Lakweshia Ewing remembers decades ago, sitting at the elementary school lunch table as her friend – the preacher’s daughter – was talking about the church van that got stolen. All her classmates were nodding, yes, how awful, how bad.
Except Ewing, burning with shame.
“I remember praying to God that nobody knew the name of the suspect,” Ewing said. “My daddy was the one who stole the church bus.”
She remembers stopped at a red light, glancing into the alley, seeing her father dealing drugs. Remembers missed Christmases, birthdays, graduations, all the things that went unsaid. Ewing remembers building an inner wall of resistance and hurt.
For much of her early life, Ewing’s father was in prison.