Facebook scrolling can be a sobering experience. If I hadn’t learned that before, I knew it Sunday night.
With everyone in the house already asleep, I spent my last moments awake trudging through the pictures, memes and various political vitriol commonplace on my newsfeed. But then I saw a news story that hit me so hard, I still can’t stop thinking about it.
A police officer in Franklin, Ohio, recently found a 7-year-old boy walking alone on a busy street side trying to sell his teddy bear for food. He hadn’t eaten in days, a Cincinnati area television station reported, and he was willing to give up what had to be among his only creature comforts to survive.
Of course, this child kept his teddy bear and the police officer took him out for a meal before finding out the root of the problem. Turns out, the child and his four brothers, ranging in age from 11 to 17, were living with their parents in squalor, their needs often unmet. Their home was full of garbage, cat urine and liquor bottles. Now, all four children are staying with other relatives, and the parents are at least temporarily banned from contacting them.
It was hard to sleep after reading that. First off, my three children are 9, 7 and 1.5 years old. I can’t imagine any of them being in such a state of want or feeling they had to take on that kind of desperate responsibility. It hurts to try to imagine it, quite frankly. I’d rather sell my own soul than for one of my children to have to take such drastic measures to survive.
But clearly there are children — some because of poor decisions adults made, some from rotten luck and others from a combination of the two — who face these types of realities, to worse, every day. These instances, even more sadly, are overwhelming government systems and non-profit organizations put in place to help that can only do so much.
As I put my phone down and tried to push the story out of my mind, I thought, “I wish I hadn’t seen that.” Then I realized the selfishness of the thought.
Even if I hadn’t known or read about it, the incident would still have occurred. Even if the media hadn’t picked it up, the 7-year-old’s nightmare existence would still be very real. And what if the police officer hadn’t seen him? Or what about all of the cases for which there still is no hope?
So is it really better not to know? Ignorance is bliss, as it’s said, and I would certainly have been happier had that story never met my eyes.
I suppose, though, that’s the entire point of putting it out there — to compel people who might rise to the occasion to help someone like how the police officer helped that child. For some, like myself, those stories also are heartbreaking reminders to be thankful for what we have.
You also have to wonder what is the long game for children who live through these situations. How many of them actually grow into adults who do better than what they saw, compared to those who put their own children through the same lifestyle or even end up in prison? Sure, the police officer did what he could for the boy in Franklin. He fed him once and tried to set him and his siblings up for a better chance. But who feeds him now? And how can we be sure he won’t be hungry again as a child?
Moreover, what is our responsibility? Is it enough to take care of our own and ensure they aren’t added to the desperate or ill-kept masses, or are there substantive things we can do to subtract from the existing number of these instances?
Should we read these stories and wring our hands in despair, wishing they were not so? Or should we just keep on scrolling, content with not knowing?
Zack Plair is the managing editor for The Dispatch.
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