Hannah Montana

Yesterday, as I was updating this blog, a young girl walked into the gym where I was working. I had seen her before riding her bike around and I guessed her to be around 8 years old, so I asked her her name. She walked over to me and introduced herself. For the purposes of this blog, I shall call her Hannah. I was immediately struck by this young girl who was striving to look like a 25 year old woman. Her hair was smartly arranged and cut in the across the eyes look. She was toting a little purse and was wearing glitter lip balm and eye shadow. Glued to her nails were those fake french manicure stick-ons that you can buy at Claire's. I talked to her a bit and found out that she indeed would be in my class come Tuesday. She was rather shocked by the fact that I was a teacher, as one so young. In fact, she even asked me if I was a teenager. I just laughed, though this perception could be problematic for me in the future.

Hannah's hero, like many tweens, is Miley Cyrus aka Hannah Montana. The girl could not stopping about her--Miley Cyrus CDs, Miley Cyrus movies, Miley Cyrus biographical information--even Miley Cyrus leggings! Then I clearly understood why the girl dressed as she did--she was emulated her hero. This saddened me so much as I watched a girl who should be playing in the mud and have ribbons in her, grow up so fast.

Eventually I tried to change the subject from Miley and tried to find out more about her. I learned that she lives with her grandmother in staff housing on campus, not far from where I live. She proceeded to explain to me that she has two dads and a mom--all of which she sees only on occasion. She sees her mom at Christmas and her father she sees only through recorded video tapes and greeting cards. Hannah's situation is not uncommon, but it grieves me none the less. I about lost it when she turned the questions on me:

"Where is your mom and dad?"
"They live in Montana.
"Oh...Do you know them?"
"Yes...I grew up with them," I replied, choking back tears. I ended by telling Hannah that she could always knock on my door if she needed homework help. I walked her home and said goodbye, for now.

Surprisingly, that was not the last I saw of Hannah that day. It was about 8:00 and I was heading back home after going to a Bible study at the church I now attend. I was a few hundred meters from my house when to my horror, I see a little girl walking alone in the middle of the road and surrounded by a pack of dogs. I quickly realize that it is Hannah and immediately pullover.

"Hannah, what in the world are you doing?"
"My grandmother sent me to the store to pick up lemonade."
"Get in the truck, Hannah. I'll take you over."

Now, the store is not all that far away--about 3/4 of a mile. However, it was dark, she was alone and there are an appallingly amount of drunk drivers on the roads in Pine Ridge. I grew up in Montana and have virtually no fear of walking alone in the dark almost anywhere...but I am certainly not eight years old. I drove the girl to the store and back and told her if she ever had to walk in the dark again, come knock on my door and I would take her.

Life is so different here. The rules are not the same as poverty forces people to make choices that the middle class or wealthy never even consider. I really need wisdom and discernment to know best how to serve God's people here.