I've always believed that children are capable of understanding right from wrong long before they become adults.
That doesn't mean they always make the right decisions.
Good grief, plenty of adults don't manage that.
But sometimes a child demonstrates more common sense, moral courage, and understanding of human behavior than the grown-ups around her.
And one of my favorite examples comes from What's Happening!!
I remember the episode where Little Earl joined a gang called the Vultures and stole a necklace for Dee.
He wanted to impress her.
He wanted to belong.
And apparently he believed that becoming a member of a tough group would make him somebody important.
Unfortunately, he hadn't considered that Dee might have an entirely different opinion about what makes a person worth admiring.
And when she discovered what he'd done, she set him straight.
What impressed me wasn't simply that Dee told Earl stealing was wrong.
Any adult could have delivered that lecture.
What impressed me was that Dee understood why Earl had joined the gang in the first place, and she challenged the very idea that he needed a gang to feel important.
She was only fourteen.
Earl was nine.
And somehow, in the middle of a silly sitcom involving an ugly necklace, a surprise birthday party, and an unfortunate encounter with a jewelry-store manager, this young girl delivered a lesson about self-respect that plenty of adults could benefit from hearing.
I think that's worth revisiting.
Because children don't always get into trouble simply because they don't know right from wrong.
Sometimes they know perfectly well.
They just want so badly to be accepted that they're willing to ignore what they know.
And sometimes the person who can reach them isn't a parent, teacher, or authority figure.
It's someone whose opinion genuinely matters to them.
Dee's Fourteenth Birthday Was Supposed to Be About Presents, Not Police
The episode is called "A Present for Dee," and it aired February 9, 1979, during the third season of What's Happening!!
Dee Thomas, played by Danielle Spencer, is about to celebrate her fourteenth birthday.
Her older brother Roger, better known as Raj, is planning a surprise party with Rerun, Dwayne, and Shirley.
Of course, keeping a secret from Dee isn't particularly easy.
She has a remarkable ability to discover what everyone is doing, usually while making some smart remark that leaves the adults wondering how they lost control of the conversation.
And when she discovers the surprise, she's hardly devastated.
She simply makes sure there are enough guests to bring plenty of presents.
That's Dee.
She may be fourteen, but she's already thinking like a shrewd businesswoman.
Meanwhile, Little Earl, played by David Hollander, arrives with a gift for her.
He's wearing a jacket identifying him as a member of the Vultures.
Raj and the others notice.
They ask about the group.
And Earl proudly explains that he's joined a club whose philosophy essentially divides the world into those who dominate and those who get pushed around.
Now, I have a problem with that philosophy before we even get to the stolen necklace.
Because it teaches a child that there are only two possibilities.
Be intimidating.
Or be intimidated.
Be powerful.
Or be powerless.
Be somebody other people fear.
Or be somebody they can push around.
I don't believe that's how decent people should approach life.
And I certainly wouldn't want a nine-year-old boy growing up with the idea that kindness automatically makes him weak.
You don't have to become a bully to avoid becoming somebody else's victim.
But Earl is young, impressionable, and excited about belonging to something that makes him feel important.
He hasn't figured that out yet.
The Vultures Made Earl Feel Like Somebody
There's an interesting moment at Dee's birthday party.
Earl is enjoying himself.
He's dancing with Dee.
He's feeling rather grown-up.
And then Bobby Farrell, the leader of the Vultures, arrives.
Bobby demands that Earl leave the party for a gang meeting.
Earl initially hesitates.
After all, it's Dee's birthday.
He wants to stay.
But Bobby isn't interested in discussing it.
He's the leader.
He issues an order.
And Earl obeys.
Now, I think that moment tells us almost everything we need to know about the Vultures.
Earl believes he's become important by joining this group.
But what has he actually gained?
The privilege of following someone else's orders?
The opportunity to abandon a celebration he was enjoying because another boy told him to?
The chance to prove his loyalty by doing things he might otherwise consider wrong?
That's not independence.
And it isn't maturity.
It's dependence on a different authority.
Earl has simply traded his own judgment for the approval of someone who knows how to intimidate him.
I think this happens more often than people realize.
Children want to belong.
Teenagers want friends.
Adults want acceptance, too.
And sometimes people become so concerned about what a group thinks of them that they stop asking whether the group deserves their loyalty.
Being accepted by a group isn't automatically an achievement. It depends on what you have to become to earn that acceptance.
And poor Little Earl was about to discover that lesson the hard way.
