At the end, there was a little discussion about the mindful/mindlessness of meditation. The speaker asked the audience if we had any questions about the instruction of meditation in general. The first person to raise his hand was Barry. (He sat two seats down from business suit guy.) During walking meditation, I noticed Barry had a bunch of plastic silverware in his back pocket. I was excited to hear from this guy.
Barry began by saying that he has received no official instruction for meditation, and wants to make sure he's doing it right. He shares that he's homeless, and he makes a lot of decisions throughout the day that challenge him, especially during his meditation time. He wanted to know if it's OK that these thoughts come to him while practicing. The speaker very kindly, and professionally, responded to his question ("of course it's OK!"), and in that made it very clear that she and this community knew and respected him well.
I teared up then and I'm tearing up now. I am so happy that this group can benefit from Barry, and vice versa. That he can have the opportunity to sit right next to business suit guy and be at peace together. That he can have the opportunity to hear the struggles that his peers are facing and that he can relate and support them.
It sounds simple, and maybe even old fashioned, but it was that "face of homelessness" that I've been looking, working, and fighting for for so long. Although he's without a place to call home, Barry is not without a community.
By now, we're all aware of what's going on in Baltimore right now. As someone who connects much of her life to this city, I'm heartbroken. But I know I'm not the only one.
It's been hard to see a city that's overcome so much get impacted so deeply by what's now very clearly a nationwide problem. It's been even harder to know that some of my most loved friends and family are witnessing a lot of this first hand. My best friend is an incredibly brilliant teacher at a Baltimore middle school. She struggles trying to be a positive source of support to her students who want to make sense of the terror going on in their own neighborhoods, while trying to find ways to understand it herself. My brother keeps reminding us all he's OK, though he lives just a short walk from where rioters were filmed stomping out police car windows yesterday. I know it'd make no difference if I still lived there or not, but it's hard to be away from "home" at a time like this.
Yesterday was filled with such horror and chaos in the media. I was questioning where the community went, and where it's gone in the larger picture of our country. But today, I found a strange sense of hope. I kept seeing videos like this, and this, pop up in my Facebook news feed - of people who so desperately needed to share a deep-rooted message, but never had the appropriate opportunity until now (albeit, an unfortunate one, to say the very least). I mean, gangs are coming together to calmly discuss issues of oppression, for crying out loud! I've also seen many postings of clean up groups getting together, shares from neighborhood Facebook support groups that have been created, etc.
By now, we're all aware of what's going on in Baltimore right now. As someone who connects much of her life to this city, I'm heartbroken. But I know I'm not the only one.
It's been hard to see a city that's overcome so much get impacted so deeply by what's now very clearly a nationwide problem. It's been even harder to know that some of my most loved friends and family are witnessing a lot of this first hand. My best friend is an incredibly brilliant teacher at a Baltimore middle school. She struggles trying to be a positive source of support to her students who want to make sense of the terror going on in their own neighborhoods, while trying to find ways to understand it herself. My brother keeps reminding us all he's OK, though he lives just a short walk from where rioters were filmed stomping out police car windows yesterday. I know it'd make no difference if I still lived there or not, but it's hard to be away from "home" at a time like this.
Yesterday was filled with such horror and chaos in the media. I was questioning where the community went, and where it's gone in the larger picture of our country. But today, I found a strange sense of hope. I kept seeing videos like this, and this, pop up in my Facebook news feed - of people who so desperately needed to share a deep-rooted message, but never had the appropriate opportunity until now (albeit, an unfortunate one, to say the very least). I mean, gangs are coming together to calmly discuss issues of oppression, for crying out loud! I've also seen many postings of clean up groups getting together, shares from neighborhood Facebook support groups that have been created, etc.
Through all of this, I've been reminded that... community still exists.
Oppression is everywhere. It has many faces: race, homelessness, religion, disability, age, sexual orientation. Unfortunately, I don't know when it will end. I do know, however, that we can start this battle by being a community. Be thoughtful. Be patient with each other. Consider the whole story. Live together, work together, hell, even meditate together. It doesn't have to be this hateful.
