another bleeding heart liberal

That's me. You can see my 8 1/2 minutes of fame here.

I watch myself and I think not only "Wow, how alarming it is to see my head that big!" but also, wow, I really sound like what they'd call a "bleeding heart liberal."

But then I hear stories like the one I heard last night about a little boy I'll call James, and I think there ought to be a lot more hearts bleeding.

James is eight years old and has been in foster care since his birth here in Oakland to a mother addicted to crack cocaine. Shortly before Christmas, James was playing at recess with other kids in his special education class, and he leapt from the top of the sliding board, shattering his femur and his hip.

It's not easy for an eight-year-old to break a hip. Unless they have no calcium in their bones. Unless they haven't been fed at all for years except through the school lunch program.

After his fall, his teacher (and one of my personal heros, inner-city special ed teacher Katherine Fishman-Weaver) carried him into the office and spent more than two hours, as James lapsed in and out of consciousness, calling his foster family, trying to find someone who cared enough about him to okay medical treatment.

Eventually, the principal made the call to send James to the hospital without a guardian's okay. He was placed in a cast from his knees to above his waist, rendering him unable to sit up. It was then that his foster mother of eight years decided she didn't want him any more.

So James is recuperating in a group home, a ward of the state, with no one to bring him stuffed toys or comic books, no one to play games with him, no one even to help him turn over.

And we wonder why Oakland is the murder and crime capital of the country, when this is what happens to the kids who are trying to grow up there.

Yeah, there ought to be a lot more hearts bleeding. We ought to be drowning in blood and tears, as far as I'm concerned.