The Necklace Was Ugly Enough. Then Dee Found Out It Was Stolen.
After the party, Dee examines her presents.
Among them is the necklace Earl gave her.
And to put it kindly, she's not impressed.
Neither is Rerun.
The necklace is spectacularly unattractive.
Dee doesn't want to hurt Earl's feelings, so she decides to take it back to the store and exchange it.
Now, there's something wonderfully funny about Dee's reasoning.
She wants to do the decent thing by protecting Earl's feelings.
But she's also perfectly willing to return his gift and get something she actually wants.
I appreciate the practicality.
Unfortunately, the plan goes terribly wrong.
When Dee brings the necklace to the jewelry store, the manager, Mr. Bradford, asks for a receipt.
She doesn't have one.
After all, it was a birthday present.
Then he examines the necklace and discovers that it was stolen.
And suddenly Dee finds herself accused of shoplifting.
Imagine that.
You're fourteen years old.
You've just celebrated your birthday.
You go to exchange an ugly piece of jewelry.
And now somebody's threatening to call the police.
I'd be furious.
Dee certainly is.
She insists that someone gave her the necklace.
But the manager wants to know who.
And here's where the story becomes morally complicated.
Dee doesn't want to get Earl into trouble.
So she refuses to identify him.
I understand why.
She cares about him.
She knows he's a little boy.
And she doesn't want to be responsible for something terrible happening to him.
But I also think she makes a mistake.
Protecting someone from every consequence of his behavior isn't necessarily the same thing as helping him.
Especially when the person you're protecting has done something that could get you into serious trouble.
And Dee nearly learns that lesson at her own expense.
Raj and Shirley Tried to Protect Dee Without Exposing Earl
The situation gets even more ridiculous when the manager insists on contacting Dee's parents.
Dee gives him a phone number that reaches Raj.
And Raj, desperate to keep the problem from upsetting their mother, decides to handle it himself.
Unfortunately, the manager wants both parents present.
So Raj recruits Shirley to pretend she's his wife.
Now, I love Shirley.
Played by Shirley Hemphill, she had a way of making practically every scene funnier simply by opening her mouth.
And the sight of Raj and Shirley pretending to be Dee's parents is exactly the sort of ridiculous comedy What's Happening!! did so well.
They attempt to sound like a respectable married couple.
They invent affectionate nicknames.
And they try to convince Mr. Bradford that Dee isn't a thief.
Meanwhile, Dee knows perfectly well who gave her the necklace.
Raj and Shirley eventually discover that she suspects Earl stole it.
But she still doesn't want to identify him.
So they try another solution.
They offer to pay for the necklace.
The manager initially complains that people are always trying to buy their way out of trouble.
Then he discovers they're prepared to pay cash.
And suddenly he's a little more cooperative.
The price?
$39.37.
Thirty-nine dollars and thirty-seven cents.
For a necklace nobody even liked.
I have to laugh.
But underneath the comedy, there's a serious question.
Why should Dee be responsible for the cost of something Earl stole?
Why should Raj and Shirley have to intervene?
And why should Earl be allowed to avoid the consequences simply because his friends want to protect him?
I don't think he should.
And fortunately, neither does Dee.
Dee Didn't Let Earl Get Away With His Little Crime
Once the problem at the jewelry store is resolved, Dee confronts Earl.
He arrives expecting her to be delighted with his birthday present.
Instead, she presents him with the bill.
And I absolutely love that.
Because Dee isn't about to pretend nothing happened.
She almost got into serious trouble because of his actions.
Someone had to pay for the necklace.
And Earl needs to understand that stealing isn't a harmless little favor simply because he intended to give the stolen property to someone he liked.
There's an important distinction here.
Earl's affection for Dee may have been genuine.
But the gift wasn't something he'd earned or purchased.
He took it.
And in doing so, he created a problem for the very person he was trying to impress.
Good intentions don't erase the harm caused by a bad decision.
I think children need to understand that.
And adults do, too.
Sometimes people defend their behavior by explaining that they meant well.
They were trying to help.
They wanted to make someone happy.
Or they believed their actions would produce a good outcome.
But intentions don't eliminate consequences.
If you take something that doesn't belong to you, it's still stealing.
If you lie to protect someone, the lie can still create problems.
And if your attempt to impress somebody puts that person in danger of being accused of a crime, perhaps you need to reconsider your definition of romance.
Especially when you're nine.
Dee makes Earl explain himself.
And eventually he admits the truth.
He stole the necklace as part of his initiation into the Vultures.
Now we understand.
