The kids I work with are, for the most part, residents of the Potomac Gardens housing project. The Gardens, as they call it, is in a rapidly gentrifying section of south-east DC. Property values are skyrocketing, and young, highly-educated professionals are quickly overtaking an area that just ten years ago they would never have set foot in. Restaurants, boutiques, and salons have replaced check-cashing shops and liquor stores. There’s a great little Belgian café, right next to a piano bar that is a favorite hot-spot for the young staffers on Capitol Hill.

The only thing, it seems, that hasn’t changed in this section of Washington is Potomac Gardens. Wander four blocks from trendy 8th Street, down G to 12th Street, and you’ll come face to face with the seven-foot bars that surround the brick & dirt complex that is home to my kids.

The District of Columbia Housing Authority’s website has a description of Potomac Gardens that sounds just lovely (http://www.dchousing.org/Regions/anacostia/PotomacGardensFamily.htm). Check out all the amenities: monitored by volunteer metropolitan police, Family Investment Center (whatever that is), parks, laundry facilities, etc. And the picture – such a nice playground! An “on-site recreation center equipped with pool table, table tennis and a big screen TV”?! Fabulous! Sign me up.

Except none of this is true. Sometimes, I concede, police are in the complex – but their presence seems more confrontational than protective. And there are laundry facilities, but if you want to use them you’ll have to put up with the odor and the group of young men that sometimes hang out there. You cannot get away from the broken glass on the floor/ground, or the garbage – the trash bins are overflowing (and reeking), so if you have something to throw away, just toss it on the ground. There is a playground, but it too is covered in glass and trash, and the equipment is in need of repair.

It is not the facilities, however, that make Potomac Gardens what it is. It is the people. More specifically, it is the children. Drive around the perimeter and you’ll notice groups of them behind the bars. There’s one corner, in particular, where they congregate, because it’s about the only place that has grass. Pull into the parking lot and get out of your car; walk into the first courtyard and there'll usually be a group of 9 or 10 boys playing some game (often football) on the concrete. Toddlers are roaming around, usually cared for by a (slightly) older brother or sister. As you make your way through the maze of dirt courtyards, you’ll see more and more groups of kids, doing what they can to entertain themselves and fill up all their free time.

The first time I visited the Gardens I was scared and silent. I couldn’t tell if the looks I was getting were simply curious, or actually hostile. I could understand why they might not want me there – no one likes being pitied, and, although I do not pity these people, I understand why they might think that I do.

These days, I look forward to my trips to Potomac Gardens, and I try to find more time to spend there. This is not because I am deeply charitable and willing to sacrifice my time and my comfort – it is because I actually love hanging out there. In some strange way, it is more of a neighborhood than anything I have experienced since I was a young child. In those days, I lived on a street where the kids would all play together every day, staying outside rather than in front of the TV. The parents came together often and families would look after one-another’s children. Bottom line – we knew each other and cared about each other. If someone was sick or in need, the neighbors knew, and did something about it.

Potomac Gardens, despite the rampant alcohol and drug use, and the violence, is this type of neighborhood. We need to find a way to encourage this aspect of the complex, while discouraging the negative ones. We also need to give praise where praise is due, and recognize that the people living in what many of us view to be unlivable conditions may actually have it better than us in some ways. I’m learning that the only way we can ever help the children is to recognize the good that they already have in their lives, and try to assist them in developing this. With the love of God added to the equation, the neighborliness that is already present in Potomac Gardens can prove to be transformative in the lives of its residents – especially the children.

I don't know if that makes sense. I'm working all this out as we speak.