in the end was not absolved. The jury convicted her of murder and armedrobbery, and she was committed to life in prison. Felicia Morgan's crime waschilling, and it is hard not to sympathize with the conclusion of her victim'sfather. For him it was a matter of right and wrong: 'You don't kill no one overa coat,' he said. 'I wouldn't do that. You wouldn't do that.' But Morgan'sattorney raised a critical issue, and one that needs to be raised again andagain, until we as a society are willing to look unflinchingly at the lives ofchildren reared in the violence of our cities, and to consider whereresponsibility lies. Nowhere are these lives more effectively chronicled that in Alex Kotlowitz' finebook, There Are No Children Here. Kotlowitz describes in graphic detail theextent to which children do indeed live in war zones in this country. Thesubjects of his book are brothers, 292 Lafeyette and Pharoah Rivers, aged 11 and 9when the account begins. They live with their mother and 4 year old tripletsiblings in a Chicago public housing highrise. The elevators don't work, thebasement is full of rats and rotting carcasses, and putrid smells rise throughthe plumbing to make their apartment unbearable on a hot day. Kotlowitzdescribes two years in the lives of the boys, and it is a wrenching report byany standard. He tells of his first meeting with Lafeyette, when the boy wasbarely ten years old. They were discussing his plans for the future. 'If I growup,' the boy says, 'I'd like to be a bus driver.' 'If,' Kotlowitz points out,'not when. At the age of ten, Lafeyette wasn't sure he'd make it to adulthood.'His mother, LaJoe, is no more secure about his chances. In the six monthspreceding the summer of 1987, 57 children were killed in the city, fiveof them in the vicinity of the family's building. That summer LaJoe took outburial insurance on the two boys and the younger children. Gunfire in the projects is a fact of life. Rival gangs shoot at one another fromhighrise to highrise on a regular basis. In the boys' apartment there are bulletholes in the livingroom curtains, in a bedroom window, and in one of thedoors. The narrow hallway is their fallout shelter, and they spend hours theresometimes, trying to contain the restless triplets, and waiting for the soundsof battle to end. There is a harrowing account of a gang dispute one day just asschool is letting out, and of Lafeyette's fear that Pharoah will run through thegunfire on his way home. Pharoah makes it home and pounds frantically on thedoor to be let in, but he cannot be heard over the sounds of the shooting. The wonder is that these children hold on to any kind of hope. We hear ofLafeyette's longing for another kind of life and his determination not to dropout or join a gang; of his despair at being convicted for a crime he didn'tcommit; of his pain and growing cynicism, as...
Read full abstract