It's hard to believe that I have been here in my apartment on Derry St for over a month now. This is the neighborhood I fell in love with during my time at Messiah - and after years of driving in and out, it feels so right to live here now. I love that I am surrounded by people from so many different backgrounds - on my block alone, there are folks from Niger, Burkina Faso, Pakistan, and Puerto Rico! I love that people blare rap and hip-hop from their cars. I love that kids play outside on the sidewalks, and that people talk and laugh loudly outside my window. I also love the "roughness" of this neighborhood in a way that I can't explain. This place is so alive. Yet I won't pretend that it's free from problems - there are shootings sometimes, drug deals go down not far from here, and the cracked sidewalks and abandoned houses attest to the poverty that plagues this area. But there is also a lot of hope - so many organizations working for positive change here, so many people committed to making this a better place. And I am here to be one of them.
I have felt welcomed by the other "transplants" - our neighbors from Niger and Burkina Faso have become friends who watch out for us; our landlord and his family next-door are wonderful, sharing their children and telling us about ways to get involved in the neighborhood; Burmese refugee friends stop by all the time; and we have connected with other like-minded folks who moved onto the Hill intentionally. It has felt good to befriend other "outsiders".
Being welcomed by the natives of "the Hill" has not been so easy... I've quickly discovered that living in this neighborhood and being part of this neighborhood are two very different things. There's no question that us three white girls stick out. Most of the time it is something that is unspoken but tangible - when I walk down the street I can feel people looking and wondering what the heck this white girl is doing here. And sometimes there are comments - ranging from the curious: "what are you girls doing in this neighborhood? you're too nice to live here!" ...to the belligerent: "F*** white people!"
I so badly want to become a part of the community that exists in this neighborhood, but I underestimated how difficult it would be to connect across very real barriers of race, class, and culture. Because this really is a different culture - with its own history, identity, and way of life that I don't share, and ways of communicating and interacting that I don't fully understand yet. I long to understand, though, and even more to belong. But I know that will take time and a great deal of intentionality on my part.
I'm still figuring out how to interact with people - which is odd, because I'm no stranger to urban neighborhoods and grew up in one not that different from Allison Hill. Yet I was never a part of the neighborhoods I lived in before - I had been taught to put up my guard whenever I was out, so lived parallel lives to my neighbors, rarely interacting. That is not how I want to live anymore, but it is difficult to unlearn that now, and without intentionality I can easily default to just shutting everyone out. This is not driven by fear of bodily harm, because I'm not scared. But perhaps it is driven by fear of awkward interactions, fear of rude comments that can be the result of friendliness. Some days I'm tired and would rather just stay inside my apartment instead of dealing with it all, but most days I am up for the challenge. This is what I chose, and nobody ever said it would be easy.
One of my roommates commented recently that this place is hard - not like hard soil that just needs to be turned a few times to soften up, but like the concrete sidewalks that aren't easy to crack. However, I am reminded of a parting gift from my former boss at the Agape Center - a beautiful picture of a dandelion, with an encouragement to always plant ourselves in hard places, to grow where little else can, and flourish with a tenacity like that of this flower. That is what I hold onto now - I will be that dandelion here in South Allison Hill.
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