On the Bus

Let me assure you, my lack of updates is not a lack of substance, but rather a lack of time. However, as my mother always told me, if I really want to do something I will make time for it. So here I sit.

One of the things I've been making time for is yoga. There are so many lovely studios here in the city, and I always feel better afterwards despite the fact that it's a 3 or 4 hour ordeal to get there and back (admittedly, sometimes I miss the luxuries of a car). But more and more I realize the blessing of movement. One of the hardest things I observe around the city on a regular basis is the limitation of individuals with physical disabilities. Whether their ability to walk easily was taken by age or illness, the sight deeply saddens me. Thankfully, bus drivers tend to be patient and kind as men and women tenderly climb and descend the bus steps. But still the thought of elderly Mr. Ingram wobbling into my office on his cane or the young Mr. Gomez shuffling in on his walker and meningitis-crippled legs...I have no words.

Well, I have many stories I could share, but to bring in some happier thoughts to this entry I thought I would share stories from my prime educational scene: the bus. (Don't get me wrong, the bus is not always happier, but i'll just share the positive ones right now.)

Morning ride 1:

This morning on the bus a small African American girl approximately 8 years old sat next to me on her way to school. She was decked out in her backpack covered in hearts and her matching pink coat and hat. She opened up her copy of the Express (the free daily paper with everything from politics to entertainment) to the first page. Not long after I glanced over her shoulder to see who was featured in the entertainment picture did she notice me. To respond to her questioning look at me, I asked her who was in the picture. She wasn't sure, but she folded the paper to the front page and said (read in adorable child voice), "but I'm pretty sure that's Barack Obama."

"You're right! And what does he do?" I asked.

"He's the President of the United States. He's a lot like Martin Luther King. They both take care of the city and get rid of bad laws. Used to, the blacks had to sit in the back of the bus and the whites sat in the front...And Martin Luther King just had a birthday..."

I nodded and affirmed her as she shared what she knew about the two historical figures. Soon she hopped up to exit the bus, and I sat there soaking in the beautiful,uninhibited nature of children. She had no trouble sharing her stories of injustice with me, the privileged white girl sitting next to her. It is in moments like these I feel there is hope for conversation, hope that I can be a part of justice despite my privilege.

Morning ride 2:

On the morning of my birthday (yes, this story is from back in the early winter), I squeezed onto the crowded bus. I wedged into a seat up front. A few stops later an older man climbed on the bus. He did not carry a cane or show other signs to difficulty moving, but as soon as he saw me he asked if he could have my seat. I have no problem giving up my seat, but I did fear he would not be able to fit into the seat where I was only able to sit on the edge for all the people. He thankfully was able to make room for himself as I stood bumping into others.

Slowly the bus began to empty out and I was able to take a seat next to the man. He turned to me and asked "what day is it again?"

I told him the date.

"Sorry, I'm pretty forgetful," he explained.

"Oh, no worries. I wouldn't remember except for it's my birthday." (selfish plug, I know)

"Oh! It's your birthday? Well, I have to give you something!"

"No, no," I insisted.

"No really. Take this dollar," he insisted.

I could tell from his forcefulness that it was best to take the dollar and honor his gift.

"Well, alright. I'll buy something in honor of you."

"No," he said, "in honor of God."

He went on to tell me about how he had a stroke 10 years ago. Soon afterwards his wife took away all his money and his newborn son. He hasn't seen them sense. Now he spends every day searching for a job or visiting his counselor. (Now you know I felt REALLY bad taking his dollar...) It's amazing how people are willing to give out of even their smallest earnings.

***

Pax,

Kelly