Hey there. If you're joining me from the Pastor's Husband blog, welcome, if not welcome anyway. For those of you who have been around, but not with it, I've been writing another blog chronicling my journey toward becoming a pastor's husband--since there aren't a lot of resources available or stories abound about what it looks like to be called into such a position. However, this blog is not about that, if you want to read about that journey, you can find those posts at: http://apastorshusband.blogspot.com/ Feel free to share it out, read it, comment, and all of those wonderful things.
This is about something real.
This is about something sad.
This is about a city that is killing itself from the inside out.
I don't know if you have all been made aware of last's nights happenings, but Milwaukee was the sight of, what most would consider, some race riots. There were cars set on fire, an auto parts store set on fire, a bank set on fire, a man of color was shot and killed (again) by the police, cars were wrecked, and the neighborhood was trashed.
I saw the news this morning, in my Facebook feed as my friends and church family were posting news articles, videos, and other responses to the incident. I had no idea...
I realize that I've been out of Milwaukee for nearly 5 years now. I realize that my ties to the city are slowly lapsing into distant memories. I realize that I'm a white person who is protected from having to worry about the state of the city.
I still hurt.
I still worry.
I still weep.
I still love.
My time in Milwaukee was spent mostly in the "heart of the hood." It was considered, then and now, one of the roughest/toughest/hardest neighborhoods in the city.
Is it true? Maybe.
What makes a neighborhood rough, tough or hard?
Could it be the lack of resources available?
Could it be the lack of gainful employment opportunities?
Could it be the lack of wide spread community supports?
Could it be the lack of love?
Could it be the lack of appreciation?
Could it be the lack of.... you finish the sentence and the answer remains the same. Yes!
It is a lack of something that makes these neighborhoods rough, tough and hard. The people who live there are doing their best to survive and what do they get in return? A lot of nothing, really. They get their food from the corner liquor store because it's the closest place, they cash their checks at the corner money exchange depots. They walk the streets picking up cans to sell the aluminum because they can't get any other jobs--they went to jail for this, that or the next thing and nobody will hire them now.
They pick up cans to support their families. They turn to the streets, who offer them open arms, love, guns and drugs. They go where they can be supported, find the funds to support the ones they love, they go where they can to get what the need. Not unlike me. It's just that it seems much easier for me to find the love and support that I need in order to make a life for myself than my friends and family are experiencing in Milwaukee. Why is that?
Now, I know this is a touchy subject. There is a right and wrong way to be a supporter of any movement, or whatever you might be thinking this is. I know that there are things, out of my control, that allow me to walk freely through places, to ask and receive help, and it's mostly the color of my skin. Yes, I get funny looks when I walk around people with my short sleeves and shorts--but that's tattoos not skin color discrimination. My tattoos set me a part from my non-modified white brothers and sisters, but when I lace up my teacher clothes, you'd be hard pressed to pick me out of a tattooed line up--you can't tell. So, it remains a skin issue. My is the right shade, whereas my brothers of sisters of color do not stand the same chances that I do--it kills me!
My wife and I have had plenty of conversations about such things, but since both of us are white it doesn't really amount to much. We've been through anti-racism training, we have seen the effects of institutionalized racism, we benefit from the effects of institutionalized racism, but that's where it stops. Where do I go? What do I do? What can I do? How do I continue this conversation with my white brothers and sisters?
I honestly don't know. I hesitate to say anything for the fear of social backlash, but it has come to the point where I feel like I needed to say something. So, I did. I have no inclination that this will lead to anything, but it's out there now--on the internet, which means it will be there forever. That's the magic of the internet!
In other news. It is my hope that my wife and I will be able to be more productive in the push to remedy the systems we belong to, once we start the next phase of our lives. My wife is on the verge of stepping into her own pulpit, and I will begin working in a new school district here shortly (fingers crossed). As a pastor and a teacher in a city that has had it's share of trouble, with it's own problems, it is my hope that we will be able to light a fire of hope that spreads throughout the city.
