Friday nights on the C-Train are many-hued and noisy. Lovely Filipino nannies speaking Tagalog. Venerably turbaned old men speaking Punjabi. Young people of all sorts wearing the clothes and speaking the languages of whoever's in their headphones.
I, with my pale quiet skin, am probably one of the only people speaking English, just because I happen to bump into a classmate in the crowd (she with an aristocratic Nepalese accent).
We are here in Calgary for two years, to talk about social justice. Our program is predominantly white, with a handful of international students representing the upper economic reaches of their home cultures.
What would happen if we threw open the conversation? A Friday night social justice forum, on the C-Train!
Would we careen off-track, or find a better groove?
My confession is that I'm still afraid, most of the time, of what that better groove might be. What it might demand of me. I like my quiet neighborhood, and the nearby space of land and sky where I can go to escape the city. Deer there, and porcupines in abundance. Mountains in the distance.
The C-Train and its environs are okay when I need a gritty fix of the street, to remind me why I'm in social work. But could I move in? The only hint of wildlife there is in the skeletal heaps of shopping carts dumped under pedways.
Fresh air, maybe, with the wind.
I, with my pale quiet skin, am probably one of the only people speaking English, just because I happen to bump into a classmate in the crowd (she with an aristocratic Nepalese accent).
We are here in Calgary for two years, to talk about social justice. Our program is predominantly white, with a handful of international students representing the upper economic reaches of their home cultures.
What would happen if we threw open the conversation? A Friday night social justice forum, on the C-Train!
Would we careen off-track, or find a better groove?
My confession is that I'm still afraid, most of the time, of what that better groove might be. What it might demand of me. I like my quiet neighborhood, and the nearby space of land and sky where I can go to escape the city. Deer there, and porcupines in abundance. Mountains in the distance.
The C-Train and its environs are okay when I need a gritty fix of the street, to remind me why I'm in social work. But could I move in? The only hint of wildlife there is in the skeletal heaps of shopping carts dumped under pedways.
Fresh air, maybe, with the wind.
posted by sparrow anne at
11:09 a.m.
3 Comments:
i am so glad you wrote. and i think social work needs you, most definitely, but i totally resonate with your need for fresh air and quiet perspective. i believe God will bless you with this, and the opportunity to serve at the same time. trust and obey right? love you sweetie. em.
I totally understand your desire to "escape" the streets. Even Jesus did that. I love working on the streets with the people who live there but to be able to go home (outside of the city) is almost like heaven. Trudy HMMV
Sarah, I didn't know that you are in the social work program! I think you would be wonderful at it! May the Lord continue to grant you those restful moments in nature.
love, mel
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