As I was driving home from work today, I got caught behind the ice cream truck man. You know, like straight out of the 50s, ringing his little bell to tell all the children of the neighborhood that there was ice cream to be bought. Even though he was going slow I didn't mind, because it was just so random and cool - I didn't think those trucks were actually around anymore! But it's the second time this week I've seen it. He showed up with the nice weather.

When I first moved into this neighborhood it seemed very sketchy; I was intimidated and didn't want to walk down the street. Most of the signs on Cranston, the main street near me, are all in Spanish and are attached to very run-down looking places. I don't feel so intimidated anymore, even though I do realize I still live in the city and I still need to take all the usual precautions. There are lots of things I really like - and could grow to love - about the neighborhood I live in. High up there: I love that I can step out my door and see the Armory towering over the neighbors fence. It's this big yellow castle with a former parade ground turned park behind it, and it towers above the old renovated "painted ladies" that have been turned into apartments. For a look at the armory, go to:

http://home.earthlink.net/~rmcannon/cecelia/pages/cecelia%27s%20apt%20004.html

and the additional pictures show my apartment and the view out my front bay window.

Anyway, a week or two ago on a Friday it was sooo nice, and I was so sick of being inside buildings and cars, so I took a stroll over to the little park behind the Armory. I had roller bladed there a few times in the fall, and there were never very many people, but that day there were tons of people out. 50 or so young men had gotten two separate games of soccer going, and on the little playground several mothers were out with their preschoolers - so cute! - and the grass smelled so wonderful, the new grass . . . not the illegal kind! I really enjoyed the walk, and wished that I knew more of my neighbors, so that I might run into somebody I knew as I strolled around the park and enjoyed the view of the Armory and all the people having fun. And as dusk came on, I decided that I really wanted some Smirnoff - a nice little relaxing treat to end the week. But I didn't feel like getting in my car and driving down to the liquorstore in the supermarket complex. (CT doesn't allow alcohol in grocery stores.) So I said, "What the heck, I know it's practically dark now, but there are tons of people milling around on the street, most of whom are honest people unlikely to mug me. Nobody would try to hurt me with all these witnesses/helpers around." So I got my wallet and strolled a couple blocks down Cranston to Tropical Liqours and bought my Smirnoff 6 pack. (It used to be a 12 pack, but the store people had slashed the boxes in half, used packing tape to keep the bottoles inside the half box, and sold them as 6 packs. I was amused.) And I came home and enjoyed some basketball on TV and my drink.

They tell us that part of the reason the AmeriCorps stipend is so low (besides funding issues) is that they want us to have the experience of really living among the community we are serving. Just like many of the families of the preschoolers I teach, I have to have two-three jobs to pay the bills even though I get food stamps to cover all my groceries (if I budget) and some assistence for my heating and electricity. I don't live among college students any more - I live in a neighborhood, which I'm finally beginning to discover really is a neighborhood, even though it is so full of renters. It's a very humbling experience. It puts life in perspective. I can't imagine people making 3,4, and 5 times what I do as having to struggle to get by, in any way. It makes me dig deep into my own pocket and *find* some extra cash to give to charity. When I am making 3,4, and 5 times what I do now, if I ever start to make an excuse about how "I can't really afford to give right now" I hope I think back to these times and realize what an idiotic statement that is.

I guess I could sum it up in two fundamental lessons that I've learned:
1) We need a hell of a lot less to get by than what we often think we do. (We being those priviliged to a good education, a supportive family, and relative freedom from financial worry for the first 18 years of our lives. Relative to the people I now serve.)
2) People are just people. Poverty makes it a lot harder to stick to the moral high ground - sometimes you pull out moral compromises on minor things like "Oh I forgot this soda pack was under the cart and the cashier didn't see it, do I go back in and pay?" But nevertheless, I can feel safer walking down these streets because I have internalized the point that we shouldn't be so quick to feel afraid of people just because they look like they are poor. Most of them are just trying to scrap out an honest living, and they aren't going to attack you, or steal your stuff, or do whatever it is that we're so afraid they'll do.

Neither of those things are completely new revelations to me. They are things I understood intellectually before. But having lived the experiences I've lived so far, having worked with the people I have, I can live them more sincerely.