The month of November is National Blog Posting Month. This is my 5th year participating. This year, for thirty days, I'll be telling stories from some point in my life. Enjoy!
Most of the day today was spent in the yellow room in my mom's basement. I showed up to paint and ended up volunteering to organize and clean up the yellow room, aka haley's old room, aka the office, aka molly's room if she ever wants to move in.
My mom, bless her heart, collects paper. She doesn't seem to throw it away under any circumstances. I enjoy throwing paper away - especially other people's paper when they aren't watching me. I threw away some stuff today from 1996. That was the year I graduated from high school.
As part of my clean up efforts (It's all in the spirit of Thanksgiving. My mom is hosting. I'm so excited!) I was sent to fetch lunch for everyone. My brother and I loaded in the car and headed to Chick-fil-a. Leaving the drive thru there was a man standing on the corner in the blustery wind. He had on a baseball hat and a decent coat and was holding a sign that read, "homeless. hungry. God bless."
It made me mad. It always makes me mad. I don't understand homeless-ness. I don't understand how in a country like this, a person cannot find a job and a meal and a place to stay. It made me more mad than usual because last night I watched a documentary called, "God grew tired of us".
The documentary blew my mind. It made me cry. The film won several honors in 2007 at national and world wide film festivals. It follows several "Lost Boys" of Sudan from a refugee camp in Ethiopia to the United States. They were selected to relocate after 10 plus years living in camps to Pittsburg, PA, and Syracuse, NY. These boys, turned men, were amazing. The documentary followed them for three years.
In three years time all the boys earned their high school equivalency, associate degrees and were enrolled in college to earn their bachelors degrees. All of them were working two or three jobs, saving every penny to send back to the refugee camps or to their surviving family whom they found with help from the Red Cross. They joined the Job Corps to pay for school. They learned how to flush toilets and sleep on beds and put food in a refrigerator and turn a light switch - all things they'd never seen. They learned to drive and bought cars - had cell phones, and maintained their cultural identity. One boy, John, found his family in Uganda and paid for all the paperwork and travel for his mother and sister to come to the US - he hadn't seen them in 17 years. He became an ambassador for Lost Boys and other African immigrants to the US and was working towards getting legislation heard in Congress to provide help for African refugees.
Another boy, Panther, sent money back to the camp in Ethiopia and saved enough to travel back himself to find and marry his girlfriend and bring her back to America. He was studying Economics at Pitt.
I was truly amazed by these men. They were so proud and so thankful. They praised God for the opportunity to get out of the camp and make something of themselves to honor their family, their country and culture, and to prove that it was worth the investment to get them out.
Not only was I inspired, but amazed. These refugees fought for their lives to even get a chance. And when given the opportunity, dove in head first thirsty for success. And today I see a guy who is standing on a corner with a sign, begging for small change. My brother said he stands there every single day. I wonder how much money he makes. I wonder where he goes at night. I wonder if he is really homeless and hungry.
If the Lost Boys of Sudan can come to America with nothing more than a United Nations refugee camp rudimentary education and some basic English and thrive, then why can't homeless harry on the street corner do the same?
I want to help people. I want to be good and kind. I donate money to my church. I've given money to the red cross, heifer international and other such aide organizations. I want to see people be successful in life.
What is it about American culture that makes it acceptable to beg and not work? To ride on other peoples coat tails and not be self-sufficient.
Please watch this documentary if you get the chance. Add it to your Netflix que. You'll be inspired too.
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