This past Monday I gave up a lot of stuff I knew to move to Jackson Mississippi to give guidance to the Service Adventure unit after their leaders were in a car accident where she was killed. It’s been an eye opening week.
I have never lived in the south and South Jackson is different yet. I have never felt so white, so pale Alaskan. In this predominantly African American neighborhood I don’t make eye contact as I’m walking or running down the street. I hate that I feel uncomfortable, that I should have my house locked when I’m still in it. I don’t consider myself as racist, but it definitely makes me think twice when a group of rowdy teenagers passes by in the bed of a pick up. For once I may be glad for my non-girlish figure.
The contrast between Jackson and Anchorage is stark. Jackson is a larger city, and there are many roads clover leafing around and I miss the Glenn Hwy or Seward Hwy that were the only two ways out of Anchorage. The poverty is real, evidenced in run down houses and stores . The streets are a rollercoaster ride of potholes and dips. But I do think that my abs are getting a workout from being tense!
It’s been hard to start feeling invested in the area, especially because I don’t know how long I will be here yet. There will be a decision coming early next week about whether we will have people come and live in the house with Niklas and I to create community or if Niklas will live with a host family. Both of these options present challenges.
I also don’t have enough to do. I am a person who likes to stay busy and I have been getting sleeping so much that I am getting headaches, spending too much time taking Facebook quizzes and in general not doing much. If it is decided that I will stay then at least I will get a job. It makes it tricky because I need to be available to give Niklas a ride to work in the afternoon. Target here doesn’t have any shifts starting before 8am even for flow.
I was able to meet some people at a women’s retreat this weekend which was nice. I kept hearing: you’re so brave for doing this. Well, I’m not brave. I’m not strong. I feel like I have to be, but it’s hard work being the strong one. When do I get to break down? I miss my friends. I miss my job. I miss knowing how to get around the city. I have too much time to think. I am tired of living in limbo.
I can’t believe it hasn’t even been a week that I’ve been here. In my head I know it will all work out. But I’m tired.
*This morning I greeted several people during my run. I need to do more of this. When I reach out others are likely to do the same. It starts with me.