4.18.07

In 2002 when Colleen first moved to Chicago I had just started volunteering with Starfish. I wasn’t part of the movie class but was helping by doing graphic design for the year end screening. We were running late and had to take a cab into the neighborhood, at that time Starfish was working with the North of Howard kids in a neighborhood called “The Juneway Jungle”. We didn’t know exactly where the building was and just asked to be dropped off by the El stop. I got out and looked around, it was a little overwhelming, I didn’t see any white people, just blacks, except for three or four cop cars with officers hangin around the street. I didn’t know which way to walk, and Colleen clutched my arm, fresh from Colorado. After looking around a little bit, a cop whistled at us and called us over. “what are you guys doin’ here?” he asked. I told him we were lost so he says… “Well, see that corner over there, don’t you dare go past that, and don’t hang out here either, get your change and get outta here?” why I asked, wondering if it really was a bad neighborhood. “they don’t call it the Jungle for nothing” he says, and made promises of the lurking danger.

Colleen and I both had a freak out right on the spot, we were so scared I remember my heart racing and looking around I assumed everyone there was going to jump me, every person became a crook, every kid was suspicious, we walked fast, I was panicked and looking back with every step…

The following year was my first full year in Starfish. That summer we shot a movie called “The Sidewalk” out there on the streets, one intersection down from where that cop had said “they don’t call it the jungle for nuthin” Two white guys and an army of black kids shot a movie about the lies and deceitfulness that pit one person against another. Never once was there a problem on those streets. When people came up to talk us it was because they were interested in what we were doing and wanted to be in the movie, except for the cops who came and tried to shut down our shoot.

Colleen is taking an urban/social class on the neighborhood that’s being offered by Breakthrough. Last night they went to the local precinct to see the holding cells and talk to the officers. They were shown maps f the drug zones in the neighborhood, and the hot spots for gangs… apparently our house is in the middle of one those marked off areas. They were told that there are 65,000 people living in our ward, and that 27,000 of them have been previously arrested. The officer warned not to move into the neighborhood, too many drugs, too many gangs, and not enough hope.

Tonight we got home and there was a kid in our alley with his dog. I had seen him before from our deck, three houses over in a muddy yard with a big white church van, windows taped up. His dog was mean and vicious. I stood behind the safety of our linked gate and asked him what kind of dog it was. “German Shepard… his name is Unassuming” he said… I tried to start some chit-chat. I couldn’t figure him out right away, was he a punk kid or what.

Hi sister Lawanda comes skipping down and embraces the dog and says hi. The dog was growling and jumping at me, but loving to her. I asked if I could open the gate, they said to wait while the put the dog up.
Lawanda is 25, the oldest of the Kelly family… she has 14 younger siblings, they have the house two up from us, and also another house around the corner, their family is so big they have two houses. The kid was her brother, Ray, seventeen and already in college, he wants to be a cinematographer, so I told him about starfish and next thing you know I’m inviting him on a shoot and to come check out the movie class.

Two minutes earlier I had supposed he was a punk and was trying to decide if it was safe for Colleen if I opened the gate to talk to this stranger in our alley, I guess the stats and diagrams from the night before at the police station had affected me too. We went on to talk for fifteen minutes and joked about how we should have all seventeen of them over for dinner in our little place.

When we walked upstairs, started to put groceries away, I thought, “you know Colleen, in all the neighborhoods we’ve lived in, and in every apartment, that was hands down the most open and inviting conversation we’ve had with any of our past neighbors…” she agreed.

I don’t know if I’ll ever figure out why that officer said “They don’t call it the jungle for nuthin…” one thing is for sure though, until I started hanging out with those kids up there, I was genuinely scared to head up that way.

Here's our new condo building...

Our mad, mad mission...

It is a strange feeling to be misplaced. About two months ago God spoke to me during a time when I felt a lot of uneasiness. I prayed over what I thought God had told me. I started obeying Him and pursuing Him. Before I knew it God had us packed up in a moving van, going to the westside of Chicago, with a mission.

I knew the mission wasn't going to be easy, but I never guessed I would feel as misplaced as I do. Perhaps that feeling is just what God wanted to accomplish? Perhaps a mission, doesn't mean that you accomplish anything? Maybe a mission is just putting your conviction into action? Maybe a mission is 10% obedience and 90% patience.

Last night I clung to the book of Isaiah. I started realizing that God is the one who deserves glory. And I really want Him to have the glory for whatever He will accomplish with us being in this new neighborhood. This verse was particularly comforting to me:

Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:18-19

"Springs Up", it certainly does! During this time of transition and adjustment, I just pray for grace. I pray that the mission won't die, that fear won't creep in, that strength will come. Will it?

Its a mad mission
Under difficult conditions
Not everybody makes it
To the loving cup
Its a mad mission
But I got the ambition
Mad, mad mission
Sign me up
–Patty Griffin