The necklace wasn't primarily about Dee.
It was about Earl proving himself to the group.
And that's where the real lesson begins.
Dee Understood That Earl Didn't Need the Gang. He Needed Self-Respect.
When Dee asks why Earl went along with the initiation, he explains that he wanted to belong.
He wanted to be part of the Vultures.
They made him feel important.
And eventually he reveals something even more troubling.
Being a Vulture makes him feel like a man.
Now, I find that heartbreaking.
Because Earl is nine years old.
Nine!
He shouldn't have to prove his manhood to anybody.
He should be enjoying school, friends, games, and the ordinary experiences of childhood.
Instead, he's allowing a group of boys to determine whether he's worthy of respect.
And apparently their definition of maturity includes stealing costume jewelry.
Wonderful.
I'm sure that's going to look impressive on his future résumé.
But Dee sees through it.
She understands that Earl is confusing acceptance with personal worth.
And she refuses to cooperate with that idea.
She gives the necklace back to him.
She tells him she doesn't want to wear a gift from someone who needs gang approval to feel important.
And she contrasts that with a younger child who could feel good about himself simply because he's a decent person and somebody genuinely likes him.
I think that is an extraordinary lesson for a fourteen-year-old to deliver.
Dee wasn't telling Earl that he was worthless because he'd made a mistake. She was telling him that he didn't need the Vultures to become somebody worth respecting.
That's a completely different message.
And I think it reaches Earl because it addresses the insecurity underneath his behavior.
He doesn't really need a gang.
He needs to feel valued.
He needs to believe that he matters.
And he needs to understand that belonging to something frightening doesn't automatically make him impressive.
Dee recognizes all of that.
Without a psychology degree.
Without a parenting manual.
And without being old enough to drive.
That's what impressed me.
She Didn't Lecture Him About Crime. She Challenged His Idea of Being Important.
I think adults sometimes make a mistake when correcting children.
We focus entirely on the behavior.
Don't steal.
Don't lie.
Don't cheat.
Don't associate with the wrong people.
And of course those rules matter.
But sometimes we need to ask why the child made the decision in the first place.
Earl didn't steal because he desperately needed a necklace.
He wasn't stealing food because he was hungry.
He wasn't stealing to provide for his family.
He stole because a group demanded it as proof that he belonged.
That matters.
Because simply telling Earl that stealing is wrong might not have addressed the pressure he felt.
He could have understood the moral rule perfectly and still believed he had to violate it to remain a Vulture.
Dee goes further.
She challenges the supposed reward.
What exactly is Earl getting from this group?
Approval?
Recognition?
The feeling of being important?
And why should he need Bobby Farrell's approval when he already has people who care about him?
That's a much more powerful question.
Because it changes the calculation.
Earl no longer has to choose between being somebody and being nobody.
He begins realizing that he already matters.
And that his friends aren't going to admire him more because he's joined a group that encourages stealing.
The best way to resist peer pressure isn't simply knowing how to say no. It's understanding why the approval you're being offered isn't worth the price you're being asked to pay.
That's what Dee taught him.
And I think it's a lesson that applies well beyond childhood.
Earl Wanted to Impress Dee, and She Made Her Approval Mean Something
There's another important detail.
Little Earl has a crush on Dee.
He calls her affectionate names.
He enjoys being around her.
And he clearly cares what she thinks.
Now, I have to smile at that.
Because Dee is fourteen.
Earl is nine.
He's practically a baby as far as she's concerned.
But in Earl's mind, he's a sophisticated young man who has joined a tough gang and presented his beloved with an expensive necklace.
Unfortunately, Dee isn't impressed.
And that's what gives her words so much influence.
She isn't a stranger.
She's someone Earl already admires.
Someone whose opinion matters to him.
When she challenges his behavior, he listens.
That doesn't mean she's obligated to reciprocate his feelings.
Of course she isn't.
And I don't think affection should be used as a way to control another person.
But there's a difference between manipulating someone and honestly telling him that you cannot admire what he's doing.
Dee doesn't tell Earl that he has to become somebody else to earn her respect.
She tells him, in effect, that the decent little boy she already likes is worth far more than the imitation tough guy he's trying to become.
I appreciate that.
Because sometimes the most effective person to deliver a moral lesson is the one whose respect the child genuinely wants to keep.
I explored a related idea in my article about Wayne Arnold giving Wart the shirt off his back on The Wonder Years.
Wayne couldn't undo what his friend had experienced, but he could remind him that he wasn't alone and hadn't lost his place among people who cared about him.
