attitude readjustment

Every once in a while, I describe where I work and what we do and I observe a sudden squeamishness at the mention of Roxbury, Dorchester… and even, sometimes, Jamaica Plain. I get it. I once had the same reaction when I was younger and had absolutely no honest frame of reference to those parts of Boston about which I only heard details when some news station broadcast stories of violence and poverty. 

Five years ago (I actually just remembered it was indeed five years ago today we closed) I did a show in Roxbury at Hibernian Hall. It was still a bit insular, as theater productions often are, and oblivious to the neighborhood. But… I spent several days in Dudley Square reconfiguring my preconceived notions. I know one has nothing to do with the other, but it was around that same time that I interviewed for my current job… and within weeks I was spending my every day in JP.

This memory flashed out of haze and into a bit more clarity yesterday as I walked through Hibernian Hall again. We are looking to move our office. One option is to move out of the gentrified neighborhood and closer to the communities in which we work. 

I’m not going to be dishonest. As I walked into that building and another we looked at today, I became conscious of the color of my skin. Something that I like to think I can live each day without, because I am a cool, understanding liberal who doesn’t live her entire life in the cocoon of her ethnicity. But I recognize this as an opportunity to educate myself and not be so smug about my attitudes… because, certainly the best indicator of needing attitude adjustment is to declare oneself beyond improvement.

Maybe this quest to educate and understand is what heightens my sensitivity to discussions of race these days. It could be that I’m writing a novel where race is a major issue – if not THE issue. So I think about it lots. I find my way to articles about it. I feel my blood rise when I see things posted on the social network that pass judgment or show oblivion… and make me want to pass judgment.

But… that’s the thing. It is one of the easiest ways to throw stones. We are all guilty of prejudices and… hasty to point fingers at others who articulate them. How regularly do we look in the mirror and ask the question to ourselves?

I think that smug satisfaction of living in a liberal, educated state does make us complacent sometimes. We can’t be racist or prejudiced because we know it’s wrong. We have an integrated society. We don’t tolerate judging by skin color. But… sniveling a nose at Roxbury is okay. Because, well, you could get shot there. 

But… you can get a great bowl of soup at the Haley House. You can go listen to jazz or see a play at Hibernian Hall. You can go to the Hale School and the principal will have a class sing the school anthem. You can drive through the tree covered streets and gawk at houses older than the city. You can go check out Urban Improv and see some inspiring and inspired kids. There is so much to see and learn and embrace.

They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression. But sometimes, I think, first impressions need some serious readjustment. As do we all.