A story of peace not violence

I tutored him at his school when he was in the eighth grade. He wanted to play basketball in high school, and hoped to own his own barber shop some day.

But life was tough on Derek (not his real name). And he was struggling in school. He was reading at the second-grade level. And I, the volunteer tutor, had been asked to work with him one-on-one.

Some of our sessions were good, and some were hard. Sometimes Derek didn't want to talk to me. Other times, he made a real effort. Occasionally he opened up to me, and I learned some shocking information. His best friend had been murdered, by someone who wanted his jacket. His dad had also been murdered. I understood why sometimes he talked about guns and shooting. This was a big part of the world he knew too well.

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