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Welcome to Showcase, an online publication of The Writing Academy. Our members work in a wide variety of genre -- sermons, poems, devotions, fantasy, drama, memoir, short stories -- to name only a few. We hope you enjoy this sampling of the work produced by our members.
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(C) 2009 by Jerry Elsea,
Used by Permission
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It is 1976. Deputy Sheriff Dave Webster marches across the shower room in the new juvenile detention center. He dismantles a faucet, holds a pointed part aloft and tells companions, "This is a shiv. How can we give these kids another chance if we surround them with weapons?"
Deputy Dave models authority. He is, after all, a stern uniformed officer. But this day, colleagues see in him the face of Christ, whose inclusive ministry welcomed and blessed children. Dave is, after all, the same man who once sat in the county jail agonizing over a late-night cell assignment in the juvenile detention section. A teen-age girl, molested by her stepfather, had been sent there because no other bed was available.
"This must stop," the distraught deputy told everyone who would listen -- his boss the sheriff, judges, county supervisors and fellow members of St. Paul's Methodist Church. The resulting church-state effort led to creation of a juvenile detention center, apart from the county jail, and a shelter for "children in need of assistance" such as the young girl with no place to go.
So there Dave Webster is in 1976, joining the newly formed advisory committee on youth services and lamenting such oversights as fixtures that can be turned into weapons. They need a corresponding secretary. That's me.
Now it's 2009. The Matthew 25 Ministry Hub's secretary -- that's me -- is arriving at Cleveland Elementary for one-on-one tutoring with Steffan, a first grader greatly resembling Barack Obama at a like age. Only Steffan isn't in class. He's in detention in the principal's office, the result of pounding on other kids. My thoughts turn to Deputy Dave Webster, now deceased, and his words of long ago: "How can we give these kids another chance if we surround them with weapons?"
In a world where weapons abound, my likable first grader improbably has turned himself into one. By the time he and his at-risk classmates are in third grade, faculty will know which are likely to end up in juvenile detention and later prison. Steffan's background portends heartbreak. His father was sent to prison last fall and his mother, in another state, went to jail this spring. After a year in foster care, the boy and his five siblings are up for adoption. A volunteer tutor isn't likely to find out the details, so this part of the story has no satisfactory ending.
The closer-to-home part, though, is fulfilling. Half my life I have heard a calling to volunteer in children's programs -- county youth services, public library board (with kids a major part), Newspaper in Education school workshops (a professional connection there), mission work at church and at the inner-city Matthew 25 Ministry Hub. It began with the deputy whose words and actions I treasure. For they reflect Jesus' instruction to followers on behalf of all society's marginalized, "What you do for the least of these . . . you do for me."
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About the Author. . .
Jerry Elsea, retired as Opinion Page Editor for the Cedar Rapids Gazette, has over forty years of experience in journalism. He has won awards from the American Political Science Association for distinguished reporting of public affairs, and from the Iowa Newspaper Association, for excellence in editorial writing. The Elseas--Jerry and Fran--are long-time members of the Academy, and Jerry is a past president.
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