"4/15/96 continued-return trip from the food stamp workshop"

Lucy, the workshop leader, went on to tell us attendees: (I paraphrase)

 "If you are claiming that you shot someone because you lost your temper and your finger slipped on the trigger, they might not hire you!"

I don't think this applies to me!   The whites who were in attendance never breathed a word for the entire workshop, they were probably afraid to. 

During my commute both to and fro I felt terrified and was having chest pain and panic attacks.    I'd consider complying and attending future workshops if I could afford a cab, but I cant afford one. 

On the commute home I looked out from Edison Highway and saw: burned out rowhouses, and broken glass.  How can I or anyone for that matter thrive in an environment like this?