airports are my life today

My flight to Detroit via Washington D.C. was canceled, ironically because of bad weather in my southern transfer. Now I’m in La Guardia waiting for a flight to Charlotte, NC, fairly exhausted from a couple nights of inadequate sleep, late-night adventures and city life.

I left QEJ on Friday. Reina and Jay and Michelle made a big deal about my last day, which was nice of them, considering that QEJ gets a lot of interns and I was only with them for three weeks. I stayed up till two the night before baking brownies and cookies in Chloe’s kitchen, which proved difficult because of the lack of grocery ingredients available at midnight in NYC, namely cocoa powder. Desperate at 12:30 a.m. and at my fifth store, which was closing, I grabbed a microwaveable snack-sized brownie tray and decided that was the closest cocoa substitute I’d find. Thankfully, if you add eggs, flour, sugar, chocolate chips and butter to most anything, it becomes delicious.

The workday wasn’t productive at all – due to late night cooking, I got in around 11:00 a.m., chatted with staffers and made casual revisions to the report. Around noon the cute intern came in, and that was more distracting, and then Reina and I went to get coffee.

At 1:00 some others joined us and we had a meeting for the shelter safety campaign. The campaign targets two shelters and focuses on documenting and diminishing the rampant violence the city claims is non-existent. We laid out charts against a wall, and read from them to update each other on the various steps along the way. In the hallway, lined up, I looked at each person there and found myself in awe. I feel so lucky to know them all, the volunteers and staffers who have devoted themselves to this often-ignored effort, and how despite the often-depressing subject matter, are hilarious together and hopeful about our impact as individuals.

After that, we headed over to the CUNY graduate center to attend the research release presentation of a group called the Young Women’s Empowerment Project from Chicago. Their work has a lot overlap with QEJ’s, because they focus on documenting the resistance and resilience of women in the sex trade to institutional and individual oppression. One of my favorite points they made (because of its truth, not because I like it) is that violence against women in the sex trade is often viewed as individual oppression, when in fact it is individual oppression enhanced and encouraged by institutional oppression. Example: a man beats a woman in the sex trade. That’s individual oppression, if you ignore the fact that the man has probably been conditioned to value that woman less because of her gender and economic position. But then the police she is afraid to report the crime to, and the hospitals that refuse to treat her without insurance, perpetuate that oppression. These things don’t shock me as much as they used to shock me. The pattern is easily recognizable. What confuses me now is how I was able to live in complete ignorance of these situations, and of larger-scale oppression, for so long. After the presentation, Michelle and Reina took us all out to dinner and asked me what I’d gotten from my time with them. It was the easiest question ever to answer. In these three weeks, I’ve learned about different worlds and remembered that every person has a story worth telling and worth paying attention to. I’ve grown up a lot, and because that phrase is vague and possibly irrelevant, I’ll explain that “growing up” in this case is a feeling, and awareness about my surroundings and responsibilities, and a confidence, that I didn’t have before. And from these three weeks I’ve shaped the rest of my life’s work. I might not necessarily be in a community organizing office in NYC, although that’s a possibility. But I will be doing my individual part to end oppression, wherever I am.

When we stepped out of the restaurant, it was freezing out. We said goodbye, and Michelle said she would email me the report in the next couple of days to edit. They walked back to QEJ, and I walked in the opposite way to the subway station, always portable, with pajamas in the second pocket of my backpack.

Two friends, one of whom goes to NYU and the other who goes to Oberlin, were waiting at Union Square. The three of us have notoriously good adventures. It was Abby’s first night in the city and my last. We toasted over Cuban food, went to a friend’s party and ended the night at the same falafel shop on St. Marks that Chloe had taken me to on our first day. It was the perfect way to end my incredible stay, and writing about it makes me less grumpy to be in an airport indefinitely.

Finally, to anyone reading from QEJ, one of my host houses, or from my family, thank you. An education is one of the most valuable things anyone can ask for, and you’ve given me that. I wish you all love and the best of luck.