By Steve

Minority moments

I'm 35 years old. White. Heterosexual. Married. Middle class. College educated. Normal. I don't find myself out on the extreme of anything, really. I'm not outcast or finding myself in the margins. I don't get too excited to admit it, but I'm a fairly average, middle of the pack, regular kind of guy.

It's usually people like me that have segregated, outcast and marginalized others so it was weird for me to have my "own" people turn on me. I experienced a minority moment. What it felt like to be the only "different" one in a crowd. To be looked at, looked down at. To want to cave in just to fit in.

Keeping details to a minimum...It was decided to place the winter (which means temporary) tent homeless shelter just 2 blocks from where I live. The chosen location is in the center of East Village, our rapidly redeveloping downtown neighborhood. While I agree that the chosen location is not great, the homeless tent will be far less attractive than the lynch mob mentality of the 75 people that showed up at a meeting to voice their complaints. It was a meeting full of anger. Where most struggled to even identify a homeless person as human. And while most there shared this feeling, I stood in the back very dissapointed with my neighbors with the phrase, "shame on us" running through my mind.

Could it be that I am the only one that feels differently about this (I found out later that at least one other felt similar), well I wasn't about to speak out publicly for fear of my life. What I have learned, or maybe been reminded of, is that most of us really want to help and make a difference in our world as long as it doesn't affect us. But as soon as the issue is in my backyard...
But then these fires started burning up all of San Diego, a problem in our cities backyard. A problem each of us is having to deal with (Even now as I sit in a coffee shop typing, many miles from the fire, ashes are floating across the front of my computer screen). And many are chipping in to make a difference, to help, volunteer, donate, pray. I am anything but dissapointed with my neighbors this week. Why will we help in the wake of a tragic fire, but not step in and help the homeless? Why such different attitudes from the same people? I'm sure you have opinions, so I won't share mine.

What I keep thinking about is why didn't I speak up at the meeting. Why did I wait? Although one friend said it would have been like telling an alcoholic to sober up when he is wasted (point taken), I still could have spoken. I often sense this need to express my different opinion, my prophetic voice (I will answer what this is on Wednesday) if you will.

But it can be hard. Hard to speak up. Hard to speak my mind. Hard to intentionally stick myself out there. So often we keep quiet.

I finally spoke up. I let my "prophetic voice" out. Now I wait for reaction, response, and the difference it may make (hopefully good).

It's hard to focus and think much these days beyond what is going on with our city. The fires, the evacuations, the hundreds of destroyed homes. Many people continue to ask what we might do. I trust you will do what you can, when you can. I also want to encourage you to pray, believing it will help bring an end to the destruction and comfort to the hurting.