Shalom of Oakland

There have been some intriguing articles in the Oakland Tribune and SF Chronicle recently regarding Deep East Oakland.  This article asks where the public outrage is for the innocent 16 year old who was shot while being dropped off at his house by some friends.  They got caught up in a sideshow and shots were fired into their vehicle.  The comments on these kinds of articles are fascinating.  Who do we blame?  The shooter seems to be an obvious target, but there's always the Deep East in general to blame, the family, the police, the sideshow, poverty, school system, etc.  In any case, this article  does make me question why I wasn't outraged and stunned when I read the original story on the shooting.  Do you just get numb to it when it is the reality around you?  Are there ways to cope while staying passionate about peace and safety for our young people?

For some time I've been contemplating writing a post about the horrific events that took place just a few feet from our new facility on MacArthur Boulevard.  If you are reading this I am sure you have heard or read about what happened.  If for some reason you have not, just click over to the Oakland Tribune website and look at the special section under the heading "Tragedy in Oakland."  I could give a summary but I've grown weary from thinking about the details.  Many others have given their point of view and dissected the culture of East Oakland, focusing on the difficulties and failures. 
What does strike me is that the vast majority of the people I've met around 74th and MacArthur are quite friendly to me, welcoming me to the street.  I've laughed with people, been teased for missing a spot while painting, shared our plans for the Shalom Community Center, and received nothing but positive and encouraging remarks.  If you were to read many of the articles about this neighborhood (and especially the comments sections underneath) you would be convinced that to walk on these streets would quickly bring a wave of racial tension, robbery, drug abuse and violence.  Instead, I've found that people are simply doing what they do, walking to the grocery store, pushing babies and toddlers in strollers, working at barber shops and convenience stores, smoking cigarettes and enjoying the sunshine.  Obviously, there are problems lurking around many corners, some obvious and some more subtle, but there is also hope.  There is also an openness to conversation, smiles, help, prayer, friendship and cooperation.  Perhaps if we would simply engage the people we talk about and debate about the stories would be told differently.  Perhaps there is hope in the midst of pain.  Perhaps there is potential for relationship beyond boundaries of race and class.  Perhaps resurrection can still happen and is still happening.