Showing posts with label life in east palo alto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life in east palo alto. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Sunday, January 10, 2010
for the love of family :: part ii
the second day of my parents' visit (dec 26), my mom insisted that we go an pick persimmons from my neighbor's yard. granted that i had never met them before, i was a bit reluctant to just romp on over there and ask them if i could pick the persimmons i had been drooling over this past winter. it seemed, well, a bit weird. (even for me...who will talk to just about anyone.)
lucky for me, this gave me the perfect reason to go. my parents were the ones who really wanted to pick the fruit, not me. i was just there to help facilitate the exchange. um. yeah. (insert echo here: yeah!)
i have to say, i thought i was an enthusiastic gal...but my mom is quite the energetic one. she looks really confident up on that ladder, but when asked, she expressed how scared she was to be on on the ladder. yet, she climbed up without any qualms and picked every good lookin persimmon her little arms could reach. we - i mean she - picked about 30 lbs...i'm sure of it.
meet alice. she lives on the property with her brother and mom.
the damage was done.
ps. all of the pictures here (except for the very first one) is straight out of the camera.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
protest
last week, there was a protest a couple blocks down. 
the reason?
a man was placed into a home in epa, who served time in prison for his crimes against women (aka, sex offender). i didn't know about the big protest on wed, but did see this little one the next day while driving home from work. i biked back to the corner and inquired about what was going on and took a few photos.
if you click on the link above, the article talks some about how people shouldn't just focus on this one man because there are about 60 to 70 sex offenders that live in epa (including a couple men who live quite close to where i live).
my discomfort has percolated to the surface with this experience.
honestly, i feel unsafe at times and find myself wanting to avoid seeing my neighbor. my neighbor.
i've been wrestling with this idea that choosing to love someone even when you know something horrid about them is one of the deepest loves possible. add to the mix: they are a stranger, they've committed a crime against my gender, & they could potentially hurt me.
sounds much like a certain parable doesn't it?
"What does it take to earn God's respect and not simply yearn for God's approval? Jesus' parable about the Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37) seems to provide us with an answer: Show mercy. Mercy is different than charity. Mercy brings together generosity, grace, and love—it is not simply forgiving a person to whom you have no obligation or feel morally superior. Mercy calls us to follow Amos' plumb line down into the depths of our own soul, a place that is not hidden from God, but a place that God can illuminate with truth and understanding."
-Sojourners Magazine, by Malinda Elizabeth Berry, July 2007
what would it look like to choose mercy...to choose loving my neighbor?
what would it look like for an entire community to choose to embrace those who have violated another and who have the potential to do so again?
what would it look like for us to see ourselves in that same way?
would we want that same sort of mercy & love extended to us?
i hope so.
on a lighter note, part of why i wanted to take these pictures was to practice photojournalism. i guess in some sense, this was my very first personal assignment.
the reason?
a man was placed into a home in epa, who served time in prison for his crimes against women (aka, sex offender). i didn't know about the big protest on wed, but did see this little one the next day while driving home from work. i biked back to the corner and inquired about what was going on and took a few photos.
if you click on the link above, the article talks some about how people shouldn't just focus on this one man because there are about 60 to 70 sex offenders that live in epa (including a couple men who live quite close to where i live).
my discomfort has percolated to the surface with this experience.
honestly, i feel unsafe at times and find myself wanting to avoid seeing my neighbor. my neighbor.
i've been wrestling with this idea that choosing to love someone even when you know something horrid about them is one of the deepest loves possible. add to the mix: they are a stranger, they've committed a crime against my gender, & they could potentially hurt me.
sounds much like a certain parable doesn't it?
"What does it take to earn God's respect and not simply yearn for God's approval? Jesus' parable about the Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37) seems to provide us with an answer: Show mercy. Mercy is different than charity. Mercy brings together generosity, grace, and love—it is not simply forgiving a person to whom you have no obligation or feel morally superior. Mercy calls us to follow Amos' plumb line down into the depths of our own soul, a place that is not hidden from God, but a place that God can illuminate with truth and understanding."
-Sojourners Magazine, by Malinda Elizabeth Berry, July 2007
what would it look like to choose mercy...to choose loving my neighbor?
what would it look like for an entire community to choose to embrace those who have violated another and who have the potential to do so again?
what would it look like for us to see ourselves in that same way?
would we want that same sort of mercy & love extended to us?
i hope so.
on a lighter note, part of why i wanted to take these pictures was to practice photojournalism. i guess in some sense, this was my very first personal assignment.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
"don't trust anyone." - jackie, 8/5/09
i am familiar with fear.
but this kind, i had only heard about.
on Wednesday, i experienced it.
i walked back to the barn chugging a new concoction of fear & intrigue.
