the little town i grew up in didn't have much diversity and so, how this little white girl from farmland, usa ended up with such a heart for inner city families from seemingly the other end of the spectrum is truly God at work
but i did i flirted with working in other much wealthier and prestigious systems but knew for my teaching career i would be happiest where i could pour myself into those children
i cried on my way home from work for the first several weeks because i could go home to a cozy apartment on the lake and these children? were stuck
they didn't ask to be born into this and yet...they were in their own way happy
i fell head over heels in love with those kids and the next group, and the next students joined my choir and gave me the utmost respect who were nightmares for every other teacher in the building they told me it was because i was different
i smiled the only time a student told me i was "racist" because the rest of the statement was "toward white people!" (at that point i reminded her that i too was white... and every other student in that multi-colored beautiful classroom burst into laughter)
i began to see Martin Luther King in a whole new light and while so much of his dream, his vision for equality and harmony have been realized
so much of it has not
so here's to today where we stop comparing other social injustices and issues to the Civil Rights movement because there is still much to do
most of my friends of every nation and color are in the same socioeconomic class as i am it just so happens that most of the circles i find myself in these days don't include the stark poverty that i immersed myself in day after day as a teacher (and let's get this clear: i taught poor white kids too. they are included in this after all, MLK's message of inclusion and equality wouldn't exclude them either. right? :-) )
and i have to be honest that while i know that i'm right where i'm supposed to be i do miss being able to invest in that community
please don't hear that the other social injustices the awful problem of homelessness that consistently tugs on my heart strings the despicable treatment of portions of our population by people bearing the name of Christ the abuse that spouses and children suffer at the hands of those who claim to love them most
please don't hear me say they don't matter because they do
but a significant part of my heart is with my former students and the families and homes they represent what a beautiful heritage and culture of overcoming may they truly overcome the stigma, the poverty, the desperation
may God raise up more people who will invest and nurture these children their parents and their grandparents and let them know that the dream is still alive
So many amazing songs to choose from... So many I'd love to share.
And usually it's a worship song that I share on Sundays, but today I bring you another Pub Favorite.
It's called The Last House on Our Street, and it's haunting. If I could give you an opportunity to actually listen to it I would...maybe I'll be able to figure out how to do that soon!
Irish music often reflects the era it is written in (it's not ALL drinking songs!) and there's often quite a bit of social awareness written into the lyrics (think U2 for example). I love that about it. This one is an example--written and sung in a rhythmic way that mimics a ball being passed back and forth, it sounds at first like a children's song...and it does seem to be written through the eyes of a child. But reading the words is heartbreaking when you realize what they're saying.
Like I said--beautifully haunting, and I hope you can get some portion of that from the lyrics below.
Blessings on your Sunday!
The last house in our street The last house in our street is the one that we are living in, Throw the ball against the wall and back to me, All the other windows have concrete curtains, Open up your eyes and tell me what you see. The flowers in our garden are made of bricks end broken glass, Throw the ball against the wall and back to me, And 'round the back we're growing an outside toilet, Open up your eyes and tell me what you see. Wee Albert Mooney was blinded by a petrol bomb, Throw the ball against the wall and back to me, The bombers said, We're sorry it must have been en accident, Open up your eyes and tell me what you see. A big rubber bullet killed little Johnny Morrissey, Throw the ball against the wall and back to me, A policeman fired it, it must have been en accident, Open up your eyes and tell me what you see. God made the world and Belfast is a part of it, Throw the ball against the wall and back to me, Sometimes I wonder if Belfast was an accident, Open up your eyes and tell me what you see. There's a wall, so there is, between us and them, there is, Throw the ball against the wall and back to me, Is there anyone can tell me that they didn't help in building it? Open up your eyes and tell me what you see. But the eyes of the world have concrete curtains, Throw the ball against the wall and back to me Would you tear down the wall, would you open up the windows, Would you open up your eyes end tell me what you see. The last house in our street is the one that we are living in, Throw the ball against the wall and back to me, All the other windows have concrete curtains, Open up your eyes end tell me what you see. Open up your eyes end tell me what you see. Open up your eyes end tell me what you see.
Ok, blog readers. It was driving me CRAZY that I couldn't find a version of this song on youtube. So I created my own. Please know--I'm not a professional (which you'll be able to tell by the mediocre chords I'm playing in accompaniment) and my voice isn't necessarily suited to this sort of song...but it HAS to be shared. So I'm sharing it. Be gentle, kind readers :0)
Oh...you won't really be able to see me in the vid. That was slightly by design. Midnight on a Sunday isn't necessarily my best look!
(by the way this is a private youtube video, so let me know if you can't see it and I'll send you a copy)
