The Kidz of East Lane Street

Today i walked a block from my house.

take a walk.
out the gate you go and never stop.
past dollar stores and wig shops.
quarter in a cup for every quaff
and watch the buildings grow
smaller as you go

Our church hangs out with kids on Saturdays at our basketball courts. i say "our" because i live here, and they belong to the community of downtown Raleigh. Maybe that's an arrogant "our," and maybe i haven't been there enough times to use such a powerful possessive. But maybe i want to grow into the responsibility.

down the tracks
beautiful McMansions on a hill
that overlook a highway
there's riverboat casinos and you still
have yet to see a soul

i played futbol with Angel, Trayshawn, Brandon, James, Jeremiah, Ben, Blair, and Lilo. Sometimes Bishop would roll through on his long skateboard, and i would get a little angry, because, hey Bishop, we're playing futbol here. It was ok though.

Lilo is about 2 feet tall but a stellar player. His older brother Angel is a serious challenge to Ronaldinho and Ronaldo. i've never seen such a small kid with such great feet. Brandon is always a surprise-- sometimes he comes over to play video games with Tyler, and he wrote a synopsis of John 2 without anyone even asking him to. Trayshawn is a great goalie.

town to town
broadcast to each house, they drop your name
but no one knows your face
billboards quoting things you'd never say
you hang your head and pray

Afterward, when most everyone had left, i stayed back because some of the little girls wanted me to pick them up on my shoulders so that they could make a basket; it was pretty high for them. i was just honored that they liked me so quickly. They'd never seen me before. They are black and i am white. We live next door to each other, but we live in worlds that don't mix much. But there we were, hanging out on our basketball court as the sun set on E. Lane st.

And i wondered, as i picked them up and watched them run races down the blacktop, what life was like at home for them. Are they here because home is horrible? What have they seen? Are they still children or have they been forced to be adults? Or am i completely wrong?

miles and miles
and the sun's goin' down
pulses glow
from their homes
you're not alone
lights come on
as you lay
your weary head
on their lawn

i wonder now, most of all, and perhaps most importantly, what or who it is that i love. Do i love my neighbor? Do i love my neighbors? Do i love the aspiring little girls and the budding futbol players and the game-crashing skateboarders? And do i love God who made them in His image? Because all the law and the prophets hang on these things.

parking lots
cracked and growing grass you see it all
from offices to farms
crosses flying high above the malls
along the walk

Yes, today was a good day.

Thanks to Ben Folds for the lovely lyrics.