School Uniforms

I caught the bus earlier this morning and was blessed to meet up with a friend who I've developed a relationship with on the bus over about a year and a half. She is Muslim from Gambia with a loving smile and a generous heart. I'm really happy that God has created me to find joy in meeting and talking to new people because I get to find friends like her.

Anyway, we got to talking about life and God's blessing and provision and how we are called to serve with what God has given us. She then shared something that I could, yet couldn't believe, was happening in my neighborhood.

She shared about one of her son's friends. She said that this is a good kid and very bright. He wants to go to college and on top of his school work, take classes at LAtradetech to learn more. However, my friend found out that he quit the football team, and recently that he dropped out of the college prep program called Upward Bound.

She had exhorted him to not give up, but then later found out it was not because of something in his character, but because he didn't have the money to pay for the bus to go to and from Upward Bound. It turns out this is also why he quit the football team. He couldn't pay the $50 needed for the football gear (shoes, mouth guard, stretchy pants...). He also started missing school, and my friend's son found out it was because he didn't have money for a uniform. Some of his friends were letting him borrow their collard shirts...but isn't that crazy! Stereotypically, you'd think kids were not coming to school because they were rebelling or gang banging or something, but here it's because he doesn't have the proper attire to attend school. This was a problem in the squatter community we visited in the Philippines as a result of poverty and different systems at work. But in a city of such wealth, I am deeply disappointed that kids can't go to school because they don't have a uniform or money for a bus pass!

And what makes this situation even more difficult is that even if the school or the Upward Bound program or others in the community could and wanted to help with the bus pass or uniform...many of these students are too embarrased to share their situation in order to get help. I mean you have got to admit...it's pretty humbling. How many of you would feel fine about asking your co-workers for a shirt so you could come to work? And not just as a favor, but because who couldn't buy one yourself.

There is beauty in all this however. The beauty is in this kid's friends letting him borrow their uniforms. My friend's son gave one of his newer shirts to his friend along with a pair of shoes he doesn't wear as much. My friend encouraged her son saying that this is what friends do, they take care of each other. It's also in the generosity of my friend who's a single mom living on $1100 a month, some of which she sends to support her extended family in Africa.

My friend is torn because she wants to help, and feels that it would be helpful to talk to this kid's mom about their situation. However, her son doesn't want her to say anything in case it might mess up his relationship with his friend...violate trust or something. This is a hard place. I want to do something. I know we could find the help he needs.

I can go around the world, or just walk around my block.

So I just returned from an awesome adventure to Switzerland and Italy where I sought out relatives of the Terribilini family in the Ticino Mountains above Locarno, Switzerland, and visited old friends and made some new all over Florence and the surrounding area. It was beautiful.

While I was there, I wasn't that enthusiastic about returning to the busy, dirty city of Los Angeles. However, last night while I was walking to USC, to find some time away from the oven that is my house during these hot summer days, I found something I do enjoy about my city and my neighborhood. I found my Oaxacan neighbor outside laying brick (ladrios) like "they did once upon a time". I considered just waving and continuing on my way, but instead I turned around to say hi and asked if I could come inside and see what he was doing. Struggling with communicating in Spanish (I had Italian on the brain) we shared a wonderful evening. I learned about laying brick, using the earth, rather than cement to seal in the cracks. I learned about plans for the garden that he was going to plant around his house and some new vocab words like herba buena (mint) and ortaliza (vegetable garden), and how Flor de Hawaii is called Flor de Mayo in Oaxaca. Then I just sat on the steps while he worked away eventually spending some time talking to his wife when she got home from work. I learned that their little chihuahua mix is named Trevi after the artist Gloria Trevi because apparently she was a bit crazy and that fit's Trevi's personality well. I was happy. It was like a little piece of Italy around the corner in the sense that I got to operate in a different language, that I got to learn about gardening and simple living, and the joy of just sitting and being with people.

At one point the fruit truck drove by and I went and picked out a mango, some bananas and plums. My fruit vendor blessed me in Spanish and told me to take care of myself and I shared some smiles with another neighbor, who was also out buying fruit this evening, after she tried to explain on my behalf why I didn't need plastic bags for my fruit :-).

It was a good night. Thank you God for the gifts you give your children.