The Red Bricks

I see them as I round the bend of the road, leaving the affluent downtown apartments behind. The large red brick structures peak around the corner. Most pass these by on their way to the “safer” neighborhood jobs. Most dare not make the turn I make every day. But I do, each morning Monday through Thursday. I pull down Grove Street into one of the housing projects of Chattanooga. There are always a few out and about, kids waiting for the buses, mothers there to watch that nothing happens in these early morning groups. I pull in, always check around me, and lock my car doors as I enter our clinic.

I’ve been working in this small clinic in the projects for going on 4 years now. It has been the best job I’ve ever had. It has also given me a completely new view on life. I see patients who have grown up in the projects, 40 year-olds that are grandparents, 20 year-olds who are seeking out disability. I see girls beat up by their boyfriends, and people who haven’t seen a doctor in 10 years but should have started seeing one 11 years ago!

I struggle with wrapping my mind around this type of poverty, this cycle of babies being born to mamas who are babies themselves. I struggle because I have never had to worry as I lay my head down that gun shots will ring out in the night. I’ve never had to worry about being without food or gas or a roof over my head any days of my life thus far. I’ve never had to worry that my husband is going to fly off the handle and his solution to the problem is going to be using a gun on me, or the one whose anger the bullet will penetrate.

It’s hard for me to listen to people fuss about how all these people are lazy, not trying, unworthy of help. People are poor and life is hard, but a job is not always a solution to every problem, and the desire to do better is not lost, but often the means are harder than us rich people realize. I wonder what I would do if my mom wasn’t at home most nights, if I had sole responsibility of myself and siblings at the tender age of 7, if our paycheck was barely going to cover the light bill and there were still 20 days left in the month to cover things like food, transportation, or medical bills. It’s not that easy to “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” when there aren’t any boots around.

I know one can argue, there are programs, and supplements, and this, that, and the other. But the truth is, who tells these people about all this? It’s not like they get a packet in the mail saying “You have nothing. You Qualify for ­­­_______". Do you know how many forms my patients have to fill out to qualify for one free medication? I’ll let you know, your hand would cramp by the end. Add into that a limited ability to read and write, and some of this stuff is down right overwhelming. Not to mention, rules change, people with power stop programs without notice and don’t bother to tell anyone affected by it. I imagine if I were constantly having to be told what to do, how to do it, change my plans, or not have any plans, I would be disgruntled too. Do you like people telling you what to do?

One night, as I was descending from the office door down the red brick steps covered with teenagers (because we have free internet), I noticed a little boy about 5 years old. I smiled and he hid his eyes, like boys of that age do sometimes. As I was nearing him a much older man, in his 40s, called out, “Hey little man! How you be?” The boys head sunk lower and his teenage cousin’s response was, “Man, everyone knows my cousin!” My mind careened through all the reasons this little boy would know these grown men. None of these thoughts were for good reasons. And so my heart breaks a little bit every day, because there is suffering endured by so many that never gets thrown into the equation of poverty. But the miracle in this is that people keep on. There is joy down in these red brick buildings too. My heart fills up again when someone lets out a long sigh of relief when they know that I am here to truly take care of them. It fills when the kids group that meets in our clinic learns about God’s love and how it’s unconditional while everything else in their world is full of conditions.

Each night, I leave this red brick jungle and I say a prayer. I pray that tonight no violence will erupt. I pray that little children’s bellies are full. I pray that my older patients can sit on their porches without being harassed, and I pray that there are people in places that I don’t know about working to change a very broken and abused system. I’ve learned in a few short years that survival of the fittest may mean trying to get money any way you can, government or otherwise. I’ve learned that you are treated much differently when you don’t have money, a name, or a job (and maybe even worse when you do have a job because try surviving on minimum wage and getting decent healthcare with no benefits).

Each night, after I leave and pray and drive to pick up my children from their expensive daycare and drive to my safe neighborhood, I worry that I might be part of the problem. I consume and take for granted lots of luxuries that are a given part of my life and may not be a given for someone else’s. I take for granted driving to the store, buying groceries that I want, having the ability to constantly communicate with anyone I desire via Ipad, Iphone, or internet. But I’m becoming more aware. I realize I don’t have to travel to another nation to see poverty and injustice, because it is sitting outside my office door. I still feel a bit immobile or paralyzed in all of this, but as I’m becoming more entrenched in the culture and community, I become more impassioned. I know God has called me to the red bricks because He’s here…it’s just hard to see him always. He’s in the least of these and there are a lot who fit that description. I cannot turn my back on a person just because I feel that they are squandering resources or living life poorly. I cannot make that judgment, because I wouldn’t want that judgment made of me.

So next time you find yourself driving next to the old brick buildings on “that” side of town, send up a prayer, search your own heart a little bit to see behind the bricks into the lives of those who suffer greater things than you can ever imagine, who don’t have the stability to know what tomorrow will hold, who just want to have someone tell them, “I’m on your side, I’m here for you.” You don’t need to be anyone special to care, you just have to leave the boxes we’ve constructed out of our ideals, luxuries, and attitudes and recognize that we are all in this together.  

Why I'm throwing the "Old Ball and Chain" Out!

Today we are in Nashville for the wedding of two close friends. I love going to weddings because it is always a time when I think about my own marriage. Upfront I want you to know that I have a great marriage.  Brad and I put a lot of work in upfront, with pre-marital counseling and living away from our family the first few years of marriage, to get to this point. We became a married couple before we became parents, which worked well for us because we needed to know each other’s strengths and weaknesses before we took on parenthood.  But like everything else in life, it’s not perfect. We get ridiculous every now and again. My big, loud mouth likes to be heard and mainly that leaves me unable to listen over my own dull roar. Then there are days that I get overwhelmed and feel underappreciated as I clean the kitchen, bathroom, and living room for what seems like the 50^th time this week all for it to look like Sherman’s March had occurred shortly after I left the area.  These times are not the majority, but I wonder sometimes if my friends think they are.  You see, like many people, I join in the banter, or maybe I should call it bashing, of my spouse when I’m out with friends and acquaintances.

