“My Way Or The Highway” Isn’t Tough Love, It’s Abuse

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Growing up, my parents were huge proponents of corporal punishment. I’d have a tough time convincing their grandchildren and great-grandchildren that that were ever the case but back in their parenting prime, they were the quintessential authoritarian parents which meant zero explanations, unlimited rules, and all you can eat ass whoopings. There’s no question my parents were about that action, but even they drew the line somewhere, and that was right at the border of harsh and heartless. Granted, that didn’t stop them from threatening to send me back to Nigeria a few times, but when it came to forcing me out on the street to fend for myself that just wasn’t an option.

So the first time a friend told me she was newly homeless after being put out by her mother’s boyfriend, I couldn’t fully understand what she meant. “You mean you can’t go back home?”, I asked her. “Where does he want you to go?” As my friend explained just how on her own she really was, my heart broke for her. Ultimately, she would be the first of many of our peers to face the same fate. Out on the street without the ability to work or provide for herself, my friend dropped out of school so she could focus less on science and more on survival. Eventually I lost track of my friend. Maybe she became another homeless teen…