By Nova Pierce
The pitter patter of rain accompanied by the crackling flap like the sound of a murder of crows echoed throughout the car. The flailing of the black garbage clinging to my rear window as we drove down the interstate only embellished the negative thoughts that consumed my mind.
“If you tried harder you wouldn’t be in this situation”
“Maybe if you were better your parents would care”
“Why are you always wrong?”
“You must have done something to deserve this”
“You deserve this”
Silent tears flood down my face as my boyfriend zooms down the street. Staring out the window I wonder. When was it that I got so used to suffering in silence? Images of eight-year-old me curled in the corner soothing myself with a subtle rock as I clung a pillow to my chest and bit my quivering lip.
I’m brought back to the present as I feel the warmth of my boyfriend’s hand on mine. “Are you alright?” He asks as he peers at me, periodically removing his attention from the road. I nod slightly as I proclaim, “I’ll be okay.” Silence befalls us as the symphony of troubles refloods my mind.
Two days prior my car was broken into outside of his house. Since then I’ve been on the brink of ruins. They stole our book bags and decided they didn’t like the contents and thus dispersed my items throughout the neighboring streets. We spent the following afternoon collecting my items from the side of the road. I glance at my hands, still slightly tinted from the ink of my destroyed stationary items, a defeated chuckle escaping me. All during finals week, I think as I refocus my attention on the imagery outside my professor’s words popping up in my head.
“The broken window theory suggests that evidence of neglect within an environment causes people to fall into misconduct, thus increasing rates of crime.”
Here I sat staring out the window melancholy, a victim of a crime. Staring at my neglected window in the mirror as the chill autumn breeze chilled my skin. Yet not thoughts of misconduct or chaos flooded my mind. Merely a nebulous of hopelessness clung to my chest as an energy of despair encapsulated me. Is the broken window theory not more of a psychological concept rather than a criminological one? When a person is surrounded by chaos and neglect daily, to the point in which their trees depict the sickness, how is one to behave? When all you see are images of failures, how is there room for ambitions to grow? For aspirations to glow?
Is this a place in which blind faith must enter so that one does not fall into the pits of poverty? I speak not in physical terms but rather that of the mind and spirit. I speak of the tunnel vision one gets when they feel trapped, when they view that their life no longer has any movement, any path. In environments like this, how is one to have optimism? To maintain a growth mindset amongst the constant whispers of your future failures. I’m not sure, but it’s certainly a question worth asking.
Self-defined financial enthusiast, traveler, and lover of the written arts, Nova Pierce is an MSW student with a BA in psychology; with over three years of working experience in mental healthcare. She’s enamored with topics on spirituality, social justice, and the overall human experience. To contact Nova, please send an email to thenewcitizenspress@gmail.com.
