Today was interesting for 2 reasons: first, bike riding today was cursed. I arrived at the 7th ward center "on time" only to then see I had a text saying I should come an hour later. I really should have checked my phone before I left! Then my 5.7 mile ride home turned into something like 8.7 miles because I managed to lose track of the street I was on...? That sounds ridiculous, I know, but the pedestrian walkway that David said might be on Broad Street was actually a highway-like bridge with cars merging on and off rather quickly, so I tried to go around it. Tried... and failed.
Now the second reason that today was interesting was the random people I saw and talked to while walking around the 7th ward with Sarah to pass out several different fliers (about 2 community meetings on Saturday, a free legal advice clinic, and the Crescent City Farmers Market).
First, there was a man walking down the street with a can of beer in one hand and a large machete tucked under his other arm. Interesting.
Then a younger guy (early 20s?) on crutches might have said he got shot in the leg yesterday. But then Sarah thought he also could have said he fell. There was nothing wrong with his voice, so I'm not sure how we got two very different interpretations of what he said... but he (like many of his neighbors) did sound pretty enthusiastic about coming to the community meetings, so that was encouraging.
There was one woman, though, who didn't want anything to do with us and our fucking fliers, because us organizations just get grants and don't do anything with them. That was difficult to respond to--we really couldn't do much besides remove our fliers from her mailbox. As Sarah said, it's a legitimate concern that NGOs don't necessarily use their resources to make an immediately visible impact in the community. That isn't to say they're irresponsible or wasteful or even really doing anything wrong, but I guess that isn't the same thing as doing everything right. It's impossible to address every need--just like one person can't do everything, one organization can't do everything either--but it's not so easy to accept that if some of your basic needs aren't being met despite the presence of an NGO in the community. And NGOs do fail--maybe she had a particularly bad experience in mind. Hopefully events like Saturday's community meeting will help keep NHS and the community on the same page.
And last (but certainly not least!) there was Mr. Black. Well actually his name was not Mr. Black, he was just playing with us. He and his friend, both (like pretty much the entire community) African American, were sitting on their front porch drinking Miller High Life (Champagne of Beers!) and he certainly loved to chat. His friend read the flier about free legal advice (specifically for those with a criminal background) and went into a little rant about how so many people in the neighborhood don't work and join gangs and that's why they really need this kind of thing (he did not need it, he goes to work every day).
Then "Mr. Black" (I can't remember his real name now) pretty much took over the conversation. He recalled a conversation he'd had with a guy who claimed to be white: he'd held a piece of paper up to the "white" guy to show him that he was not, in fact, the same color as white paper, and therefor not white. Same with "black" people--are they really the same color as your shoes? No, no I suppose not. One time he'd seen a woman who actually was white--you could see all her veins--but otherwise he's never seen a person who was actually white. I feel like there was some kind of deeper wisdom there, but I'm not quite sure I grasped it.
He also told us about how he starting picking potatoes and other crops when he was 8. About another job that only paid $25/week, and another that paid $75/week and made him think he was rich. He told us he'd been to 26 states in the United States, and all over Europe, and Guatemala (in the army). In Guatemala they had $0.25 girls--for $0.50 they'd spend the whole night!
He asked us if we were married, and if we were going to get married (several times he asked that, actually, it was very important to him somehow). He was happy to hear we were not and told us that we never should. (His friend was sort of nodding in the background). "Mr. Black" had been married twice and claimed to have something like 18 children, all between the ages of 9 months and 23. That's not nearly as many as his father had (like 30!), but nowadays they have everything (everything and I mean everything!) and it's harder to get pregnant. Something about a cup--I think he might have been talking about diaphrams?
That was kind of our cue to leave: when the old man starts talking about sex. But as we were walking away, he reminded us not to get married! :p
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