encounters of a stranger kind...

i love encounters with strangers...maybe it's that i was never taught the proper stranger danger as a kid or that my mother was constantly engaging strangers my entire childhood. grocery store clerks, cab drivers, people waiting in line at the post office, my mother could have your life story in 3 minutes flat. there is something about her face that invites your story.

i am exhilarated by the fact for just a moment you are connecting with no knowledge of the past or the future. these are often the purest moments in life. this week the universe graced me with the youth of the city. it left me laughing and feeling hopeful...


a young (maybe 16) african american kid knocked on my door. he was selling/scamming magazine subscriptions for "points". we banter and match witty remarks for a few minutes before we get down to business. he was slick, so slick and smart, i barely stood a chance.

me: okay, so is there anyway i can support you BESIDES buying a magazine?

him: buy a magazine for a friend! it's more than paper and print ms. patience, it's my future...

me: yeah, so i gotta question. do you wanna sell magazines forever, i mean, do you want to move up in this "corporation"?

him: oh no ma'am, i wanna be an actor.

me: so what are you doing to make that happen?

him: awww...i don't know, i'm just hopin' i'm gonna knock on somebody's door that's important ya know?

me: yeah, they are gonna see how smooth you are and give you an opportunity right?

him: yeah! exactly!

me: huh, okay....so i'm not gonna buy a magazine but i got somethin' better for you. hold on...

him: hey, you gotta a beer in there? just kidding, how about a water.

me: no problem

i run inside and grab a paper and pen and scribble down the information for this. why i am still promoting this movie i do not know. it's like a mother who loves you even if you treat her badly. (or poorly for that matter)

me: okay d*****, do you have access to the internet?

him: uhhh...yeah.

me: write these guys and tell them you want to read for the lead role.

him: what?

me: it's a small movie about race relations in the south.

him: it's a racist movie?

me: (laughing) no, it's a movie about how white people and black people interact. it's gonna be good man.

he takes the paper, smiles and walks away. he looked a little disappointed in the lack of a sale and surprised that an unimportant white housewife bears a gift of scratch paper with the hope of possibilities. even if it is a small one...

and then there was this little gem of a stranger exchange...

i was unloading groceries today when i saw a teenage girl in a school uniform walking on the sidewalk towards me. i figured she goes to the catholic girl's school nearby and was walking home.

her: excuse me, do you happen to have any romaine lettuce in your fridge i can buy for $5?
(i kid you not, actually happened)
me: mmm, let me check.
will baby romaine work?
her: oh yeah, here (she starts to pull money out of the pocket of her button down shirt.)
me: yeah, i'm not taking your money. just the fact that you even asked makes you my kind of girl...have a great day.

i wish i had asked what she needed it for. i couldn't even make this stuff up it's so good...

may your week be full of unexpected enocounters with interesting strangers.

some mother somewhere...

i held a boy almost too big for my arms this morning. josiah buried his face in my chest and let out a long cry. i assured him it's good to cry, that feelings like to be free. the ones that are bottled up hate it and find other ways to sneak out.

today the tears are a result of being scared, afraid that he'll never remember the 7 facts about squid. it's been all about squid here- squid art, squid books, even pin-the-tentacle on the squid game. it's just too much for a 7 year old, a 30 minute presentation pretending to be the teacher. the burden weighs on josiah's mind and heart.
i suggest squid power pancakes as they are magic. if you eat them you will remember all that you need to know about squid and be able to tell anyone and everyone about their amazingness. i kiss these tears and an agreement is made that it is indeed time for the power pancakes can bring.

my puffy eyed boy runs to take a bath and i start my day of 1 million tasks.
i have a hard time focusing. i imagine there is some other mother somewhere not far from me that is starting her day. Only this mother is wishing that yesterday was simply a nightmare and surely her sweet boy is anxious about a presention he must make for his professor. instead she attends convocations, in shock and numb. how will she face today without that boy, how can he be gone?

even further away yet another mother faces a deeper dark. her son's pain and action changed people's lives forever. the weight is too great for anyone to bear and i can not pretend to know what will keep her soul from drowning.

i can only imagine that these women wish today was the day they were holding little boys almost too big for their arms. the day where pancakes heal the aches of the soul, the day where fears can be conquered with kisses and tears.

the candle on my kitchen altar still glows from yesterday. the holy mother stares at me while i do the dishes. her face knows great pain and sadness. may she hold these mothers close to her bosom, may she come to them in their deepest dark, may she grant them comfort and peace. amen

for jarrett's mom

there's always hope...

here is a great overview of hope for richmond and our work towards racial healing...

evergreen...

i can't even begin to understand the history of this city i live in. i was almost disgusted by it when i first came here from miami.
i knew we were moving to the south, but i had no idea that this was still so THE SOUTH.
i can vivdly remember coming home from the store during that very first week in utter shock.
"jorge, do you know they still fly the dixie flag here?"