Dee offers Earl a similar form of reassurance, although she's considerably more blunt about it.
He doesn't need to perform toughness to be valued.
He already has a place in her life as himself.
The right friends don't make you prove your worth by doing something wrong. They remind you of your worth when you've temporarily forgotten it.
And that's the kind of friendship I admire.
Dee Wasn't Gentle, but She Was Trying to Reach Him
Now, I don't want to pretend that Dee delivered her lesson with the delicate sensitivity of a professional counselor.
She didn't.
This is Dee Thomas.
She could be sarcastic.
She could be sharp.
And she had a remarkable ability to make a person feel about two inches tall with one well-aimed remark.
When she confronts Earl, she doesn't simply pat him on the shoulder and suggest that he reconsider his extracurricular activities.
She ridicules the idea that a nine-year-old boy becomes a man by joining the Vultures.
She challenges him.
And she makes it clear that she isn't impressed.
Could she have spoken more gently?
Perhaps.
I wouldn't encourage adults to humiliate children who are already insecure.
And I certainly wouldn't want someone to believe that shame is the best way to correct every mistake.
But I also recognize that Dee knew Earl.
She understood his personality.
She understood what he was trying to accomplish.
And she recognized that he needed to hear something strong enough to challenge the importance he'd attached to gang membership.
What I appreciate most is that she doesn't leave him with nothing.
She offers a better definition of respect.
She makes it clear that being decent matters more than pretending to be tough.
And Earl responds.
He decides to leave the Vultures.
Or, in his own wonderfully comic description, to remove himself from the whole Vulture business.
I love that.
Because it demonstrates that Dee didn't merely embarrass him.
She changed his thinking.
Earl Didn't Just Quit the Vultures. He Faced the Consequences.
Here's the part I think makes the episode especially worthwhile.
Earl doesn't simply promise Dee that he'll never steal again and walk away with everything forgotten.
He eventually goes to the jewelry store.
He faces Mr. Bradford.
And he accepts responsibility for what he's done.
The solution involves working at the store, washing windows until he's paid off the cost of the necklace.
Now, I like that.
Because accountability shouldn't end with a promise.
Sometimes making things right requires action.
If you break something, you may need to repair or replace it.
If you take something, you need to return it or make restitution.
If you hurt someone, you need to acknowledge the harm.
And if your behavior creates a financial problem for someone else, you shouldn't simply assume that person will absorb the cost.
Earl's willingness to work off the debt demonstrates that he's learned something practical.
He can't simply rely on Dee, Raj, and Shirley to rescue him whenever he makes a foolish decision.
He has responsibilities.
And he needs to honor them.
I made a similar argument in my article about Punky Brewster cheating on a test and Mike Fulton refusing to give her an easy way out.
Mike understood that Punky needed an opportunity to demonstrate honesty and effort without pretending the original cheating hadn't happened.
Earl needed something similar.
Not a lifelong label of thief.
Not a lecture about how he'd ruined his future at nine years old.
But a reasonable opportunity to take responsibility and correct what he could.
A good consequence should teach a child how to make things right, not simply convince him that he's a bad person.
And I think Earl's window-washing arrangement provides a much better ending than simply frightening him with the possibility of punishment.
But Dee Shouldn't Have Had to Handle a Gang Problem All by Herself
Now, here's where I'd challenge the episode a little.
Dee was fourteen.
Earl was nine.
And the Vultures were a group encouraging children to steal as part of their initiation.
That's serious.
I appreciate Dee's courage and common sense.
I admire the fact that she reached Earl.
But I wouldn't want the lesson to be that children should take responsibility for rescuing other children from dangerous groups all by themselves.
They shouldn't.
In real life, walking away from a gang or an intimidating peer group may not be as simple as announcing that you're leaving.
Some groups may retaliate.
Some children may be threatened.
And a child who wants out may need responsible adults to help keep him safe.
That's why I would have wanted Raj and the other adults to take an active interest in what was happening with Earl and the Vultures.
They noticed the jacket.
They heard Earl describe the group's philosophy.
They saw Bobby Farrell ordering him around.
And they had reason to be concerned.
Dee's influence was valuable.
But adult involvement still mattered.
Children can teach one another important lessons without being made responsible for solving dangerous problems that adults should address.
And I think that's an important distinction.
I examined a related concern in my article about Opie Taylor and whether parents should expect children to fight back against bullies.
Children need confidence and judgment.
But they also need to know that asking a trustworthy adult for help isn't cowardice.
