Lessons

So here we are, a few blog posts in, things are going well, you're laughing at my jokes (hopefully) and I'm feeling cool because I have a blog. You might be thinking, "Hey, this is great writing from an intensely funny person, but what is he actually doing in Baltimore? And where the heck is Guilford Ave.?"

I'm glad you asked. I am currently working as a Jesuit Volunteer at the St. Frances Community Center in Baltimore, MD (MD stands for Maryland- you know, the state with the crab cakes and the harbor and all those Catholics). My official title at the center is Assistant Director, though how they came to believe I could assistantly direct anything is beyond me. But hey, we live and we learn, right? Being a Jesuit Volunteer basically means that I pledge to live by the four values of JVC: community, spirituality, social justice, and simple living. More on these fancy concepts later, but simple living means an $85 paycheck each month. So you understand my obsession with meat in the previous post.

Moving right along! During this first week at work, I have been doing a lot of people-meeting and document-reading (I even got an official email address!) Mr. Moore, the Director of the center and my boss, has been keeping me on my toes from the moment I arrive each day. A lifelong Baltimorean (Baltimorean? Baltimorite? Someone from Baltimore?), Mr. Moore has spent the last 8 years at the center and his work has been invaluable to the community. He has a relentlessly engaging personality, he loves Motown music (he told me he was the 6th Temptation. I believed him.), and he even lives 2 blocks from our house!

This week, Mr. Moore took me on a walking tour of the community in which St. Frances resides and which it serves. The neighborhoods I'm talking about are Brentwood Village and Johnston Square, which basically means the area between the Fallsway and Eden St (W to E) and Eager St. to Hoffman St. (S to N) Either get a map and find it, or pretend you know where this is and continue reading.

On our walk, Mr. Moore told me the story of this neighborhood. He told me about the vibrant rowhomes that were built, only to be replaced by high-rise public housing units, and how those were replaced by low-income project homes. He showed me entire blocks of boarded-up windows and doors, and street corners with no local businesses. He told me that average income in this neighborhood hovers around $10,000, and that unemployment hits at 80%. I was losing faith, and I had only been out there for an hour.

Then he told me about 2007, when an open air drug market was forming right outside of St. Frances. Drug dealers were handing out free samples and were violating the unspoken "buffer zone" around the school grounds. Mr. Moore and members of administration (including the JV at the time) organized a "Peace March" through the streets to reclaim their neighborhood. Hundreds of community members walked in solidarity with each other with the steadfast refusal to give up their homes to violence and crime. Banners were posted on lamp posts denoting the "Peace Zone," and they still fly today. I came to realize that St. Frances and the Community Center are beacons of light to this neighborhood that is overshadowed by the daunting tower of the Maryland state penitentary, and that the work we are doing is utterly important.

I look forward to learning from Mr. Moore. He seemed to have a conversation with each person we met on the streets, and a talk between himself and a man named Mr. Jones revealed to me the far-reaching effect of his work, and of the dangers involved in improving this neighborhood. Mr. Jones told me that he would have had a molotov cocktail thrown through his window had he not personally known the members of a gang whom he was accused of selling out to the police. Mr. Moore also said that he would never give out or sell any of the information of the men and women who come to community events (many of whom have troubled pasts). He said that trust is key. This suprised me, then I understood. Life in the city is complex, and how can community leaders like Mr. Moore and Mr. Jones ask for trust and respect if they are not willing to give it to everyone, including criminals?

And so goes another lesson from the illustrious Mr. Moore. I can't wait to see what kind of intellectually-stimulating nugget he has for me tomorrow (I could listen to this man talk all day; he seriously sounds just like James Earl Jones. Maybe I'll try to get him to say "Luke, I am your father," or "Bell Atlantic, the heart of communication." I might even ask him where the Sandlot is!)