On the way to church one beautiful spring morning we pulled up to an intersection where there are often panhandlers (I’m starting to think that is probably not the politically correct term, but it certainly is descriptive). I used to try to stay in the outside lane so as to avoid them. That day,there was an elderly black man at the corner who was very happy to receive lunch #5 and I was happy to willingly engage rather than guiltily avoid him.
Looking back, I’m glad that several of the lunches were given away on the way to church. When we first moved into our ward ten years ago, we were a bit shocked at the location of the building, and perhaps more particularly, the areas of town we drive through to get to it. It was a real eye opener as to the level of poverty that many of our fellow citizens lived in. Without a reason to engage in it, we would likely have remained fairly ignorant of the “two Americas” phenomenon happening just a few miles from our home. It’s one thing to see homeless adults sleeping under an interstate overpass, and its another thing to see whole city blocks of decrepit houses, many boarded up or falling down, stray dogs, people walking down the street in blankets for lack of a coat. Frankly, our Ride to Church sometimes feels like entering a third world country. The contrast to our Ride to School, in which we pass a well-kept shopping center, a city park, a golf course, and several neighborhoods of stately multi-million dollar homes, is striking.
Our family lives on the fulcrum of these two extremes, and neither are particularly comfortable for us. We (and our children) have had to learn to be gracious guests at both cockroach-infested decrepit apartments and mansions where we are served by The Help. Having exposure to all sorts of people living in all sorts of circumstances has been a good experience for me- and my children. What about you? Do you ever feel cocooned in suburbia? Did you rush to escape a poverty-stricken childhood? Have you had to live through life changes that pulled you out of more comfortable circumstances into more modest ones? Have you ever had your eyes opened to the materially poor against your will?
Yes, to all of those questions. I’ve never experinced chronic poverty in my person but have come close enough in some instances to fear it. We’re pretty cocooned in an affluent community but situated more as cling-ons than as full-fledged members. I wanted this kind of thing for my kids — and there are clear advantages and opportunites to being roadies to the affluent. I’m not saying we’re hating it, just that by contrast we’re among the relative poor in our community. I think that relative relationship is valuable.
The idea of not being surrounded by equals seems key to a rich human experience. Claire, your mission to engage those who could use your help seems just the right kind of thng. And your approach is neither condescending nor hollow, which is admirable. Thank you for your messages — they fill me with a sense of hope.
Claire, this post really struck me. We felt like we lived on both extremes when we were in Baton Rouge. Less so now.
Our girls attended a public magnet school that was about 75% black when Kennedy first attended. There were just two white kids in her class (her and one other girl). 75-80% of the kids qualified for free and reduced lunch (mostly free). Some of those kids had tough, tough lives. I remember picking her up one day from kindergarten and she told me that they had been talking in class about how sometimes you make mistakes and your parents punish you. One girl volunteered that her mom had whipped her bare bottom with a hanger the night before. Apparently, the girl had done something of a demonstration, wildly acting out what her mom had done, and Kennedy was shocked. Just shocked. As was I as she told me the story. Another boy’s mom had told him “I just can’t deal with you anymore” and had abandoned him to live with his grandmother. When I heard that story, I remember thinking: “What does it do to a kid’s psyche to have his MOM tell him she can’t stand to live with him anymore?”
Meanwhile, we were tucked into our expensive house that Brent had contracted himself about 1/2 a mile away from the LSU campus. Winding streets, beautiful massive oak trees overhanging the streets, hardwood floors, granite counter tops (I’m cringing even now as I write this) . . . Our girls often didn’t fit in because their lives were very different from those of their friends. Often when I went to school meetings early on, I definitely felt the pain/discomfort of being an outsider. But we spent 6 years at that school. I ended up spending two years there doing research for my dissertation. And over the course of those six years, I became one of them. Those people–the teachers, the principal, the parents, the kids–they felt like my family. I was in the teacher’s lounge once and a long-term sub was talking about how bad the kids were. She kept saying “Those kids this” and “Those kids that.” I finally interjected and said: “Hey. You’re talking about MY kids.” She said: “Oh, no. I’m not talking about YOUR kids. YOUR kids are great. It’s all the other kids.” And I said: “No. You ARE talking about MY kids. They’re all my kids.”
I was just sick to have to move away from there. My experiences there profoundly changed me as a person.
And to think that some people (a LOT of people in Baton Rouge) try to shield their kids from having those kinds of experiences by sending them to private schools. For shame . . .
Sorry for hijacking your thread. This subject cuts right to my core.
Heather, absolutely no apologies necessary. Thanks for your comments and sharing your experience at the school. I choked up reading your comments to the sub. I think I know the feeling.
I have some *VERY* strong feelings about living in a “third-world country” (aka, Claire drives through my neighborhood on her way to church.) I’m going to step back, try to compose my thoughts, and return if I have time. What people see when they drive through is the surface – go deeper into the neighborhoods and you will find something very different, and these misperceptions are detrimental to the residents. It’s very frustrating to read accounts of those who are well-off economically, who are able to live in upper-class neighborhoods and who are somewhat insulated from this kind of thing on a daily basis. It’s a hot button for me, if you can’t tell. :)
VirtualM, thanks for engaging… I hope you will come back. I anticipated this on some level when I composed this post- and want to point out that I had to generalize somewhat to make my simple point in a less than 500 word blog post.
What I was trying to get at is that our ward is sort of a microcosm of America all in one ward. The neighborhoods I was writing about are not yours- but it’s true that some of the most crime ridden and poverty stricken neighborhoods in Atlanta are within the ward boundaries. So are some of the most affluent. By a combination of factors, but mostly luck, we live closer to the affluent ones. But my street has some fairly dilapidated rental homes on it too- it’s not like I live in a gated community of McMansions or on Habersham.
I’ve been in the homes of dozens of families in our ward- from the very well-off (less often) to the desperately poor who have family members in prison and whose only income, EVER, has been government assistance (more often). What I was trying to get at was that although at first we were somewhat surprised, we CHOSE to live in the ward boundaries because we LIKE the variety and the diversity. I’m GLAD that we are able to ‘keep it real’ by learning to love people we might not otherwise come into contact with if we lived in a gated community and were corporate drones/tennis clubbers in the suburbs. I don’t WANT to be insulated from it. I’ve really grown from the opportunity to engage it (on some level).
I’m not sure I’m able to say this without sounding ‘colonial.’ Sorry- I think maybe Heather is getting it across better than I am.
I think I came off a little strong – I apologize for that. It’s not directed at you – I just get tired of the misconceptions surrounding ‘anything south of I-20’, or the attitude that if you exit the freeway between I-20 and the airport, you’re going to get shot. My neighborhood is a really unique place and we love it; we both feel very strongly that we were meant to live in our house (we even had to kick a squatter out of our crawlspace and that didn’t scare us away.) A lot of amazing people choose to live in some of these neighborhoods (even people who could afford a McMansion) because of the energy and vibe, proximity to everything in the city, and, let’s face it, the affordability of beautiful turn-of-the century Victorian homes.
I agree about our ward – it’s unlike any other ward and does span a wide range of socioeconomic groups and actually does embrace some of the diversity that many wards lack. This does come with some problems (as you are well aware), but one does not have to look far for opportunities to serve and grow.
hello how are you doing this morning