Alive (Gwen)

I know that I am not alone in walking through my life with an ache of boredom and dissatisfaction somewhere deep in my bones. I know that I am not alone in so often feeling restless and unfulfilled. As my senior year wears on and new worlds of responsibility come into view, the rhythms of the daily grind weigh on me more heavily than ever.

Tonight, for the first time in months, I feel free. Service creates a new kind of ache; rather than the dull emptiness, it feels like the twinge of a muscle well used. It's a hunger to do more, a growing feeling of strength and empowerment.

I spent the day at Our School at Blair Grocery. It's a complicated concept that boils down to an alternative school in the Lower 9th Ward which educates students who have been left behind by the public school system, using an organic urban garden as a teaching tool as well as to sustain themselves financially and increase community access to healthy fresh food. It's a rambling, chaotic compound based in a former corner grocery, smelling of chickens and compost. There's a handmade energy to the whole place- the dilapidated chain link fence is decorated with a canary yellow sun made of scrap wood, the greenhouses have names like "starship nine" painted in bright colors over their entrances- and the volunteers tend towards Birkenstocks and nose piercings. The organization itself is as disorganized as its premises, and for the first part of the day I was frustrated by the seeming lack of direction or purpose. We'd had no orientation, so I had only a vague and incoherent idea of what Our School was even doing.

Finally, as we packed up for the day, one of the directors of the program finally found time to sit down and talk to us. I watched the sun-leathered lines at the corners of his eyes dance as he explained the school, talked about his students, talked about farming and food justice and experiential learning and real education. The K-8 school a few blocks away went home for the day as he was speaking and suddenly a slow trickle of energetic kids began to arrive. The proceeds of the vegetable sales allow them to pay some students a stipend to work on the gardens after school, but I realize that these students aren't here for anything so formal. The place is exploding with love and joy. It's a community, and it's real.

Our School at Blair Grocery is a rare, true grassroots group. It's haphazard, it's piecemeal and it doesn't play to expectations. It serves the needs of the people as they arise. Organizations can only stay in that state for a limited number of years; it's not a sustainable model past the initial burst of activity. But in that brief window- what an exhilarating place. It's raw. It's intense. It's alive. For the first time in months, I feel alive.

"If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time.

But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together."

-Lilla Watson

This quote was painted on the shed door today, and it sums up pretty well why I do what I do. This isn't charity. This isn't "doing something nice." This is recognizing that as humans we are all connected to each other, and then it's putting that recognition into action.

I am grateful to Blair Grocery tonight. Their energy was exactly the kind of jolt that I needed.