---
jackie & elena (below) saved me from the unknown danger that I was in – a danger that I had no idea about. my encounter with them was divine. God literally sent them around the corner and around my way to “interrupt” a conversation I started having with a neighbor down the street.
---
if you know me, you know that I’m friendly. I like talking to strangers. I’m trusting. I like to engage and hear people’s stories. & I’ve especially been eager to get to know my neighbors here in my new neighborhood.
last wednesday, it finally hit me. I live in “the hood” … it’s a place that I can’t roam freely or run/bike/walk whenever I want … it’s a place where I need to be careful of who I trust and interact with. Unfortunately, that’s just sort of the way it is. It’s what I signed up for when I decided to move here.
it ain’t no Palo Alto anymore, sista.
I’m in East Palo Alto now. A new city. A new county. A new demographic and class. A new dynamic of social injustice that i haven't had be aware of. now, it’s my town. It’s my home. & I believe it’s just the beginning of observing and understanding the powers at play that cause this place to be a place of fear, danger, violence. And at the very same time, a place of hope, community, & love.
I get it now. Choosing to live somewhere makes the problems of that place your own. It’s not just “that community’s unfortunate situation.” That “community” you’re referring to is now mine– all of it – the joys and the mess that comes with living in an (sub)urban poor neighborhood.
---
I had come home later than usual from work that night, and decided I needed to take a walk to shake some life into my body from all the sitting I did. A simple walk to and through the baylands…and o yes, I’ll take my camera. I’ve wanted to shoot around my neighborhood. My gut told me: 1)be careful. 2)take your ID only. 3)don’t be out too long. 4)put your camera in a bag. My gut also forgot to tell me… “stay home, it’s gonna be dark soon.” (ha!)
I was halfway down the block, when I stopped to take pictures of an abandoned lot. There was a beauty in the abandonment that I saw and wanted to capture. A man came out of his home and asked me what I was doing. He was big(ger) than me; maybe 5’11” and heavier set. I got a weird vibe, but oddly still wanted to engage.
It was probably about 30 seconds later that Jackie and her 15 month old daughter walked over and said hello. She was drinking beer out of a Gatorade bottle, and told me about the street and how dangerous it is….and that even though she grew up around the corner, she still gets scared to walk down the street at night. She went on about the evil and dangers of EPA...meanwhile, the man was still lingering around.
Call me dense, but I wasn’t picking up on the cue. Jackie finally says, “I’ll walk you home” and gives me a wink. It hits me; I’m supposed to go with her. So, I take a couple more snaps and then we walk/talk together. The man slowly walks away as we walk back to the farm.
Jackie tells me that she was going to go the other direction, but felt like God told her she needed to go the other way, and down my street. "Do you understand, God sent me this direction." She goes on warn me about the dangers of being here and share some of her story with me, including: almost being killed by her boyfriend, the death of a baby, another horrible relationship, and the miracle of her baby Elena that brought fresh tears to her worn eyes.
She imparted some of her lessons learned, street smarts, and clear direction about what not to do next time – or ever again. Jackie invited me to her god-parents' home on the 2000 block of pulgas ave. as a safe place to go where "there ain't no trouble there." We hugged and departed ways.
I walked back to the barn, alarmed. My heart was caught off guard. It was fully open, ready to receive, ready to give … yet jolted into a new reality - neither good nor bad - just new. This encounter has changed me.
I’m in a city that needs a lot of love, commitment, & prayer for healing and justice.
---
honestly, i’m kinda scared and am reflecting on what it means to make home here. i have no plans on moving out.away.far.escaping. this place. most people try to get out of the "ghetto" and escape all the dangers that come with being in such a place, but what drew me to move here has seized my attention once again and is shedding light on a facet i did not know existed.
this experience has caused two realizations:
1. i must have a rightful fear and respect for these streets i live on.
