LA Story

Day by day, Los Angeles presents itself with new challenges and more surprises. The following stories are some examples...

The Photographer

Last Friday, as all Fridays, I vigiled against the war with the Catholic Worker outside a cluster of federal buildings. A man came up to Margaret, Sophie and I and took our picture. Turning his digital camera away from us, the passerby sneered, "I'm going to send this picture to my son in Iraq. He's going to blow it up to a poster and they'll use it for target practice."

As the man in his clean grey suit marched away, we stood in woeful silence. I was on the verge of anxious laughter while trying to ignore the all-consuming pit in my chest. Whether the man was sincere was not the main concern. The hateful words that lingered on the street corner, the mentality behind the action, and the underlying meaning of the threat were of more concern.

That day, Sophie, Margaret and I held signs that read, "BRING THE TROOPS HOME ALIVE!" "NOT ONE MORE BODY FOR WAR," and "STOP U.S. WAR IN IRAQ." Not surprisingly, the man silently walked by Catherine and her sign noting more than 3700 dead U.S. soldiers. He said nothing to the older couple just feet away. He instead turned his focus toward the young adults and gave us a piece of his mind with a voice full of anger and words soaked in hate.

After some time had passed, Margaret broke the silence. She discussed her interpretation of the reactions of all passersby; how each reaction proves that the men and women who see our presence are affected. Those who ignore or turn their heads do so because they are confronted with the reality of our world. Those who address us with anger do so because we are displaying an opposing opinion. Those who honk, wave, and smile do so because it is how they show solidarity.

While we protest the existence of this war that continues to plague our nation, we also protest the degrading use of human life. We are not commodities that can be gambled. We are not to be used and spat back into an unsupported and invisible life. Each man and woman who is sacrificing their well being within the armed forces is deserving, as we all are, of food, shelter, and community. That man can choose to think we are against his son; but in fact, we support his humanity.


The Foreigner


After a Wednesday night liturgy held at the Catholic Worker house, the young women of the community decided to walk a friend home in East LA. The sun had already set, but we were walking in familiar territory.

As we passed through the residential area, we were stopped by a group of young boys no older than 15. They looked at us, half of the group being white, and said with a sense of worry, "Are you lost?"

All the ladies chuckled and said, "No."

"Where are you from?" they asked in complete wonder.

Sophie, being from Altadena, replied defiantly, "Around here!"

The boys just looked at the gringas and scoffed, "Yea... right." But as we walked away from the condescending teenagers, they called after us in an endearing desperation, "Hey! You girls wanna play some football?!"

I do feel like a foreigner here in East LA. It has less to do with my language, age or race than my familiarity of the area. While I might not look like I fit in, I surely don't act like I fit in. I recently learned that Pasadena is northeast of LA... it is not, in fact, closer to the beach. Or my slow and uncomfortable immersion into a constantly sunny and dry city (I sweat, I squint, I burn--I miss rain). Despite my obvious non-LA-ness, the people I have encountered have been more than happy to explain how the lightrail fees work ($250 fine without a ticket!), complain about the heat with me, or simply ask how my stay is going. It makes the transition much easier.

My new goal is to begin meeting people outside of the Catholic Worker. Everything I do and know about Los Angeles is somehow connected to the LACW. I can feel a strong need to meet new people, have a life outside of the Catholic Worker. I need to have a little bit of social independence. I'm severely ready for that independence.



Lastly: Ben Lee and Ione Skye volunteered at the Hippie Kitchen this week.