Same Kind of Different

This is one of those adventures that began as an idea thrown about in jest. On Monday I went over to the neighborhood of Pico-Union to meet with a friend. This friend is in the neighborhood as a missionary and has a great ministry to the teens who live in that barrio. So on Monday night I was invited to their dinner (slash) devotional (slash) hangout night. As an outsider to the community it was hard for me to really participate so much as I was able to just observe and to meet a few of the guys there. As I sat I reflected a lot on my own high school experience and the apparent disparity of the two. I did not grow up in the inner city where gang violence is common and where I had to worry about walking home at night because of who I might encounter. Also never have I seen friends who were so cutting at one another; everything was about one upping your friend, or putting him down, or blatantly telling him f*** you. So needless to say as the only other white guy with all the hispanic teens I felt a little out of place. One thing that one of the teens brought up was that they were going to Big Bear for the coming weekend. After they had all left Jeff filled me in on all the details and then jokingly told me that I should come. My response was, "Ha, how serious are you?" He responded by saying that well if you are available we could probably use you. I told him I was not busy this coming weekend and that he said that if there was a spot available in the car they could use me. Fortunately a seat was available for me.

On Friday evening I met up with the crew and we left for Big Bear. I didn't really understand what my role was to be given that I didn't really know what the agenda for the trip was, I didn't know what Jeff wanted to teach, I wasn't a driver, I didn't really know the teens...so what was my role again? My knowledge of Spanish doesn't do me a lot of good with this demographic. Although they would frequently seamlessly flow from English to Spanish and back again it wasn't any of the Spanish that I had learned in school that they were tossing around. The slang terms, quick speech and constant use of profanities in both languages made it hard to follow what they were saying in Spanish. Although the teens are proficient in both English and Spanish I was running by comical scenarios in my mind of how the kids from the concrete jungle, some who have never seen snow, would react to the new context. While we were on our hike up to Castle Rock some of the teens spotted the three-lettered inscription that is characteristic of gang tagging. They asked if there were gangs in Big Bear also. I would not have thought twice about what the significance of the spray paint on the rock meant had it not been for the teens. What a clash of worlds it was for them. The experience of the barrio connected to the forest. As I reflected more on the apparent differences between the worlds I became more convinced that they share more than they differ. On that note Arnold Berleant writes:

One can find a parallel between the momentary respite from immersion in the density of a city or wilderness either by the panoramic view from the observation deck of a skyscraper or a broad boulevard, or by the sweeping panorama one might obtain from a mountaintop, bluff, or tall tree. The aroma emanating from a bakery or restaurant might remind one of the odors of different vegetation or ground surfaces, such as pine needles or wet soil. The odor of decaying leaves or the effluvium of a marsh or swamp in the hot sun may resemble the smell of garbage containers on the sidewalk awaiting pickup or the exhaust of motor vehicles. Moving among buildings and along streets has some of the perceptual quality of moving among strands of trees and through openings in the vegetation. The background hum of traffic is reminiscent of the wind rushing through the trees when a front was coming through. Pushing one's way through a crowd resembles the experience of pressing through dense growth. Constant concern over making a misstep influences our passage through both city and wilderness, while the background apprehension of danger from motor vehicles and muggers parallels the constant threat, real or imagined, from the deadly creatures thought to inhabit the wilderness.

This is something that really struck me about the teens in general. My first impression of them is that they were tough as nails. I thought I would never get to see them become vulnerable always keeping an outsider like me at arms length. But what I found is that at their core, they are like any other teenager. When this became clear to me was when we went out on our hike to Castle Rock. 

Misadventure took its toll on the group early on the hike. We had hardly been hiking for five minutes and the group was all scattered like the dispersion, ice chunks were already being passed off as "snowballs" and one of the teens, David (not his real name) came cursing to the leaders complaining of a splinter ironically on his middle finger. David and Jeff (the leader of the crew) alike were determined to remove the parasitical plank of wood from the overused finger. Initially we tried to get at the splinter using only our hands. When we realized that the depth of the splinter was beyond our blunt fingers' capabilities we brought out the heavy artillery. Pocket knives and multi tools got volunteered from every leader you would have thought it was a magic show and everyone wanted to offer up their quarters for the trick. David was still loudly cursing like he was Aaron Rolston freeing his arm from its tragic position between a rock and a hard place. Persistent to not give up he would not let the leader stop. Eventually his cursing waned and his courage gained. After more minutes of tedious digging in his finger the elusive splinter finally was freed and somehow my mind saw the misfortune as an opportunity. I asked him, 

"David, do you think that you trust Jeff more now?" 

"Yeah, I do."

"Yeah you probably would have been pretty hesitant before this all happened to let Jeff fish around in your finger with a knife. I think that is like how God sometimes allows us to go through painful situations so that we can trust him more. We wouldn't arrive at the same level of trust in Him if we never went through painful experiences. So Danny, I want you to remember that when God feels distant in a situation."

"For sure, thanks." 

"Awesome let's press on."

And press on we did...slowly. Not without a few more near injuries however. When we finally reached the top of Castle Rock the view was magnificent. We ate lunch up on top of the rocks with the brisk wind bringing our picnic to a premature end. The teens had found a patch of snow that was in direct sunlight so that it was the perfect slushy consistency for making solid packed snowballs. Thus began a lengthy snowball fight. The feeling for me was ecstatic and I can only imagine that the teens in their rookie snow playing state were having a good time. I got somewhat bloodthirsty and could almost see a visible point system on the opponents’ bodies: 1 point for a leg shot, 5 for the chest, 10 for the face, and 500 bonus for hitting them so hard that there was a yard sale of gloves, hats and scarves. The fight lasted until everyone had frozen fingers and I called out a free-for-all-five-minutes. The descent down the mountain was met with more slipping, falling, and cursing. Nevertheless, spirits were high from the joy that boys can only get from hurting one another in a friendly fight.

Upon arriving back at the cabin my desire for being on the trails had not been quenched so I went out to find more of them on a run. I found them, and as I was coming back I was looking forward to a nice, hot shower. Upon arrival as the boys were heading down to the park to play a game of soccer. I was already warmed up and worn out but still played with them. Just about then the grey clouds rolled in making it colder still.  As we were playing Jeff called out I think it is snowing. At first I could see no sign of the “snow” but then eventually I caught a glimpse of the near microscopic flakes. The negligible trickle eventually broke the celestial dam and there were then giant flakes falling sideways so that one team was nearly blind from catching the snow in their eyes. The amazing thing about this was that there was no snow in the forecast. This anomaly was such an unexpected blessing for the teens, some of whom had never seen snowfall before. But even for me who grew up building snow forts, I had the same wonder about the intricate flakes of snow that landed on my shirt and slowly melted. They were all really different, but falling from the same cloud they were all essentially the same. Whatever our circumstances we are all that same kind of different.