2. documenting life on the farm is a beautiful thing, but it does not capture all of it's beauty unless the context in which it dwells, is represented (i.e. the city/people/culture of EPA)
so, welcome to this journey.
i hope that the discovery of all the facets of this place ultimately illuminates the beauty of this gem of a city....and that in seeing that beauty, we are all changed.
but this kind, i had only heard about.
on Wednesday, i experienced it.
i walked back to the barn chugging a new concoction of fear & intrigue.
---
jackie & elena (below) saved me from the unknown danger that I was in – a danger that I had no idea about. my encounter with them was divine. God literally sent them around the corner and around my way to “interrupt” a conversation I started having with a neighbor down the street.
---
if you know me, you know that I’m friendly. I like talking to strangers. I’m trusting. I like to engage and hear people’s stories. & I’ve especially been eager to get to know my neighbors here in my new neighborhood.
last wednesday, it finally hit me. I live in “the hood” … it’s a place that I can’t roam freely or run/bike/walk whenever I want … it’s a place where I need to be careful of who I trust and interact with. Unfortunately, that’s just sort of the way it is. It’s what I signed up for when I decided to move here.
it ain’t no Palo Alto anymore, sista.
I’m in East Palo Alto now. A new city. A new county. A new demographic and class. A new dynamic of social injustice that i haven't had be aware of. now, it’s my town. It’s my home. & I believe it’s just the beginning of observing and understanding the powers at play that cause this place to be a place of fear, danger, violence. And at the very same time, a place of hope, community, & love.
I get it now. Choosing to live somewhere makes the problems of that place your own. It’s not just “that community’s unfortunate situation.” That “community” you’re referring to is now mine– all of it – the joys and the mess that comes with living in an (sub)urban poor neighborhood.
---
I had come home later than usual from work that night, and decided I needed to take a walk to shake some life into my body from all the sitting I did. A simple walk to and through the baylands…and o yes, I’ll take my camera. I’ve wanted to shoot around my neighborhood. My gut told me: 1)be careful. 2)take your ID only. 3)don’t be out too long. 4)put your camera in a bag. My gut also forgot to tell me… “stay home, it’s gonna be dark soon.” (ha!)
I was halfway down the block, when I stopped to take pictures of an abandoned lot. There was a beauty in the abandonment that I saw and wanted to capture. A man came out of his home and asked me what I was doing. He was big(ger) than me; maybe 5’11” and heavier set. I got a weird vibe, but oddly still wanted to engage.
It was probably about 30 seconds later that Jackie and her 15 month old daughter walked over and said hello. She was drinking beer out of a Gatorade bottle, and told me about the street and how dangerous it is….and that even though she grew up around the corner, she still gets scared to walk down the street at night. She went on about the evil and dangers of EPA...meanwhile, the man was still lingering around.
Call me dense, but I wasn’t picking up on the cue. Jackie finally says, “I’ll walk you home” and gives me a wink. It hits me; I’m supposed to go with her. So, I take a couple more snaps and then we walk/talk together. The man slowly walks away as we walk back to the farm.
Jackie tells me that she was going to go the other direction, but felt like God told her she needed to go the other way, and down my street. "Do you understand, God sent me this direction." She goes on warn me about the dangers of being here and share some of her story with me, including: almost being killed by her boyfriend, the death of a baby, another horrible relationship, and the miracle of her baby Elena that brought fresh tears to her worn eyes.
She imparted some of her lessons learned, street smarts, and clear direction about what not to do next time – or ever again. Jackie invited me to her god-parents' home on the 2000 block of pulgas ave. as a safe place to go where "there ain't no trouble there." We hugged and departed ways.
I walked back to the barn, alarmed. My heart was caught off guard. It was fully open, ready to receive, ready to give … yet jolted into a new reality - neither good nor bad - just new. This encounter has changed me.
I’m in a city that needs a lot of love, commitment, & prayer for healing and justice.
---
honestly, i’m kinda scared and am reflecting on what it means to make home here. i have no plans on moving out.away.far.escaping. this place. most people try to get out of the "ghetto" and escape all the dangers that come with being in such a place, but what drew me to move here has seized my attention once again and is shedding light on a facet i did not know existed.
this experience has caused two realizations:
1. i must have a rightful fear and respect for these streets i live on.
2. documenting life on the farm is a beautiful thing, but it does not capture all of it's beauty unless the context in which it dwells, is represented (i.e. the city/people/culture of EPA)
so, welcome to this journey.
i hope that the discovery of all the facets of this place ultimately illuminates the beauty of this gem of a city....and that in seeing that beauty, we are all changed.
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