I wanted to say something about Ocean View today. But I didn’t want to add to the negativity and fear already on the Internet. I wanted to tell you that today my sweet friend who is 65 years old was on her way to our container when she was caught in the cross fire of a gang shooting. She wasn’t hit, but she is a grandmother who is trying to help her community. She is a grandmother. She had to cover her head and run from gunfire.
I wanted to tell you that this weekend another child lost his life when shooters entered his house and opened fire while chasing someone else. On the day of a wedding in the family. But I don’t want to be accused of using Ocean View’s tragedy to get sympathy which could translate into financial support for us.
I wanted to say that this morning before 9 a.m. there were 32 shots fired close to where we have 40 children playing and learning.
I wanted to say that while residents are warned to stay inside their homes, we left Ocean View, drove across the street, a mere 50 meters and sat in a quiet cafe and I ordered a cappuccino to steady my emotions.
I wanted to say that I’m dealing with a white-hot rage mixed with a sliver of hope and a helpless sense of disqualification. I don’t fully belong to this community, to this country or to their story.
But I feel it like it’s my own. And today, I just want you to know that just down the road in the area known as Slangkop, there is an unanswered pain too overwhelming to carry alone.