“Are you counting down the days?” Someone asked me this question after church on Sunday, after I told them I only had 3 weeks left. I replied that I only counted them to remind myself to make every one of them matter. This experience has been amazing. When I finished my interview with Broadway this past spring I remember thinking, “this sounds like it’s out of my comfort zone, but it can change my life if I let it.” The thing about change is that we think it will be dramatic and obvious, as if one day I would have an encounter so powerful I wouldn’t be able to see life the same way. However, that isn’t how it works. When I stopped to reflect I realized that I had grown a lot, it just didn’t feel that way because it has happened over time. I was walking around the neighborhood by the church on my own, and realized that I wouldn’t have felt comfortable doing that my first few weeks here, but as the kids I work with–who go around the neighborhood to get to the know the gifts and talents of their neighbors–showed me around their neighborhood I became comfortable. That is how life works, it isn’t a magical encounter, but an effort to get to know the people around you. It isn’t shutting down a conversation when it gets uncomfortable or awkward, but trying to navigate through it.

At the Boston Public Library, on my trip to learn from the Family Independence Initiative.

I have had amazing opportunities this summer. I learned from an organization called the Family Independence Initiative in Boston about how other families and support systems are their greatest resource. I’ve witnessed a lot of amazing things around the neighborhood during my time at Broadway. I’ve witnessed a father express his pride for his son. I’ve witnessed neighbors telling the kids how great they are and to keep doing what they’re doing. I’ve witnessed people sharing their goals and dreams with the kids. I’ve also witnessed kids make connections over shared interests with neighbors. That’s the thing, I’ve been doing a lot of witnessing. These great stories I’ve witnessed happened regardless of whether they’ve been shared with me, but these encounters often lead to an acknowledgement of the great things the neighbors have done, and I get an opportunity to share what I’ve heard with others. The phrase for this at Broadway is to “make the invisible visible.” My time here at Broadway has shown me how easy it is to be blind to talent, and how easy it is to be surprised. The neighbor who seems reluctant to talk shares a powerful story. The kid who usually stands in the back, steps up and introduces the group. You never know what’s invisible. People are constantly surprising each other, and I wonder why I’m continually surprised that I’m surprised.

As I reflect on my time here at Broadway, I wonder if my own neighborhood is really that different, or if I hadn’t been paying attention. So, while I may only have a few weeks left at Broadway, I’ll go back to my own neighborhood and eventually move on to new ones, and I’ll be paying attention to the people around me and the value they bring to the community.