Life on Olive

Today we moved into the city and talked with the people who we saw on the streets last night. We started off in a soup kitchen this morning where Stephanie and I had the opportunity to talk with Clarence and Keith. They shared gospel with us and opened up with what is going on in their lives. Clarence said that his main problem was the fact that he needed to face his “weakness.” With a little inquiry he bravely displayed a burned crack-pipe. Stephanie asked if he would give it up to her to throw away and he laughed placing it back into his pocket… he then said it was the “other” one in his pocket that she could not have.

The rest of the day consisted of more eye-opening experiences. We visited a shotty but oddly expensive retirement home. There was one television and then a pool table to occupy the residents. The rest of the recreation rooms consisted of rows of chairs that were chained with their backs to the walls and a sad piano that lacked over half of its working keys. I am trying to think back but I am sure there were no pictures on the dirty walls, either. Our day finished with a visit to a children’s after school program, many of whom were children living in skid row.

Amidst all of this I was challenged most by a conversation in a park. During reflection time today I was wandering around the USC campus rose garden when I happened upon a gentleman lounging in the sun. He was an Afro-American man roughly 30 years of age who was missing the lower half of his left leg. On top of a short stone wall he leaned back on what seemed to be a tattered sleeping bag with wooden crutches at his side. We exchanged hellos and he invited me to sit for a while. Right away he pointed out that I was “blonde-haired and blue-eyed” and then proceeded to question me on my views on race and ethnicity. Our ensuing conversation covered everything from our backgrounds to politics and religion. He then pointed out that differences exist among people but in all cultures money drives the hardest wedge.

I have been thinking the rest of the day about what he said. I have friends that are recovering drug addicts, homosexuals or alcoholics. I have been close to eating disorders, handicaps and many other “weaknesses” that can drain and even terrorize a person no matter where they lay their head at night. Oddly, I feel somewhat prepared to encounter “weaknesses.” Today, though, I was challenged most of all when I was asked about the economic wedge. I was challenged because I witnessed a man hurting inside due to the treatment he has received for the fact that he has no money. To this point I cannot figure out why that bell rings the loudest for me, but it does and honestly I am fit with confusion as to what to think about it.

The “invisible wall” (as some call it) that Laura referred to in an earlier blog is called Olive Street. For amusement I Googled “olive” to find something I did not know: olives are bitter by nature and need to be cured before they are good. I was also reminded that the olive branch is a sign of peace. In light of this discovery, I found that street name to be quite sarcastic. Without boring you with more on crazy symbolism I will say that tonight I am praying for a cure to bring peace. I am praying for love.

Jesse