Sometimes it's the wisest thing they can do.
And if Earl had been unable to leave the Vultures safely, I would have wanted him to seek help rather than attempt to prove his courage alone.
The Moral Courage of a Fourteen-Year-Old
What keeps drawing me back to this episode is Dee herself.
She was fourteen.
She wasn't a parent.
She wasn't a teacher.
And she certainly wasn't a perfect child.
She could be mischievous, sarcastic, and occasionally a little too pleased with her own cleverness.
But when Earl began making choices that could seriously harm him, she recognized the problem.
She didn't admire his gang jacket.
She wasn't impressed by the stolen necklace.
And she didn't treat the Vultures as something glamorous.
Instead, she recognized that Earl was getting involved with people who encouraged him to behave badly.
And she challenged him.
I think that's remarkable.
Especially because children sometimes have a very difficult time speaking up when their friends do something wrong.
They don't want to be unpopular.
They don't want to appear judgmental.
And they don't want to lose the friendship.
So they remain silent.
Or worse, they participate.
But Dee didn't.
She was willing to risk Earl's disappointment.
She was willing to tell him something he didn't want to hear.
And she didn't confuse being kind with approving of his choices.
That's a distinction I wish more people understood.
A good friend isn't someone who approves of everything you do. Sometimes it's the person who cares enough to tell you when you're heading in the wrong direction.
And I think Dee demonstrated that beautifully.
What Jewish Wisdom Says About Respect and Knowing Your Worth
There's a teaching in Pirkei Avot 4:1 that comes to mind whenever I think about Earl and the Vultures.
Ben Zoma asks who is truly worthy of honor.
And the answer points toward the person who honors others.
I think that's a much better standard than the one Earl was learning from Bobby Farrell.
The Vultures seemed to associate importance with intimidation.
If people feared you, you mattered.
If you belonged to the toughest group, you were somebody.
If you could follow orders and demonstrate that you weren't afraid to break the rules, you earned approval.
But none of that necessarily makes someone honorable.
A person can intimidate everybody around him and still lack character.
He can belong to an exclusive group and still behave disgracefully.
And he can be admired by his peers for doing something that should never have been done in the first place.
That's why I like the lesson Dee offered.
She wasn't asking Earl how many people were afraid of him.
She was asking him to consider what made him worthy of genuine respect.
There's also a teaching in Pirkei Avot 1:6 about the importance of having a teacher, finding a friend, and judging others fairly.
I think the friendship aspect is especially relevant.
Because the people we choose to associate with can influence how we behave.
A good friend can help us recognize our better qualities.
A bad influence can encourage us to abandon them.
And sometimes we discover the difference when we're asked to do something that conflicts with our values.
That's exactly what happened to Earl.
The Vultures asked him to steal.
Dee asked him to remember who he was.
And he had to decide which relationship deserved his loyalty.
To me, being a mensch isn't about impressing people with status, power, or intimidation.
It's about behaving decently.
Being honest.
Respecting others.
And having enough self-respect to refuse the approval of people who want you to behave badly.
You don't become important by joining a group that makes you feel superior to others. You become worthy of respect through the way you treat people.
And I think Dee understood that better than the boys calling themselves the Vultures.
What I Would Have Told Little Earl
If Earl were sitting across from me, proudly explaining that he'd become a Vulture, I'd want to ask him a few questions.
What do you like about the group?
Do you enjoy spending time with the boys?
Do they treat you kindly?
Can you disagree with them?
And what happens if they ask you to do something you know is wrong?
Because those questions reveal a lot about whether a group is worth joining.
If Earl told me that he had to steal something to gain membership, I'd want him to consider why that was necessary.
Why would decent friends require him to risk getting into trouble?
Why would they expect him to hurt someone else's interests simply to prove his loyalty?
And why should he have to demonstrate his willingness to break rules before being accepted?
I'd also ask him something Dee understood instinctively.
Did the Vultures make him feel important because they genuinely cared about him?
Or because they'd convinced him that he wasn't important without them?
That's a very different kind of belonging.
One is friendship.
The other is dependence on approval.
I'd want Earl to know that he didn't have to become a criminal, a bully, or a little imitation tough guy to be someone worth liking.
He could simply be Earl.
A funny, affectionate, slightly mischievous nine-year-old boy who wanted to give Dee a birthday present.
And if he couldn't afford an expensive necklace?
So what?
A handmade card would have been fine.
A small gift he'd saved for would have been fine.
