When last we visited the GTI team...The bus trip turned out just fine. When I arrived at the Motel that evening, having wondered during the day who was clearing the snow from the parking lot (answer: Nobody), the bus was there with a few early comers sitting inside waiting, and a couple more standing outside in the ankle deep slush having a smoke.
One couple, R & S, got on the bus, but had to get off again after a few minutes. He's been in some pretty fierce pain lately and trying to avoid the heavier meds. So he's hurting and wanted to go to the dinner for his lady's sake, but couldn't face the bus ride, not knowing what the chairs would be like at the hall and not having any quick bail out option should he want to go home early. So they couldn't come. Neither could CL. She's been pretty stressed lately and has a headache that just won't go away.
SW came in his own car to the Motel and picked up a few passengers who didn't want to or couldn't take the bus (including the guy who didn't want to be seen getting off it). J and K picked up one or two on their way to the hall after work.
Disembarking, we were welcomed by half a dozen smiling and friendly Santa hat wearing young people and by the smell of the meal wafting out into the dark. Nice.
There hadn't been more than 20 of us rattling around in a full size school bus, but by the time serving started there were, I figure, about 80 people seated.
The cook, who also works on the Sally Army lunch here in town, did a wonderful job and on the way home, spirits were higher, laughter stronger and voices louder than on the way there.
We'd brought with us a stack of foil take-out containers with lids which our hosts gladly filled with meals. One I gave to H., asking him to give it to his neighbour. H. said he'd be glad to, but he'd have to try to catch the guy some time when he came out of his room. Turns out we scared him so badly during the inspection that he won't answer his door any more. I feel badly about that one.
The other thing that happened this week is HelpPortrait. You can get the idea here.
That was pretty cool.
Unfortunately, the actual photographer who wanted to come give pictures was sick on the day. So the guy who was organizing the thing, S., scrambled some equipment from a helpful neighbour and took the photos himself.
I was there for 2 1/2 hours of the 4, and it was lovely. S. writes...
And did anyone show up to have their photo taken? People were standing outside, attired in their best dress-up wear, when I arrived, and we had a steady flow of smiling faces for the next four hours (smiling except for a couple of the young guys who were too cool to smile, preferring more of a thug image). A couple of highlights were the man who hadn’t been able to get a couple of small photos taken to send with an application for citizenship, and the young woman whose 2 year old son doesn’t live with her at the motel. Her mother brought the little boy for a visit while we were doing portraits and we ended up catching some lovely family shots with the three of them together. In the end, fifteen individuals or family groups were photographed (a little dog with a red bandanna and a largely uncooperative cat got in on the fun as well).I wasn't there for the grandma/mother/son group, but I can't help thinking that someday that little boy's going to have that picture - and wondering what it'll mean to him.
One of the highlights of the day was a chance to catch up with Beautiful She. She's connected herself to another group of marginalized people - young offenders. She teaches art classes at a local secure facility where so many of these guys find themselves.
She said that some kids come to the classes with natural ability and some have to learn to draw. Which is a chance for one boy to mentor another. Very cool. They've created a training manual that contains some lessons for beginners, and a collection of work done by others in the class. The most awesome thing about it is that the writing in the manual is structured in rap.
She said that some of the kids have an affinity for poetry that seems to flow out of listening to rap. They've written some things that she's been able to share in the broader community (without names, of course) and that one boy wrote something that brought in a little revenue, enough to buy some cool new pens for the art class.
It's a wonderful thing to see that circle close. To see someone give back to something that has given to them.
The kids aren't in the facility for long - just a few months - but that's enough time for her to get to know them, to bake them their favourite cookies and to instill in them a sense of what they're capable of.
She said that someone is just starting up a chapter of Toastmasters at the facility. Brilliant. What an amazing way to teach these guys how to communicate, how to present themselves. What a gift - the ability to speak to the world.
Who would ever think of that? Toastmasters at the juvy.
I was talking to a woman a while ago who once a week volunteers at a soup kitchen in the town next door. She knows about my involvement at the Motel and she said to me that she loved to give her time at those lunches, serving the meals and "getting to know the people".
When she said that, I wanted to ask her a question. But I didn't. Maybe I should have. Maybe it would have just alienated her. Maybe it would have sounded dismissive or arrogant. Not sure.
I wanted to ask her how she was getting to know the people.
I wanted to ask her if any one of those people, the ones she 'serves', had ever bought her a coffee. If they'd ever got together away from the soup kitchen and sat down and chatted over a coffee that the one she 'serves' had paid for.
Or if "getting to know the people" consists of knowing whether they prefer coffee or tea and whether they like their bread buttered or plain. Of standing behind a counter, memorizing names.
Maybe I'm being unfair, but I wonder.
It's so easy to give money, give food, give clothing to people. But there are an infinity of ways to connect with the marginalized. There are so many ways that people are hungry. Disconnected.
It's an amazing thing to see how a little imagination, a little time and patience can connect people who might never have gotten beyond, "Here you go." "Thanks."
And it's even more amazing when the "Here you go." "Thanks." get turned 180 degrees and the beneficiary gets the chance to give.
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