I am still sore and basically exhausted. This past weekend, I participated in North Country Weekend, which is a Tucker program that brings urban youth to Dartmouth for a weekend. The goal is to give them positive exposure to a college environment, build self-esteem, and show them the great outdoors.
The exposure to the outdoors began Friday night. When the kids had a lot of energy at midnight, we decided to take them on a walk around Occum Pond to well ... wear them out so we volunteers could get some sleep. They loved it so much we took them to Pine Park. As we stood in the entrance, a few said, "You can't see at all ... it's dark" But most of them wanted to continue, so we went on. I must admit that Pine Park scares me at night, but I kept on reassuring them that there was nothing to fear. They kept asking about wild animals saying, "Well, what if moose comes and eat us?" No, there are no moose here, and moose don't eat people. "Well, what if a rabid moose comes?" Um ... there are definitely no moose here. "What if a rabid moose wandered in here by mistake?" Um ... so, um, what do you want to be when you grow up? Despite my feeble efforts to change the subject, the moose topic popped up quite often.
It occurred to me that they didn't feel safe in our environment because it was unfamiliar to them, their only exposure having come from exaggerated stories about moose and other rabid wild animals. Then I realized that I would probably feel the same way in their environment. So I asked one of the older kids how safe their neighborhood was. He told me that at night you had to watch out or the gangs would come up to you, but if you knew where to walk it would be okay. Nonetheless, I think I would draw conclusions and be afraid of the entire neighborhood at all times of day.
I began to wonder how much of the fear we have of each other's environments is real, and how much is based on stories or nonexistent threats. I am still contemplating that subject. Whether it be rabid moose or rampant gangs, the point is that rumors lead to overestimates of danger, and cause us to feel unsafe in the environments of others, which leads to isolation.
I am anxious to go down to Boston at the end of May. A group of North Country Weekend volunteers is spending a day there so that the kids can plan activities for us and show us their homes and hangouts. I hope that this experience will allow me to see what their lives are really like. I hope that I will not be afraid, because I hate to think that these sweet children live in a state of fear. I hope that the threats will turn out to be like the rabid moose, nonexistent, but I fear that the dangers they face are more real, at least at night. I hope that the trip will begin to clear up my misconceptions of city life, and give me a more objective perspective.
The words of Alex Kotlowitz's lecture struck me tonight. He talked about the chasm between inner-cities and the rest of America, and the need to eliminate that chasm. That is what North Country Weekend did: made a tiny bridge between the two worlds. I hope that eventually enough bridges will be built so that the worlds can become one again.
I believe that the kids got a lot out of the weekend, and I hope that it was a step on the road to a college education. The kids loved dancing with Sheba, conquering the ropes course, and making it up to the cabin on the Skiway despite their protests. They will remember these things for a long time.
Saturday night at the cabin, we all gazed in wonder at the stars which filled the sky. They still take my breath away, no matter how many times I see them, and they kids were also absolutely speechless. After all, our worlds aren't that different. No matter how far apart they seem, the beauty of the stars unites us all.
This weekend left me with sore muscles, a few bruises from the ropes course, and a lot of hope. I am looking forward to our Boston trip, and North Country Weekends of the future.
