THE BADASS ON ALBERTA STREET

Me outside of Saint Andrew's

         

         Last Sunday, I went to Mass at Saint Andrew’s on Alberta street in Portland (I put the link to the Church’s page on the sidebar of the blog). For the San Dieagans reading the blog, it is a mix between Hillcrest and a more reasonably priced La Jolla. There are coffee shops everywhere and on a sunny day the little shops of boutiques and Oregon made art studios preoccupy procrastinating students for hours. At the end of Mass, a four-foot-something girl stood up to make an announcement about the fair trade fair that was planned. She sounded informed and confident. My friend and I looked at one another bewildered by the girl’s maturity and chuckled. Personally, it struck me because I couldn’t believe that someone so young could be so conscious. I thought to myself instantaneously that I hoped my kids were that much of a badass (because I am pretty sure that is the only term that completely exemplifies this little girl).

            Granted, in Portland, I have found a community of people that are committed to a socially just world. I know where to find the people on campus that understand why I was upset that people celebrated murder when Bin Laden was killed. Murder is not a celebratory event. I am grateful for the hopeful change that Bin Laden’s death may cause but there is a clear distinction between social change and murder. I know the shelters I can drop-in freely to when I want to spend time with people that live differently than I do on the streets. I have become accustom to reading the newspaper each day so that I understand the world a little more. Despite all of these sources of compassion and knowledge, as the week has progressed, my thoughts have continued to turn to this compassionate sixth grader that stood up in front of the congregation.

            So, to the sixth grade four-foot-something that wanted to make a difference in the world, you are successful. Little girl you made me think: a task that is easily forgotten in a world that encourages the lack of thought. The next month is going to be one of strange “newness”, I hope to remember to think when it is easily forgotten. With the little girl’s image in the back of my mind, I plan to evoke a greater sense of thought. In so doing, relationships of depth are established and that is my plan.

             The friend that I am living with became a missionary a few years ago for her church hoping to help the prostitutes in the area to overcome the many obstacles that they face. Slowly, she learned that the prostitute’s children were where she felt she could most help the community. In so doing, she no longer receives funding from her church because she isn’t helping the intended population. My goal when I go to visit the children on “the River” is to establish a relationship so that perhaps I can learn what is missing. Maybe it is funding for Rebecca so that instead of having to work and volunteer with the children, she can focus solely on them. Perhaps it is inspiring the children with the gifts that I can bring to the table. Regardless, the badass on Alberta street will be the role I play when it all get’s to be too overwhelming. When the fear of the momentous task becomes threatening I will pretend to be the twelve-year-old at the pulpit with wide eyes, I will look over to the pew that I sat at last Sunday. There, I will be laughing at myself playing the part of confident twelve-year-old with bewilderment. Hopefully, this will inspire a new sense of hope. Neale Donald Walsch once said “life begins at the end of your comfort zone”—here is to a new beginning!