This semester I took a class titled "Race, Poverty, and Social Justice". It's been an extremely good experience. Through books, discussions, and interactions I have come nose to nose with challenging thoughts and beliefs of mine and others - both consciously and unconsciously. I could've communicated before this class that race and class issues existed, but never have I come into contact with the depth and extent of the perpetual levels of mess involved.
Throughout the class we were assigned to make "excursions" to different parts of Chicago, displacing ourselves into another culture. We spent time, in groups, in Chinatown, Little Village (majority Mexican), the South side (majority African American), and near Devon (majority Middle-Eastern). The pictures in this blog are from those trips.
Yet even beyond the trips, I was challenged to analyze my every cross-cultural interaction. It was fascinating to seemingly unlock pieces of my heart as I sought awareness. As time has gone on, even within the semester, I have become eager to cross boundaries of class and race. I've pursued the uncomfortable as the value in risk has unfolded. It's as if I caught this unshakable bug that won't rest without people knowing they have worth; especially people whom the rest of the world has written off. I crave to touch the "untouchable".
And honestly I don't really know how to go about it all yet. I don't know the right or best way of appropriately loving strangers (more or less), but I'm chasing answers. I'm carefully prayerful about it as I'm convinced it's God's heart to see and love people right where they're at. I'm learning to be still in the midst of new contexts and exchanges, knowing discernment takes time. And finally I've concluded that as long as I'm at school in the city, I won't be satisfied unless I'm smothering it on me - and me on it!
