You Should Become a Community Listener
From our Community Listener Sarah, who joined us for Big Sunday Weekend 2010 by collecting hopes at Inner-City Arts and 24th Street School in Los Angeles, California:
I parked my car in front of 24th Street School in Los Angeles. I held the paper in my hand and read it over, over, and over again. My script for the day:
*Ask them to say the following on camera:
“Hi my name is ___________.”
“On Big Sunday I did ___________.”
“An interesting thing that happened today was ___________.”
*Now, tell them a little about The Hope Chronicles.
Ask: “What is your hope?”
A child could have memorized it. I mean, “Hi, my name is_______” for Christ’s sake, but as I sat in my car, it was like trying to decipher binary code, or as if I was asked to memorize the Declaration of Independence. I only mention this now to explain what I was up against, sitting in my car–me against my brain; it is a tricky thing. I, for one, never know who will in fact win.
Luckily for everyone involved, I got out of the car and met Tanya Russell first; a mother, a volunteer, at the 24th Street School ‘Welcome’ table. I explained, awkwardly, that I wanted to interview some community leaders. Her eyes widened, she smiled like a puffy white cloud against a deep blue sky. In one moment, my introversion faded. She led me through the crowds of teachers, students, community activists, families with their little children wearing Big Sunday shirts hanging below their knees–through the nearly four acres of gardens, wheel barrows filled with mulch, weaving around rows of freshly planted veggies, and small teams working together, toiling the land. The bright LA sun watching from above.
Breathless, Tanya held out her hand, “Here is our community garden leader.” She was wearing a straw hat with a black ribbon carefully tied around its crown, dark Ray Ban style sunglasses, and a pearl necklace. She spoke quickly, joyfully, about her hopes for the garden, stopping only to welcome families as they walked by. She was just as you would want a community garden organizer to be: spirited, playfully organized, like a brightly color coded file cabinet. But when it came time to interview her on camera, she raised her voice, and laughed, “Oh No!”
Watch Sarah’s Visit to 24th Street School:
Later in the day, at Inner City Arts, I met an elderly woman who introduced me to her daughter, a 20 year volunteer. She lead me around tables with families painting, laughing, vibrant drumming music playing in the background. She spoke openly about her hopes for herself, and the city, she explained, “Inner City Arts is like an oasis in a very poor area of LA, but it does not exclude, it is open for all.” After listening for a while, I suddenly realized I hadn’t videotaped her at all, and said, “I am so sorry, can you repeat some of that for the camera?” She replied, “Oh no, I’d better not.”
Watch Sarah’s Visit to Inner-City Arts:
After I finished my day, interviewing 15 to 20 people in the two locations, I found this to be a common tension. In many ways it was the video camera, which disarmed my own inhibitions, giving access to their beautiful stories of hope. However, by its very nature, the device also shifts away the intimacy of conversations.
This is where my not so creative title comes in: “You Should Become a Community Listener.”
On that day, I learned that this one question: “What is your hope?” is a way to open a door. But I found it is the moments in between the footage, face to face, when that door leads to hallways, to kitchens and living rooms, and it is there where reticence seems to fade, and the real conversations begin; where they can also begin for you.
Tags: community listener