This is a story about a good young man, full of promise, who made a really bad decision. Like many such tales, it involves a Black young man - only this one is not African American. He is an immigrant, brought to America by his mother, a woman who left her life and family, her language and her culture, back in Rwanda, moving with her children to America, so they could have a better life.

His mother named him King. And he turned out to be a prince of a boy, tall, handsome, athletic, with a smile that could light up a room. King was sweet, good-natured, never angry. All through high school he stayed out of trouble. He was a star soccer player. His classmates and team-mates loved him, his coaches and his teachers loved him, his doctor loved him. He was just such a magnetic person, you couldn’t help but smile when you were around him. He graduated from high school this past June, full of promise.

The family didn’t have much money. They lived in a pretty upscale town, but subsidized housing made it affordable, and his mother was delighted that the kids could attend a good public high school. 

For a few weeks at the end of senior year, King started hanging around with a different crowd. His mother was worried about him, he didn’t seem right. She asked him what was wrong.

One day a kid knocked on King’s door and invited him out. King went. They drove down to Boston and met up with some other young men. These guys were big trouble. That night they drove around, robbing stores in different towns, using bebe guns. King, over 18 years old, was arrested on multiple counts of armed robbery.

His picture hit the newspapers and TV news. His mother thought she was going to die.

The court-appointed lawyer, by all accounts, would not be much help. Getting a good private lawyer was his mother’s only hope of getting her son the representation he needed to avoid serious jail time. His coach found him a good lawyer, but the cost was $30,000. His mother had no money at all.

The lawyer, after visiting King in jail, lowered his fee to $20,000. He told the mother, I want to help your son.

Her church raised $5000 to help. I know I am not alone she prays, I know I will survive this. I don’t have money, but I have God.

But she is still short $15,000.

Now this is not a simple story. King did a bad thing. And he should absolutely have known better. But everyone who knows King wants him to have another chance. It is unbearable to think about what going to jail will do to that kid. How that sweet smile might be forever wiped off his face, replaced by the hardened grimace of an ex-con.

This young man, King Shema, graduated from Newburyport High School last month. He was my son’s classmate. He is my patient. I know his mother, I know his sister. We have discussed the Rwanda connection that we share, exchanged photos. 

Should King be held responsible for the mistakes that he made? Absolutely. Will a long jail sentence make amends, will it help King to become a better person? I fear not. I fear the opposite.

Once in a while a person touches your life and gives you the gift of making a difference. For me, King Shema is that person. I am King’s pediatrician. I am not judge or jury. I am not trying to obstruct justice or avoid due process. I simply want King to get a decent lawyer, who can represent him fairly when his day in court arrives. And then I will pray that he gets a second chance.