(14 of 26)
"You look to understand first. You try not to judge, because inevitably judging is rejecting. You may have to make hard choices, but without judging. You look at their past. Tony and Ingrid have climbed a long way up to get to the kinds of troubles they now have. She comes from a German-Welsh background, grew up in a German section of Queens. Mother a schizophrenic, in and out of institutions. Heartbreaking for Ingrid. Father a bitter alcoholic, consumed with self-pity. Ingrid was putting needles in her arms at 14. She was arrested for pushing at 15. Yet she managed to play mother to five brothers and sisters, and eventually she stopped the drugs. That's how she met Tony: they both were on detoxification programs. I think they met at a lunch counter."
"Isn't there hope for them in the fact that Tony too showed courage? He described his childhood in Brownsville to me, how his mother would slice a banana so that each of the ten children would have something to eat. Did he tell you about his stepfather? About his hitting the kids with electric wires and cracking a thermos over Tony's head when Tony was five? Tony said the man would dip his fingers in Tabasco sauce and stick them down Tony's mouth, that he hit Tony's mother in the stomach with a baseball bat when she was eight months pregnant. As you say, they both have struggled. What do you do to keep them going?"
"Well, I give them an exercise in responsibility. This week I've suggested that Tony try paying the bills. He said I was putting him on the spot, but really I was putting them both on the spot because the exercise is also a test of whether Ingrid can ask Tony to do something in a way that will make him glad to do it."
"Even as an outsider, I could see there is a lot to Ingrid. Isn't there? As we talked it was clear that Tony couldn't care less about his sheet-metal job, but Ingrid was fascinated by the fact that the things he makes go into the Holland Tunnel and onto the Brooklyn Bridge. You could almost see her mind travel."
"Three months of working with them has shown me there is a lot to Tony too. They are both very gentle, very generous. The trouble is that she is moving much faster than he is now. And Tony simply does not believe in himself. After every session at the center, he makes a point of shaking my hand. The reason may be that I see him in a way he does not see himself."
"Funny about Tony shaking your hand. When I was leaving, they both walked me downstairs. The woman super, incidentally, was snooping at her door, and slammed it as we passed. Suddenly, Tony thanked me extravagantly for coming --patted me on the shoulder, looked at me with real affection--even though it was they who were doing the favor for me."
"You treated him like a man."
VIII MICHAEL
Michael bends his head so close to his notebook that his nose almost brushes the page. He insists on doing his homework, although by now he knows that these group sessions at the center are exclusively for play. Lori and Betsy, the two graduate-student group leaders, practically have to pry Michael away from the book. Ralphy, who like Michael is seven, watches the scene with interest and malice. "That your stupid old notebook?" he asks Michael. Ralphy is black. Carmen is Hispanic. Elena is white, with a broad Slavic face. All four children are the same size.