Brad is a pretty amazing guy. In fact, there are several days where I sit and think, “God, I’m lucky because a lot of people search for their perfect match and I’ve found mine!” But when I’m around my friends, especially if it is just women, the “ball and chain” mentality seems to emerge. I start complaining about how he’s this or that and why hasn’t he mastered the art of mind-reading so he can do all the things I’m secretly trying to convey to him through ESP. Then the explosion of other wives and girlfriends tends to chime in too. It’s easy to point out our significant other’s flaws. It’s easy to nitpick about all the things that don’t get done, but it is so much harder to stay positive, to illuminate the amazing person, dad, and husband that he is.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are times when sometimes I need to vent about my angst that the car keys are yet again upstairs in his pants pocket whilst I’m running late for work. But there are so many opportunities to speak to the love, dedication, and work that Brad puts into our marriage, but they go unsaid. It’s discouraging to me the mockery we make of marriage. We think we can berate it, make it a big joke, and that it’s socially acceptable because everyone else is doing it. Meanwhile, these little jabs and pokes by our sharp tongues are slowly breaking our unions apart.

I’m lucky because I get called out on the meanness (very politely) when we are out and I say something that just rips at his spirit. I didn’t realize how easy it was to “ball and chain” my marriage, when it is so many more things. Men don’t get off the hook here either.  I’ve heard plenty about So and So’s wife nagging them to death, making their life miserable, and shopping too much. And that’s how we portray our beloved to the world! Yikes! Is it a wonder that we don’t respect marriage so much anymore? We barely respect each other!

Marriage is hard enough. Some days we don’t say nice things to each other at all. Sometimes the irritation blinds me to the wonderful things I have. Sometimes the kids have driven me crazier than normal and I cannot be around another living being because my soul has been sucked away for the day. But that day is not to be categorized into the back of my head to be brought back up during several more occasions or to get a good laugh at my husband’s expense.

I am the queen of put-downs and as I said, I get called out on it. I do it mainly in groups, trying to impress, and Brad has definitely said, “You said, X, Y, Z and that isn’t okay.” I’m really trying. I’m not very good at it yet. It’s so easy to make a joke or put someone else down for my own gratification. OMG! Am I a bully? This is another whole blog post waiting to happen. What I am, is lucky enough to have a marriage where I can be told this and not hold it against him. Because I still struggle with this, I try to be more sensitive to this in groups and situations. I still share in the snowball of husband-bashing occasionally, but I’m really try to stop and say something positive, to stand up for my side-kick through life.

The truth is, our marriage is fortified when we brag on each other in public. Just like we show our kids a united front, we have to show each other that we are in this together.  I know I like getting complimented, recognized and loved on, and so does my husband. It means even more if I’m willing to share that with the rest of the world. And really, the reaction, the edification that matters is his, not my friends’, not my family’s. So when he’s caught me bragging on him a bit I see a gleam in his eyes, his chest swells a little, and his posture changes. And I wonder for a split second if he can read my mind. If we have finally reached a point where I can just look at him and he knows I love him and his thoughts have become my thoughts. But then I see the t-shirts are still on the bedroom floor and I realize maybe I just need to ask him to pick them up!  

Summer Camp...Revisited

I loved going to summer camps. I would make these friends that were from another city or state and they were just awesome! It was not uncommon, back in the day, to cry about how much we would miss each other and spend the next few weeks after camp writing letters to each other, only to lose touch and return to the friendships that were most convenient in our towns and classrooms. But then you'd see that campmate again the next summer and it was like no time had passed and the boy-chasing and gossiping would resume in no time.

This past week I have been at a continuing education conference. I came childless, husbandless, and really planning to just attend the lectures and veg out at night with no one to take care of but myself. But a wonderful thing happened, and a thing that so often fails to happen as we age out of the "summer camp days" and into the "real adult world days," I made a friend! We are in the same profession, have kids around the same age, work in the same town and just had never crossed paths. We had time to have lunches and dinners together. We got to know a lot about our kids, husbands, how we made it to this point in life. It has been wonderful!

What I realized is how infrequently this happens at this stage in my life. Sure I meet new people and at what seems to be a snail's pace, we may get to know each other or start to decipher if we fit in each others' busy schedules. Gone are the days where you get to bunk together and share meals and laughs and tell scary stories before lights out. It was so easy to make friends when you were contained in these little summer microcosms. This same quick introduction into friendship happened in college and PA school when it was clear we were all in the same boat of the unknown. But as a working adult, these new friendships are few and far between.

I realize that, although I came looking for solace and downtime and just a chance to watch whatever I freakin' wanted to on TV, sharing a moment with another person is so much more fun and fulfilling. I would've been bored out of my mind by day 2, but instead I had a dinner buddy, a shopping partner and a wine sampling compadre. And the great thing is, I still feel rejuvenated. I got a girls' weekend out of my trip and a friend that I can actually look forward to getting together with when I return home.

I know my summer camp days, the way I knew them to be, are gone. And I know that in today's world of busy-ness, it's easy to shut off the cordialness towards other human beings. But it makes me wonder if I'd never said hello or struck up a conversation if I would've had so much fun this week? I'm glad I didn't have a chance to find that out!