Methamphetamine and children

For this assignment I chose an article that focuses on the effects of meth on children specifically. It opens up with some very vague descriptions of experiences of children living with their meth addicted parents. The experiences range from being left to fend for themselves (sometimes for days alone), to the more extreme being forced to partake in the drug with their parents (for some reason I have trouble visualizing that being the case in any event). Nevertheless from a professional standpoint these children are encountered, no doubt, in the foster care system or other social work fields. In these fields the foster parents and caregivers are given help and advice on dealing with the emotional strain that they have been put through. It goes on to talk about just how the children have developed serious emotional issues and trauma from the abuse and neglect that occurs. The last two parts of the article discuss the differences in  home life between what would be an average household and those who are accustomed to the neglect that comes from a meth users household. The difference being that some may Have to take on responsibilities that most children don't like taking care of siblings, family members, regular meals, rules, bed times, etc. Finally it describes how some children become resourceful and can actually benefit from the experience.

Wrong Meth. 

It should be clear how the article and the book are related given that the books protagonist is handling the care taking  of her mother and siblings ("Another complication is that some of these children had taken on the role of caring for their parents, as well as younger siblings, when their parents were under the influence."). Battling with some emotional trauma, neglected by her parent but ultimately prevailing.  Along with developing some keen problem solving skills by exhibiting her unrelenting spirit and drive to help those she feels responsible to. She may ave had many setbacks along the path to righting what is clearly wrong becoming better for it in the end.
Sources:
Image: http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l34yb4Eg7m1qagkhko1_500.jpg
Article: http://alcoholism.about.com/od/meth/a/meth_kids.htm
"A Child's-Eye View of Parent Methamphetamine Abuse: Implications for Helping Foster Families to Succeed"

Heroes

My father always told me stories about running from the law for making what he called white lighting. He would come and go as he pleased, for some reason I always imagined the this lightning in a literal sense. When he was gone I conjured images of Zeus forging lightning high atop Mount Olympus. For obvious reasons, I was wrong, but damned if I didn't think it was heroic in my early years. All of this comes to mind at a rather inappropriate time, if not ironic, a trunk full of crank, a house forty miles away that is probably still on fire, and at least five cops on my tail, it's hard to count at a moment like this.
Even as I became old enough to realize that my father wasn't hammering out lightning bolts for months at a time, I still saw a man standing up to the law, like the Bandit sticking it to Beuford T. Justice in Smokey and the Bandit. Daring escapes and amicable rants between him and the dastardly and incompetent officers, it seemed so glamorous. I could never understand what made mamma cry when daddy would go away, god, I was dull. Something tells me I can't be all that heroic in the boy's eyes, "tweak" just doesn't resonate with a little boy like "white lightning".
I remember the last time I saw my father, I was ten, we were separated by an inch of glass, I had no idea it would be the last time. I told him about Albert Fisch throwing me in the mud. I didn't think it would be long, the good guy never stays down for long. I'm starting to realize that he was no hero, sad it dawns on me as I realize just how much of a failure I am. It doesn't matter at this point, the boy is far away, and after this ends I won't be seeing anyone for a very long time.