Well, I’ve been in Camden for two weeks. I’ve been planning for my return ever since I left five years ago and have been busy studying classism and racism and urban cultures of violence, going to conferences on community development, traveling abroad to beef up my Spanish skills – all with Camden in mind. There have been countless conversations with a whole slew of diverse people about the dreams and fears and questions that go along with the idea of coming back. Then there’s the nine months I spent roaming the planet, getting the adventure itch out of my system so that I could readily plant myself here and grow some roots.
I’ve been preparing to transplant myself into Camden for so
long, and now I’m here and there is nothing spectacular or dazzling about it by
any means. But it is good.
I live in South Camden across the street from a liquor store
(ours opens at 9am - earlier than any other liquor store in the city) and the
closest house with people that actually live in it is a block away, so the neighbors I
have had the most interactions with this far are the regulars at the liquor
store and the crews that like to sit on our front stoop and deal drugs. They
might be into some shady means of supporting themselves, but they help me back
out of my driveway, offer to finish sweeping up the sidewalk when I come out with
a broom, and let strangers know I’m “a Christian girl, not no prostitute!” so I
can’t complain.
My housemates and community members have already established
their rhythms of life, so I am kind of the odd fish, floundering around and wrestling
with what being here should look like, and I’m sure all of my optimism and
ideals seem cute to them.
And while the certified nursing assistant class I found
downtown is probably the easiest class I’ve ever taken in my life, I’m learning
a lot about how education can be done well for people who haven’t had the
ability to finish high school or make it to college. I’m also learning a lot culturally.
The class has adopted me as their pet white girl. Most of them are confused
about why I want to be living in Camden and think it’s hilarious that I know
more Spanish than some of the hispanic people in the class, but they’ve embraced
me with open arms, love laughing at the inevitably ultra-white and middle class
things I say and do, and have taken it upon themselves to teach me important
things about living in the hood. I love them all already. And my street
vocabulary is growing just as much as my medical vocabulary. To top it all off,
I could really get used to wearing scrubs every day.
The past few weeks have also brought with them a crash
course on the great perks of adulthood, like car insurance and the processes
and expenses that come with moving and attempting to be financially independent.
My savings account keeps reminding me that it doesn’t like hanging out so
dangerously close to empty, but I landed a job at a diner (that’s got a super diverse
staff and is into healthy, local food!), so barring surprise expenses for the
next few months, all should be well. And if not, my roommates and I have bets that
a pair of friendly elderly twins that hang out in front of our house all day
are loan sharks, so I could just support the local economy. ;)
At any rate, even though there is a part of my soul that
longs to be in a place where I can see the beauty of the changing seasons,
breathe in clean air and hike through mountains, my soul is overwhelmingly glad
to be in this place. There’s so much growing to be done here. I’ve been
challenged and humbled and tripped up already in just a few short weeks. I’ve
had loads of opportunities to love God well, love people well, and love myself
well, and am pumped for those opportunities to keep showing up so that I can
get better at recognizing them and taking them. One of the best realizations I’ve
had in the past few days is that unlike the past several years of my life where
I’ve been jumping from one thing to the next, I have time here. Time to ease
in, to build a balanced life, to grow relationships. I’m not leaving anytime
soon. Which means that I can invite DaShawn (the grinning 13 year old that
stops by multiple times a day) in to cook sometimes, and sometimes I can turn
him away without feeling like I’ve thrown away a precious opportunity. I can
have days where I’m really invested in others and days where I am tired and need
to spend time alone to recharge. I think it’s going to be a challenge for me to
stop letting the fear of not-enough-time have so much power over me, but I am
comforted by the time that I have in Camden and look forward to learning how to
thrive in this place.
3 comments:
Ellen, trying for my third time to post a comment. Loved this post. Keep your reflections coming. You bless us with you insights and deep faith. I could say more, but I want to make sure I can post this. God bless.
Seems like it worked. Take care!! When will I see you and Adam again?
Ah, yes, the fun and reality of adult independence! And self-advocacy! Glad it's becoming a good fit for you. We miss you here, of course, but love to read your blogs about your life and experiences - how you see them and roll with them and make the most of them! You go, white Spanish-speaking girl!
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