Day Three - January 8th - The Castro - "Where are you guys from?"

Hello again.  Its about day ten or so. This was my reflection from day three.

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Today I was struck by other-ness and lack of other-ness as much as anything ironically. And it all came from eating in a food kitchen.

On one hand, eating in a food kitchen is a great equalizer. There are people there who are homeless. There are people there who are not homeless. It is difficult with many of them to tell the difference. We are not homeless. At the same time, if we are to spend three weeks here, we need to take advantage of cheap or free meals. One commonality between us and everyone else there is that we are all hungry. In that case, we are all equal, no one any better or any worse than anyone else.  Some more privileged than others to be sure, but no better or worse. We come as people, just that, all of us broken and human and hungry. Hungry for lots of stuff, but mostly just food.

On the other hand, we stand out like sore thumbs. In one simple question, one innocent, kind, normal, everyday sort of question, that was revealed to me.  He asked, "Where are you guys from?"

Language is an interesting thing.  It always means just what it means. Most of the time it also means something else. Often contained within it are a myriad of questions and comments and statements.  Layers upon layers. To miss the underlying layers is sometimes to miss the point entirely.

Five simple words.  "Where are you guys from?" And we all hesitated to answer.  I hesitated because I recognized the many layers of that question.  The answer was simple but complex.

Berkeley.

But the question had other statements built in. Some of them I may have been manufacturing, but most of them I probably wasn't.

"Where are you guys from?"
You are together.
You are not from here.
You have not been here before.
Why are you here?
Why did you come to this place, today?
You are not the same as everyone else here.

Something was different. Was it because we came as a group of six? Was it because of something else?

"Where are you guys from?"

There were people better dressed than I was. There were people who were younger, more handsome, more clean shaven. I can't be sure, but I bet there were other people there for the first time, but we were set apart with one question, one innocent question, as being different.

"Where are you guys from?"

Berkeley.

And the follow up question was even more telling.

"From the theology school?"

It could have been the logo on my hoodie but I'm not so sure.  Maybe "baby pastor" is tattooed on our foreheads, only readable by managers of food kitchens, other pastors, and small woodland creatures. Or maybe we stood out in some other way.

The answer, like the question itself, could be very simple or could be even more complex than I am making it. How can I be totally trusted as one of the people if I stand out this much?  Do I even want to be?

He was the manager/owner of the property as he let on later. Does his compassion to run such a place give him the prescience to see through our masks?

We were insiders and equal.

"Where are you guys from?"

We were outsiders and separate.