A Victim

It has been a crummy week because of the school busing part of my job. It brought a couple of the more intense memories of Kevin to the forefront as I mentioned previously. This specific memory has also inspired me to stick to my guns and do the right thing. A couple of months ago there was an incident on my bus involving a Lincoln High student, formerly attending Brody. He got on my bus, hurled alot of foul language in my direction, came up to the front of the bus, squirted me with , I guess, silly string and ran off the bus somehow squeezing through the back doors of the bus which I had closed. Unfortunately I didn't contain him but all of this was captured on video tape. As per the recommendation of my superiors I filed charges at the police dept. This incident was called an assault. With my previous dealings with the police that was the last place I wanted to be. Previously I dealt with detectives and although I did talk to one detective over the phone I don't think they knew I was Kevin Martin's mother.

The officer who did the intake called me. A detective called me. Polk Co. sent me literature because I was now a victim of a crime! A victim. Some of the information was useful as it described what I felt and somewhat what I was going through. Feeling helpless, unable to concentrate, being fearful, depressed, etc. Yes I am all of those things but it isn't because I was shot with silly string on an MTA bus. IT IS BECAUSE MY SON WAS MISSING AND THEN FOUND DEAD AND VERY LITTLE WAS DONE ABOUT IT. I'm just amazed at how prompt and efficient the police were regarding the bus situation. I'm sure that is a good thing and perhaps it was the case because it was the MTA. That's okay but it just highlights even more the lack of adequate response in a really critical situation. This is probably human nature too as people really shine on the simple things. The really serious situations - that's a different story. Maybe the police did the best they could. I don't know. At work I have dropped the issues of this past week, for now, because I don't want to test the MTA as the police in my opinion were tested. I wasn't ready to face another truth and that's what happens often times if you push an issue. Everything would have been fine if I accepted the police at face value but I didn't and so I am the problem. All of us have been put down by the police. Me, Kevin's father, Kevin's step mother, Kevin's brother. The victims are being victimized. That's nothing profound. We hear it in the news all the time. Common knowledge.

After I dropped my last students that day and headed to my layover point I started to cry. I heard Kevin's voice in my head. "mom don't let those kids..." I cried for that reason. The incident on the bus was unpleasant. I felt bad for the middleschoolers who were even repulsed by the language of this kid. I cry because I am a victim of a crime but not this one. But most importantly I cry because of the real tragedy. Kevin lost his life. He is the victim of a crime in my opinion and he is being victimized. He is being blamed for his own death. I don't buy it...