Love is....

letting go of hate. even when you don't know it's there...

A neighbor today, referred to us as "Urban Pioneers."

I cannot tell you how crazy offensive I find this term. It's a rather common title that young white couples call themselves as they rehab the crumbling mansions in our neighborhood. They will tell you that they aren't racist and that it isn't a racist comment. But, they are wrong. As I have mentioned before, we live in an inner city neighborhood that we happen to love. We are firmly in the minority (30% white), and this has been such a cool thing for my kids. One of their favorite places is the Natural Uhru hair salon on our corner. They love my kids there. They have a giant butterfly painted on the wall, and handmade dolls dressed in traditional African attire. They also usually have pastries which my kids gobble down. When we walk by on the way to the playground, the owner or another of the women there, will come out and call the kids in, or wave happily to my children's noseprints on the windows. And they laugh when Jellybean wants them to style her white blonde, pin straight, baby fine hair. She wants braids.

My kids love running to our next door neighbor's house and ringing her doorbell to find out what that wonderful smell is coming from her Puerto Rican kitchen. My kids love watching Jade and Jasmin (identical twin girls) rollerskate. Jellybean likes to chase behind them yelling, "Black girl! Black girl! I love your rollerskates!" I used to cringe when she yelled this. But Jade told me it was because she couldn't tell them apart. or maybe it was Jasmine. My kids love running across the street to pet Sr. Jeanne's cat. They love shouting "hello!" and "What a beautiful day!" to the "boys that have their pants falling off." They love Enrico's dog (whom I hate) that has managed to get into our house.

This is our neighborhood. Are there problems with gangs? Yes. lots. We have to be careful around initiation season. Our 95 year old office volunteer was mugged outside of the church in broad daylight. (What 95 year old lady do you know who carries cash around with them?!) There are drug dealers on the next block up. We face alot of anger and skepticism because we are white and serving a black neighborhood.

But, the idea that we are "Pioneers?" It just boils my blood!

As if we have come to settle this neighborhood and reclaim it from the "savages." What in the world, people?! But, really. I mean the reality. This is exactly the mindset. Chowder and I have commented before on the "reservations" that the African Americans in our city are pushed onto. We lived near a reservation in Minnesota and the similarities are striking. Neighborhoods that time and white government forgot. The people are living in falling down buildings, not getting any education, turning to drugs and alcohol from despair and hopelessness. There are actually neighborhoods that white people don't even know about within the urban city limits, that don't have paved roads! Paved roads! Generation after generation, on the Rez. That is until of course someone wants to "reclaim" that neighborhood and make it all bright and shiny for themselves again. So, they call on their old friend Eminent Domain. Give the woman in our church $15,000 for her house where she is raising 3 grandchildren and call that a fair price. Of course she can't afford to buy one of the houses that will be replacing her own, so she has to move. With all the other poor people. Relocate to another reservation.

And now I am no longer surprised by the comment from a teenage girl in our church. The daughter of Congolese refugees. She told us, "You know. Since I've met you guys, I don't hate all white people anymore." indeed. Somedays, I need to intentionally, forcefully let go of the hate, myself.

Happy Love Thursday