That's all we need really are beacons of hope to spring up all over the cities, towns, villages and world. People need to know that there are people out there, still, who care for them. There are refuges that can be sought out for resources of all kinds. There are lights that are burning on the hilltop, not covered by a bushel, beckoning the people home. I have listed a few of the lights that I know shine bright for all of those in need below... these organizations, places, and people are all certifiable in the eyes of God. From pastors, lay people, churches, gardens, outreach communities and more. There are people out there who are fighting the good fight along side those who hurt and hunger. I want to be in that number; I want to be a part of the light that brings solace to the people who need it, and be there for those who don't know they need it yet.
It could be as simple as holding up a sign along side the road merely reminding people to smile, like my friend Josh Coburn did this weekend. Or creating an organization called Shower to the People! It doesn't really matter what it is you choose to do as long as your being a beacon of hope for those who may have lost it along the way.
There isn't a day goes by that I don't think back over what might have happened if I didn't walk away from All People's when I did. I saw a lot of growth, I experienced a lot of hurt, and I was known in the neighborhood as the "All Peoples guy," which still means a lot to me. I was recognized on the bus a couple of times, I was greeted as I walked to and from the city bus stop, I made a difference in the people's lives just by being there to pick them up in the van on a Wednesday night. That was my part of the light--a consistent presence, and they remember that. When I have been back to visit people remember me and get excited to see my face again. So, really, we have no idea how much a smile, a shower, even a book can mean in the lives of the people in our communities. We can be the difference we want to see in the world, merely by offering a smile; a listening ear; a word of prayer; a moment of support!
As a teacher I get to live this out every day, whether the students know it or not. However, there is a deeper stirring in my soul. A deeper urge to do something more than be a teacher. Yes, I want to be a teacher, but I want to do something else--something different as well. I want to be a beacon of hope in the city, for the city. I want to do a van ministry again. I miss that. I miss driving around, picking people up to take them to church; taking them to concerts; giving tours of the city; going to the pizza joint and movies. I want to do that again...
Here's that list:
The Body & Soul Healing Center
Alice's Garden
All Peoples Church
Central City Churches Outreach
Spirit of Peach Lutheran Church
Trinity Lutheran Church
G-Bull Ministries Facebook
St. Vincent De Paul Society
I realize that this is an abrupt ending, but so goes life. It begins and ends in a flash, but the question remains: what are you going to do with the time you're given? As for me and my house, we're going to shine a light into the world and hope to do some good. What about you?
In the final words, I want to share a song with you. It has served me well, and I hope that you can find some solace in it as well.
The song is called, oddly enough, 'Hope.' It is performed by a band called Hands. It tells a story that I feel we can all relate to. It goes something like this:
All my life I've been searching
Face by Face and Day by Day
I've walked a hundred shorelines
But all my footsteps
Have been taken by the waves
I've trusted, and I've loved
I've reached out time and time again
I've lied and I've betrayed
I've whispered evil things to the wind
Everything I've seen or felt or heard
Has left me with no purpose or meaning or reason
But if I were to curse God and die
That would be the ultimate treason
Though I feel so dead
Even Though I'm Alive
It's the things that I have done
That I could never deny
I met a man the other day
As he pulled me aside
He told me slowly
With a fire burning in his eyes
I know who you are
I know where you've been
I've walked the same shorelines
I've felt the same winds
I've lied and betrayed
And I've said evil things
I've put my trust in the world
And I know what it brings
I remember my wife
And the love that we've shared
And the smile on her face
And the smell of her hair
On the day that we met
I was dead inside
But then she spoke these words
Fire burning in her eyes
"The Lord knows who you are
And he knows where you've been
He keeps an eye on the shores
And His ears to the wind"
When you make your bed in pit of hell
He'll stay by your side and he'll love you still
Well it's been five years that she's been gone
I've given you her words that you might carry them on
This is Love! This is Love! THIS IS LOVE! THIS IS LOVE! THIS IS LOVE!
If you want to listen to it, you can go to here: "Hope" by Hands from the Sounds of the Earth EP
Thanks,
Andy J. Graves
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