Not far from home

Though I had never been in this older house before in Jersey City, it is familiar as are the people in the neighborhood.  The house is worn, but warm with lots of character and love. Outside, the memories of my childhood in the Bronx as it was “burning” in the 80’s seem so vivid here and yet I have not thought of them for many years.  I was determined to leave them behind when I made a home for my sons.  Here I faced sometimes unpleasant memories and reconciled them with the reality in front of me. 

My initial emotion was disdain for the neighborhood, it’s unkempt streets and old homes, some abandoned and boarded up.   I saw what most outsiders probably do, but I should know better having grown up in a similar neighborhood.  I didn’t know what made me more uncomfortable: the fact that I felt unsafe or my prejudice against these strangers and the neighborhood.  I thought I was less judgemental.  I have been in poorer places around the world and could see the beauty in simplicity and have compassion for their hardships. I rarely felt unsafe. Something about this place brought me back to my childhood. Funny how you hold on to things without realizing.

I did not like my own thoughts or emotions.  I had to face them and sit with them for a while.  First I justified them as necessary for self preservation, but I knew that was an excuse.  I was forced to re-examine my childhood and young adult years with fresh eyes and let them go.   There were plenty of painful memories, fear and feelings of never belonging, but the reality is they had nothing to do with the neighborhood or the people in front of me.  Most people were actually friendly,  especially the children.

My son was blessed with a warm welcome every time we went to the neighborhood park.  He is outgoing (unlike me) and makes friends easily. The children never judged him for his appearance or as a stranger, unlike my experiences as a child.  Multiage groups of children played together, watched out for each other, shared and included my son in a way that contrasted so much with the children in our own middle class neighborhood that it struck me. These children reminded me to look at all people and places with fresh eyes.  My son’s innocent perspective enabled me to let go of my preconceived opinions and my past pains and move on. I left this 10 day house sit feeling more comfortable in this neighborhood and in my own skin.