Breaking the Cycle by Zane Page B

flower child named Margaret. A tall, thin brunette with a thick, New England accent, Margaret Reilly was known as Peggy, and she hailed from a large, protective, affluent, Boston, Irish-Catholic family. When Peggy came to New York, she was fresh from Brown University and her equally sheltered environment. She had never had much exposure to black people, other than her family servants. When she became a social worker in the horrific New York welfare system, Peggy was both amazed and appalled. Tenements, rat-infested apartments and boarded-up buildings were a culture shock to her. The conditions she encountered on a daily basis sometimes left her shaking and unhinged, but she was determined to make a difference in the lives of the families she worked with. Her other Ivy League friends thought that she had taken leave of her senses for subjecting herself to such an unpleasant lifestyle. They figured that she’d last a few weeks against the rigors and lackluster reward of working for the system. And if that didn’t do it, they knew that she’d run back home to her family’s expansive Cape Cod home after stepping over bums to get to her small hovel of an apartment in the heart of grimy Greenwich Village. Peggy, unwavering in her own quiet way, refused to bow to the pressure her family and friends heaped on her. Her boyfriend of several years even threatened to break up with her if she refused to find a more suitable job, like an administrative assistant or secretary.
    Peggy defied them all, and delved even harder into the public assistance programs. That’s when she met Carl. He was a proud, tall, stocky, black man, who wore a huge Afro and vivid dashikis. He was a former Black Panther, who tirelessly worked in the boroughs and neighborhoods of New York, seeking change and spearheading protests. At their chance encounter, Carl was heading up a “Breakfast for the Kids” program in Brooklyn.
    Even though Carl had never dated a white woman before, he was instantly intrigued by Peggy. Her naiveté and humble demeanor were appealing to his brusque, streetwise manner, and the diversity of their backgrounds was both appealing and confusing. For Carl, there was an underlying motive for brothers who got involved with white women. It was one way that the black men had of “getting back at the Man.” Even if it meant that it would cause further harm or danger to them, it was worth it. It afforded him the opportunity to antagonize “Whitey.” To really “stick it to the Man.”
    Carl’s and Peggy’s paths crossed again when Peggy came to check on one of the children in Carl’s program, and their attraction was undeniable. For Peggy, Carl represented everything foreign and exciting. He was big, Black, dangerous and rebellious. To Carl, Peggy was a trophy. She was educated, humble and committed to a cause that even unnerved him sometimes. Theirs was an interesting union, one fueled by titillation, irony, passion, and anger. And Carl dominated Peggy, who willingly submitted to his wrath and contempt like she owed it to him. Or to his kind.
    Despite the success Carl had working with the various community groups and social programs, Carl became increasingly discontent with the low pay, and sought greater status for his hard work ethic. He was a very bright man, and finished college at Columbia University, with honors. He continued working and even took an entry-level white collar job in the financial district as a data entry clerk. Peggy kept working as a social worker, while Carl went to school at night. Frustrated with his inability to advance at work, Carl took almost five years, but he graduated, with honors, from SUNY with his M.B.A., and was ready to take on the world.
    Dawn was born on a snowy day: December 15, 1972. A beautiful complexion, with a head full of curly locks, Dawn was a gorgeous baby. Peggy became a full-time housewife, and the family moved out to Mount Vernon. Dawn was the apple of her father’s eye, and the