Soul Sista, part I

Back again to blog. Over the past few years, in the midst of moving to two different states, I've thought a fair amount about friendship.  And I want to start off what will hopefully become a series of posts by telling about a girl named Lizzie.

In the fall of 2002, I did a social work internship at a residential treatment center for adolescent girls. A majority of these girls have suffered abuse or neglect in their short lives, and they are dealing with a myriad of issues. One day a new resident arrived and she was assigned to the social worker that I was shadowing for the week.  The social worker and I were the first to welcome 14 year old Lizzie to her new, temporary home, and I had the opportunity to show her to her room and spend a few minutes getting to know her.

Lizzie was quite personable with me and, as she unpacked her brown paper grocery bag with personal items, she was eager to show me some of her valuables.  She showed me her poetry in her notebook, and proudly read aloud from her book to demonstrate how well she could read.  Lizzie said she wanted to be a lawyer when she grew up.  And she said she was terrified of deer- which were common in her new surroundings, but something she'd never seen before, having lived in the city. She didn't tell me (though later I read it in her file) that she ended up in a residential placement after being neglected by her adoptive mother at a young age, that she had been living on the streets for most of the past two years, and that she got busted for propositioning an undercover officer for sex.  But Lizzie did tell me that she is scared of thunder and other loud noises because it reminds her of when she recently witnessed her boyfriend being shot in the face.

After about 15 minutes of chatting with Lizzie, she put her arm around me and said something to the effect of, "I really like you. Me and you- we are soul sista's!"

Soul Sisters?! It was hard to refrain from both laughing and crying the moment when Lizzie said that to me.  I mean, really, few things are more absurd than to think that this girl, who in actuality had nothing in common with me, was my soul sister.  And it broke my heart to think that it only took 15 minutes of me listening to her in a genuine and accepting way, for her to conclude that we had a special bond.  Yes, Lizzie had boundary issues, for sure.  But when was the last time someone simply sat and listened to Lizzie, without some kind of agenda?

Lizzie and I got off to a great start, and it was true that we did form a special bond that day.  Over the next few weeks, there were a few instances at the RTC where Lizzie was having a hard time and getting into trouble and I was the only person to whom she was willing to talk or listen.  Soon, though, my internship ended, and I was worried that Lizzie wasn't going to make it there, that she would need an even higher level of care.  Of course I don't know what ever happened to her after I left.  I do still think about Lizzie from time to time.  And since that day I've thought about what it means to be or have a soul sister in a new light.