Awareness For the Sake of Our Neighbors

This morning, my wife asked me to run documentation for proof of residency into our son’s school. With our move across the country and not being settled into our new home yet, the school was wanting proof that we were going to actually live where we said we were. As a middle-class white family in America providing this information never even phased me. It was a simple formality and the typical “red tape” that school districts require.

So on this beautiful morning, as the sun was rising in the east and the moon was full and a pale shade of orange in the western darkness, I stopped at the school and proceeded in through the front doors. As always I was greeted by three helpful ladies in the office and took a seat to wait for the guidance counselor to see me. She arrived seemingly out of thin air with a cheerful demeanor and big smile. She quickly perused my paperwork, thanked me, and as quickly as she arrived disappeared again. Feeling accomplished, I grabbed my phone to check my messages and proceeded out through the front doors of the school.  

As I made my way to my car, I was stopped by the crossing guard for a moment. It was then that I looked up from my phone to see a mother and child walking toward me. They looked to be of Hispanic or Latino descent. I began to smile and prepared to say some pleasantry like “good morning” or “what a beautiful day?” only to notice the mother and child were looking rather upset. It seemed the mother was trying to comfort her son. I assumed he was not feeling well, in trouble for something he had done to a brother or sister at home, or he was wrestling with some jr. high anxiety, all common causes in my own home.

But in the brief moment that we passed, I never made eye contact or even was able to share any pleasantries. The mother and son quickly stopped talking as they approached me, put their heads down, and walked by. The last words I could make out were the boy saying “I am scared.” The mother’s face was sullen, looked as though she had been weeping, while the boy had a reluctant posture.  

Making it back to my car, I turned the key, and the radio came on. The news program was talking about the decision by our government to end DACA (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals) and the fear that many in our country were experiencing.  

Honestly, I do not know if that is what this mother and son were struggling with, but I paused to wonder in that moment. Sitting in my car, I thought about the ease at which I was able to verify my residency with no question and smiles all around. Would it have been the same for someone of color or different nationality? Might that mother and son have been doing the same thing, yet scared that the administration would question them, or report them, or even ultimately get them deported?  Or was the news of the end of DACA affecting a family member?  

The reality is that young boy had all the right to be scared for so many reasons.  

The question that faces me today, is not what was the specific issue with this mother and son, but rather, how aware am I of the feelings and fears of others during this difficult time in our country. I must admit that I don’t have the worries that many other people carry, and sadly too often that makes me unaware. Some experiences in our lives should make us more sensitive to what our neighbors (those we know and those we don’t know) may be going through. In turn we desperately need to find ways to stand with and for our neighbors to lessen their fear and give them peace and hope.  

 

Let us become more aware for the sake of our neighbors.