i was dumbfounded sitting at parties and listening to college educated people from my generation explain in detail how the civil war was not about slavery. it seems to me it doesn't really matter, the south held on tight to slavery, some are still holding on to the injustice even today.

i don't like the history so i found myself trying to ignore it altogether. i would ride down monument ave rolling my eyes at the impressive statues. my side of town was everything confederate, i just couldn't bring myself to accept any of it. it was all too dark. there was nothing to accept really, it just was.

i could not however ignore the racial divide in richmond. it makes me sad, but how can it be any other way? i want to say i understand but how can a white girl of privilege ever understand? sometimes i have questions i want to ask my african american friends but i feel sheepish and am not really sure where to begin. i fear my possible ignorance will somehow overshadow the intent of my heart.
i can barely wrap my head around the idea that my race, possibly my very ancestors took a group of people from their continent, from their land, from their home. their choices, their freedoms, it appeared the very essence of being human was completely stripped and yet an entire race found a way to overcome.

there is such shame, such sadness, such regret that my family did this to yours. it makes me feel helpless that i am unable to change the past and embarrassed that i don't always know what to do about the future. i find myself just wanting to say i am so deeply sorry, and keep saying it over and over again, in my words, in my actions, in my life. i need to hear your stories, to hear your history, to be quiet and listen to even those beyond the grave.

it was snowy and quiet this morning. we went to visit the evergreen cemetery. i have no desire to ignore this past. there was a sea of green going further than my eyes could see. the forest has covered every inch trying to hide the history just under the surface. the ivy attempts to choke out the honor left on headstones of those who paved a way for so many but guys like clay simply won't allow it. he stands watch along with coffee and cigarettes, he rummages around not knowing where to begin yet still befriending the dead.

we just wander around literally tripping over grave stones. jorge stops after every stumble and clears the green so just the top of the stone can feel the light of the sun. he falls behind as there are too many to keep up. the injustice continues, and i am left wondering if it will ever end...

race-o-rama

so for years my sister and brother in law have been trying to convince me to run a race. dave ran the richmond marathon a year ago. it was wicked cool, the energy, the excitement, the hope in the air. i really liked the cheering part, i have a perpetual need to be encouraging so it was like the ultimate outlet for positivity.

i've never felt a strong desire to run myself but i decided to do a local 10K. i don't really enjoy running, but i am in this 30 year old crisis thing so i've been thriving on finding new mountain tops to conquer.
the green energy quickly started to dissolve when i realized that dave and jen would be in africa the day of the race. Unexpected happenings had made my training schedule downright pathetic. i had run only once in the last 2 weeks before the race. this meant there was no way my crazy competitive self could match jorge's time of 53 minutes from last year.

everything felt too busy, no one wanted to go. it seemed like there were 20 reasons why i should bail. i was completely unprepared. no proper hydration, no laying out the race clothes, no decent night's sleep...except for the t-shirts. i was totally prepared to use my children as walking billboards for the 26,000 people there. they are so cute, who could pass on such a great opportunity for spreading political hope.

they read:

my mama
yo mama
for obama
2009

so i went, half-hearted about the whole thing (except the t-shirts). it wasn't the experience i had anticipated at all. the people barely cheered on the way. maybe the thrill was over by the time i got there or they had one too many mimosas and were tired. i plugged along until the 4th mile, i definitely hit a wall and was wishing someone was with me. i walked a little and then started a slow jog.
a really young hot black guy started to walk beside me. he was perfectly cut, you could see every muscle in his arms. i learned that just like a book fitness can not always be judged by it's cover. i leaned over and said. "hey, you should be kickin' my ass, go, run!".
he smiled and took off, i needed a me in that moment too.

i started to run and finished at 1:07 minutes, it wasn't too shabby considering. i was pleased for my first race and not too embarrassed.

the cheerleader in me felt the need to compensate for what seemed to be a lack of woo-hooing in the universe for the stragglers close to the end.
i really just wanted, no, NEEDED to see Beckey. Beckey is my dear friend who trained religiously, followed every running rule in the book, who put her entire heart and soul in the race. just a few days earlier she had hurt her ankle and was feeling such despair that she would miss the race all together. she recovered and was hoping to do it in less than 2 hours.

i was moving through my repertoire-
you are doing it!
you are almost there!
you can walk when you get home!
you did it, finish strong!
yes, you in the blue, you got it, go,go,go....


when i saw her, she was coming in well under 2 hours. i don't know what came over me. i was jumping like a total lunatic, screaming her name. "i'm so proud of you!" we hugged tight and she went on to finish the race. it was a total sister moment. i wanted to cry, she was glowing with soulful accomplishment, something i had completely missed because of my foolish pride.

i don't know if i'll run more races or not, beckey, however seems completely hooked. my soul has much more work to do on the matter. i will happily make t-shirts and woo-hoo for beckey and those like her in the meantime.