The Voices in Our World

A series by Louisiana for Children’s Rights, in partnership with The Lens, that elevates the voices and experiences of Black youth currently or formerly detained in the Orleans Parish juvenile jail
An incarcerated young person, exploring self: “I am not my charges / I wonder why I am judged before I’m met / I hear all the bad comments but can’t let it break me / I see light at my darkest points.” (Photo by Gus Bennett / The Lens)

Young people in detainment or incarceration are disconnected from “The Village” — their family, friends, school and city. Their thoughts, experiences and concerns are often omitted from discussions about policy, current events and even the criminal legal system, though its effects most dramatically affect them. Their voices are seldom shared in the media, although headlines often discuss them.

Rarely do we allow detained or incarcerated youth the opportunity to verbalize in their own words how they see and describe themselves, the challenges and trauma they may have experienced, their hopes and dreams, their mistakes and regrets, or their solutions to the issues and disparities facing their generation.

We cannot claim to be committed to a more equitable future for New Orleans if we are not listening to its children. 

All of its children.

Throughout this series, you will read anonymous reflections that young people wrote in response to prompts I shared in storytelling circles, through my role as strategic storyteller for the Louisiana Center for Children’s Rights. The themes include self-reflection, current events, policy, media, history and culture.

We make up The Village that collectively raises New Orleans’ children. So we invite you, as a member of that village, to digest their expressions with a humane lens. We hope that by sharing their narratives, we can pursue a new narrative for the next generation.

– Cierra Chenier

A second child writes from detention: “I am capable / I pretend that I’m okay, but deep down I’m not / I feel remorse for the people that I hurt / I touch people by the way I speak.” (Photo by Gus Bennett | The Lens)

#1

I am not my charges
I wonder why I am judged before I’m met
I hear all the bad comments but can’t let it break me
I see light at my darkest points
I want certain things but have to realize needs are more important

I am outgoing for the ones I love
I pretend to be happy when I’m not
I feel like giving up at times
I touch my back window thinking ‘bout freedom
I worry ‘bout my family and friends’ safety

I cry for my loved ones that’s no longer here
I am not perfect
I understand you have to take L’s to win
I say God is good at all times
I dream bigger than I let on

I try to be better than I was yesterday
I hope for the best but know that bad can always come
I am me. I was misled but that don’t mean I have to be what they said. I will choose my road. I am me — no longer pretending who they want me to be

#2

I am me
I wonder what my parents think of me
I hear and consider everybody’s opinion

I see light at the end of my tunnel
I want the best in everything I do

I am capable
I pretend that I’m okay, but deep down I’m not
I feel remorse for the people that I hurt
I touch people by the way I speak
I worry about too much nonsense
I cry often

I am courageous
I understand people’s feelings
I say what needs to be said

I dream of what true happiness would be
I try to look for the best-case scenario in things
I hope to be a great mentor
I am lion-hearted

In Cierra Chenier’s storytelling circles, a child wrote poetry: “I see light at the end of my tunnel. I want the best in everything I do.” (Photo by Gus Bennett | The Lens)

This series is a part of the #ItTakesAVillageNOLA campaign led by the Louisiana Center for Children’s Rights. To join The Village, sign the community pledge and learn more at www.ittakesavillagenola.org.