I love going to school in a city. I enjoy running down Wisconsin Avenue to the calm waters of Lake Michigan, passing by the colorful restaurants of Brady Street, and meandering down to the Third Ward to enjoy a brunch or window shop.
On Thursdays, I volunteer at MacCanon Brown Shelter, a large warehouse at 2461 W Center St., in a neighborhood with the highest poverty rate in the city — far from the white wings of the Milwaukee Art Museum or the laughter of Bradford Beach on Labor Day.
At MacCanon,there is not 10,000 meal swipe plan or a warm dorm to call home after a long night of studying at Raynor.
Yet, this neighborhood is blocks away from our university – one that has a D1 basketball team, state of the art facilities, and a sprawling urban campus that is just beginning to see hints of fall.
But, every Thursday as I stack clothes and pass out sandwiches to these men and women, they greet me with a smile. They make conversation and remain positive although they may be struggling.
After our first day onsite, our team director asked us if we felt uncomfortable when we were volunteering. My fellow classmates nodded in agreement as we acknowledged that we had not known what to expect, and it took time to get used to conversing with strangers and seeing life from such a different perspective.
Yet, sometimes it is important to feel uncomfortable, to dig a little deeper and realize new experiences and situations can broaden our individual world.
After the mass shooting in Las Vegas on October 2nd, I had that uncomfortable feeling again. The scenes on the TV screen in my dorm room made me want to shield my eyes, and the headlines naming victims who were someone’s family, friends, and coworkers made me question the world we live in.
The hardest thing can sometimes be the most important. It is vital to look closer at the problems in society that can be bettered with becoming educated, and important to realize the cycle of death and destitution is a convoluted issue. But it is one that can be fixed.
It all starts with conversation. The conversations should center around finding your own voice and focusing on similarities with others, not differences. Whether these conversations be about the gun control laws, sexual assault policies, or undocumented immigrants, these conversations are vital for personal growth.
Sometimes it is easy to focus upon the surface parts of life – the student section at an intense basketball game, the Rave’s frantic atmosphere before the music starts, or the Milwaukee lakefront in mid-September. It often seems easier to click off the television coverage of Las Vegas, and to sweep the issue under the rug.
As I was leaving MacCanon last Thursday, I gave a man a sandwich. He thanked me , and then said, “Your name is Sarah right?” Surprised, I smiled – appreciative of the fact this man had taken the time to remember my name from a week earlier.
People like this man make me hopeful. Even in a world full of shooting rampages and poverty, there are people like this man, who may be worrying about where his next meal is coming from, but he still manages to remember something as simple as a name.
“Be the difference.” I’ve seen it plastered on brochures and repeated by faculty and administrators since my first tour of Marquette during my junior year of high school. We can take comfort in the fact that the Marquette community does not end after Mashuda or Straz or anywhere in between. I think it may extend all the way to Las Vegas.