Chicago. -- Mike Robinson, 16, hasn't seen his little sister, Tequiae, in a month. The last time he saw her was after the beating she received from a gang of girls. She went to Roseland Community Hospital for the knee injury she suffered. Then she disappeared.
Tequiae is probably hiding from "Folks," the nation of gangs responsible for beating her. A nation is the umbrella organization of a gang, controlling a network of many small gangs.
Tequiae is a "Sister," a gang under the nation of "Brothers," rival to "Folks." This 13-year-old has hidden for weeks at a time twice before as far away as possible from her home in the South Side of Chicago.
Since 1990 the number of female gang members has quadrupled. All-female gangs, like Tequiae's, are growing, according to the Community Youth Gang Services Project in Los Angeles. Female gangs are a nationwide trend, from Los Angeles and Chicago to Boston and Philadelphia.
Becket Bessolo, 28, program coordinator at Northwestern University's Women's Center, explains the emergence of girl gangs: "Now, in social peer groups, more and more young girls' identities aren't as attached to the boys they're dating." Instead of following their boyfriends into gangs, she says, girls are forming their own gangs.
Dawn Bryant, 25, a former "Folks" member, joined "just to be popular. Just to make people know. Show the fellas you can be like them." As a "Folks" member, she wore her baseball cap turned to the right. Her territory, known as "Kaytown," consisted of street names beginning with "K" or "C" in the West Side of Chicago.
Ms. Bryant said she fought only with her fists. But many girl gang members, like the boys, carry guns.
In a study conducted in 1993 on delinquency among inner-city adolescents, Jean E. Rhodes and Karla Fischer discovered girls and boys were arrested at an equivalent rate for assault and battery. This statistic doesn't surprise Adrienne Samuels, 16, a South Side Chicago resident.
"My friend Kime, who is a member of 'Folks,' was raped by this boy, Jason. The next day she came to school and beat him in the head with a baseball bat. After me and my best friend got Kime off the boy, 'Folks' girls jumped in and beat him up again," she said. She feared Kime and her gang would kill Jason.
"The actual fight between female gangbangers [gang members] is much more intense and out-to-kill than male gangbangers. When a woman really busts out and fights, she's out to kill," according to Ms. Bessolo.
Kime and Tequiae, although enemies, joined gangs for the same reason, "to create a family network," Ms. Bessolo suggested. Girls also join gangs because of low self-esteem. The network created by a gang makes it difficult to leave the "family." Dawn Bryant's gang involvement ended during high school when she went to school in a different area. When she returned to "Kaytown," she had grown out of the gang.
Growing up is a typical way to get out of a gang. "It's no longer cool to be 25 and in a gang. You grow out of it," Ms. Bessolo said.
Pregnancy is another way girls can get out of the gang without receiving punishment from their nation leader. "Pregnancy is an acceptable way to leave the gang. But sometimes pregnant girls stay in the gang for the family network, so their child can have a family," Ms. Bessolo said.
The gang family substitutes for an absent community. "They [the community] ain't doing nothing," Ms. Bryant said. "Around here we used to have a basketball tournament. Now we don't even have them. People are afraid they'll get shot."
Salem Baptist Church, located in Chicago's South Side, is trying to do something. "Gangs go after kids with low self-esteem, so we given them self-esteem," explained Elena Calloway, 44, the education coordinator at Jane Addams Hull House Association.
Because the gang members don't come to them, church members go out to the streets. "If we're walking through the neighborhood a lot of the people come back to hear the rest of the lesson. They're also attracted to the music," Ms. Calloway said.
Most of the gang members know about God, but they think the church is too traditional. Salem Baptist Church shows them that religion isn't just for adults, according to Ms. Calloway. The church helps the gang members get through school and find jobs. A church member even accompanies them to court, provided they're willing to change.
It isn't always easy to help the gang members change. "It's a change of mind and values to show a 13-year-old kid he doesn't need to make $500 a week, unless they want to end up at a funeral parlor or maimed," Ms. Calloway said.
Richard Pariser, of the Illinois State Police Gang Crimes Unit, agrees. Gang crime revolves around drugs and violence, he said, and it is difficult to help gang members because "That kid doesn't see life beyond 21."
Girl gang members are particularly difficult to help because they are more secretive about their activities, according to Ms. Calloway. She tries to teach the girls, like the boys, that each is special.
"My son carries a key-chain with a little Bible. He still likes football and the girls. Many of the girls in gangs are drawn to him because he treats them like ladies. They learn this is the way they deserve to be treated," she said.
Before teaching girls like Tequiae that they are special, it is often necessary to get them out of the neighborhood for their own safety. In such these cases, the church must contact the parents. Salem Baptist then tries to find a relative for the gang member to live with outside the neighborhood.
Gang members aren't representative of adolescent Americans. Generally speaking, about 80 per cent of high school students are well adjusted, according to Daniel Offer, a professor of psychiatry at Northwestern Medical School and director of its adolescent research program.
"Most kids do OK and grow up just like their parents did, But there are a large group of kids who have problems, and most of them don't get any help from adults. The question is, how to convince the kid in a meaningful way he can be helped," Dr. Offer said.
Ms. Calloway teaches gang members God is with them. "Gangs operate by fear, we operate by love."
Carrie Herschman, a senior at Dulaney High School, attended a journalism seminar at Northwestern University, where she researched this article. It is reprinted from the Dulaney school newspaper, The Griffin.