In the words of Yogi Berra: it’s like déjà vu all over again. There is a definite pattern in Oakland where something tragic occurs and the Mayor, Ron Dellums, or another leader talks about the need for change.
"In these moments, words are extraordinarily inadequate," Oakland Mayor Ron Dellums told reporters at a news conference Saturday night at Oakland police headquarters. "We come together in shock, in grief, in sadness and sorrow. Our hearts go out to the officers' families who are experiencing a level of tragedy that goes beyond our ability to comprehend."
"These folks leave their homes in the morning, with every expectation of returning," Dellums said, "but they did not."
Several of the articles touched on the fact that there’s a growing sense of hopelessness. People are aware that change is necessary—it’s the buzzword that sold millions of Obama t-shirts—but like all hollow rhetoric, it’s starting to lose its meaning.
I don’t know what needs to be done, either. I don’t think anyone does. I look around at all of the empty buildings in Oakland and wonder if there’s any realistic solution. Even the Tribune building, with its neon red sign that shines brightest above Downtown Oakland, is boarded up.
Last Thursday I watched an episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon, Tina Fey’s character, is dating a guy who has an inflated sense of self due to everyone around him catering to his every need and letting him win because he happens to be really good-looking. They refer to this as “living in the bubble.” Liz also falls into thie trap, but eventually she realizes she can’t continue to be dishonest with this guy. After pointing out several of his shortcomings, the guy becomes extremely frustrated and throws a fit. Eventually he apologizes to Liz and tells her she should come and live in the bubble with him. He confesses to Liz that it’s ironic how much he hated life outside of the bubble. Liz points out that it’s not ironic at all. He laughs and says that he likes the bubble because he can use word ironic however he pleases.
While I was watching that episode the signal kept coming in and out as a helicopter flew atop our apartment building. It turned out that a small convenience store about two blocks from our apartment was held up at gunpoint. The clerk and two customers were shot, but managed to tackle and subdue one of the gunmen.
That’s a little closer than I like my violence to occur.
It made me think of other bubbles in our lives, and one of those is distance, both physical and emotional, from the problems of the most marginalized in society.
One of the JVC houses is located in Berkeley, but they don’t work in Berkeley, most of them work in Oakland. Nothing against the people in that house and the work they do, but in some ways it seems to go against everything that JVC stands for. With that said, when I go over to Berkeley and I see college students, young couples pushing baby strollers, and old hippies in their diesel Mercedes, and a slew of Priuses parked along Shattuck Avenue outside of nice restaurants, I’m a little jealous. I’m able to let my guard down and relax.
I grew up in the suburbs, love the suburbs and will probably someday move back to the suburbs. However, I think it’s important to be aware of the luxuries and privileges we are afforded and often take for granted. When you watch the news and it becomes too graphic and violent you can change the channel, but when it happens down the street it’s harder to ignore.
At several points throughout this year living in Oakland has really started to annoy me and I've felt trapped, but at those times I’ve been able to get away, whether it’s been for a retreat or a visit to another JV house. Though, I’m now starting to see the value in getting even a small sense of what it’s like for those who can’t escape the culture of violence and crime that pervades Oakland.
“Home is not where you live but where they understand you."
-Christian Morgenstern
2 comments:
I liked this one a lot. I've been thinking about the "bubble" thing too lately... I feel like a lot of the time I don't even realize how different my world is from the worlds that other people (like my clients) live in until they collide in disconcerting ways, and then I remember that even though we're trying to live in solidarity I'm still essentially an outsider to their way of life.
Your post really made me pause and think--about the choices I have that I take for granted, and about how much freedom and security that I enjoy. The image of being trapped, in a place that isn't so nice, is really powerful.
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