Even a sincere birthday greeting would have been more meaningful than something he'd stolen.
The value of a gift doesn't come from how impressive it looks. It comes partly from the thought, honesty, and consideration behind it.
And I think Earl needed that reminder.
I Wish More Television Shows Let Children Teach the Lesson
One of the things I appreciate about older family television is that children weren't always treated as passive recipients of adult wisdom.
Sometimes the children taught the adults something.
Sometimes they corrected each other.
And sometimes they demonstrated values they had already learned through their experiences.
I don't mean that adults should stop guiding children.
Quite the opposite.
Children need trustworthy adults who teach them right from wrong.
But the purpose of teaching isn't simply to produce children who can repeat the rules.
It's to help them develop the judgment to apply those rules in real situations.
And that's what Dee did.
She recognized a harmful influence.
She understood why Earl was drawn to it.
And she found a way to challenge his thinking.
Now, I wouldn't suggest that every fourteen-year-old could accomplish what Dee accomplished.
And I don't believe one conversation is always enough to help a child leave a dangerous group.
Real life is more complicated than a sitcom.
But the principle remains valuable.
Children can develop strong moral judgment.
They can recognize when someone is being led astray.
And they can sometimes make a meaningful difference simply by refusing to participate in wrongdoing.
I wrote about this larger responsibility in my article on why television should still teach us something.
Not every child has a parent or teacher who explains these things clearly.
Not every child has someone who helps him understand the difference between friendship and peer pressure.
And not every young person has been taught that being accepted by the wrong people can be far more harmful than being rejected by them.
That's why I think episodes like "A Present for Dee" are worth remembering.
They turn a simple sitcom plot into a lesson viewers can carry with them.
And they do it without making the characters deliver a formal lecture.
My Verdict: Dee Was Only Fourteen, but She Knew What Made Someone Worth Respecting
I still admire Dee Thomas for what she did.
She had every reason to be angry with Earl.
He stole a necklace.
He gave it to her.
And when she tried to exchange it, she nearly got into serious trouble.
Somebody had to pay for it.
And Earl had to take responsibility.
But Dee didn't stop at making him repay the money.
She recognized that the real problem was deeper.
Earl wanted to belong.
He wanted to feel important.
And he'd begun believing that joining a tough group was the way to accomplish both.
So Dee challenged that belief.
She made it clear that she wasn't impressed by the Vultures.
She didn't admire stealing.
And she preferred the decent little boy she'd known before he decided he needed a gang to make him somebody.
And Earl listened.
He left the Vultures.
He faced the store manager.
And he accepted the consequences of stealing the necklace.
That's a pretty good outcome for a boy who'd been taking orders from Bobby Farrell.
But the part I find most impressive is Dee's understanding of human worth.
She was fourteen.
She wasn't particularly interested in pretending to be a wise adult.
And she could be every bit as cheeky as the other children around her.
Yet she recognized something many people take years to understand.
You don't become more valuable because the right people approve of you. And you don't become less valuable because the wrong people don't.
At fifty-one, I still think that's one of the most important lessons we can teach children.
Because the desire to fit in doesn't disappear when childhood ends.
Adults join groups for the wrong reasons, too.
They tolerate behavior they know is unacceptable.
They compromise their values to preserve relationships.
And they sometimes measure their worth according to whether certain people consider them important.
Earl's mistake wasn't simply that he stole a necklace.
It was that he had begun letting somebody else decide what kind of person he needed to become.
And Dee helped him see that.
I wouldn't suggest she handled every aspect perfectly.
She initially concealed Earl's involvement and nearly got herself into serious trouble protecting him.
And in real life, a child involved with a dangerous gang may need much more help than a stern conversation from a friend.
But I admire her willingness to speak up.
I admire her belief that Earl could do better.
And I especially admire the fact that she didn't confuse caring about him with approving of what he'd done.
She held him accountable without deciding that one bad choice made him a bad child.
That's the balance I appreciate.
And that's what I think decent friends, parents, and teachers should try to accomplish.
Correct the behavior.
Explain why it matters.
Offer a better path.
And remind the person that he doesn't have to continue making the same mistake to preserve his dignity.
Earl thought joining the Vultures would make him a man.
But it took a fourteen-year-old girl to explain what being somebody worth respecting actually meant.
And frankly?
I think Dee handled that better than plenty of adults would have.
Even if she did end up with a rather expensive lesson about accepting birthday presents from nine-year-old gang members.
At least she got Earl back.
And I'd say that was worth considerably more than $39.37.
