It was time to proclaim myself as a wounded healer
Recently I had dinner with a friend of mine who, decades ago, had sat on my doctoral dissertation committee. At one point we touched on my dissertation, which covered the health issues of Baltimore’s homeless teens.
“You always had an uncanny connection with homeless kids,” my friend said. “You really understood them.”
I gazed out the window, seeing the homeless people with their shopping carts in the park across the street.
Then I …
