A Fresh Coat

I spent most of the day on Wednesday painting at Selma High. We've been having crews of people coming in and out all week to try to get 48 classrooms painted with the Saint's blue and gold. Around 10:00 am, a group of Selma High band members came in, ready to put paint on the walls of the classrooms they'd be sitting in come August. There was a pair of boys who looked a little too young to be walking those halls anytime soon, and I found out that they were tagging along with their cousin for the day. I paired up with one, a ten year old with the sweetest smile. As I taught him how to use a paint brush and watch his drips, he told me about the flat tire on his bike, and how he loves math because he's good at it.

At noon, the band kids headed out, and my buddy for the morning followed suit. Before he left he said, "I'm coming back all week!" I told him we'd be there waiting on him.

An hour later I left for a soda run, and as I was leaving the parking lot, I saw him across the street. I waved and he yelled, "Y'all still there? Can I come back?" He sure did come back and stayed the rest of the afternoon. I made up tasks for him to do just so he could stay around. He was a great helper and it was really special to me not only to have him be a part of everything, but to see how much he loved being there.

I was on the first shift this morning, and sure enough, when I got to the school, he came running down the hall to let me in the door, ready to paint!

It's the Little Things

"Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and see they
were the big things." Antonio Smith

We met Miss Debra through the radio show we began as an effort to bring
positive energy to Selma's residents through the airwaves. She listened
faithfully because she loved the energy and life the show carried to her.
She quickly became one of our biggest fans and we became one of hers. She
was always quick to call with an encouraging word or just to say she loved
us and was praying for us.

After a life of very actively doing and working hard serving others, a
tragic illness bound Miss Debra to a wheelchair. She found herself just
pushing through her personal pain on many days and looking for ways to be
her same energetic self, even though confined to the chair.

She credited the members and activities of the Freedom Foundation for adding
a spark to her life and has become an active part of the volunteer group and
a bright spot to the community events and activities.

I could list a hundred examples of times she brightened one of the days
we've had here with a thoughtful word or gift. But the greatest moment we've
had with Miss Debra yet came a little while back on the Alabama River.

A friend invited a group of us to spend a day at his river cabin to eat,
swim, hang out and cruise around the river in his speed boat. Miss Debra
accepted the invititation extended to the group before any of us could think
of a way to not invite her, fearing it would be too hard for her to get
around the unstable hilly ground that surrounded the cabin. She was more
excited to go than any of us and it was all over her face. We quickly became
more excited for her to come, regardless of what we had to do to help her
get around once we got to the river.

It was a beautiful day....the water was high, the air was warm and the sun
shining through the most majestic clouds.  Joyful sounds filled the air as
people talked and laughed and  kids and dogs were ran around everywhere. The
owner of the house was always focused on everyone having a great time. He
offered to take a couple of small groups out on the boat and Miss Debra was
the first volunteer. 

Instead of a single question being raised as to how this would occur,
different people immediately began getting Miss Debra out from her chair and
into the boat. She sat there on that boat as if she owned it. Her smile
beamed up the hill to the cabin where you could hear her contagious laugh
and FEEL her joy. She stayed on that boat the entire day and no one could
have been happier than me to see her just as light and free as she could be.
There was nothing binding her....nothing to remind her that she couldn't do
something that she was dying on the inside to do. No pain, no wheelchair, no
one pushing her around. She was the same Debra that grew up running and
playing and being the first one to try something new...only she was able to
enjoy it even more.

The boat ride ended and the clouds closed in to bring a beautiful and
powerful rainstorm to close the most perfect day....but Miss Debra's smile
was unchanging.  We all gathered around her under the stairs that led up to
the river cabin and listened to her tell all about her adventure. She
laughed and squealed like a child as she recounted the feelings and sights
and proclaimed, "nothing could have made this day better....it is worth
it!!"

Miss Debra has been learning every day how to be free in her mind and heart
of the pain and limitations her illness brings. But on this particular day,
she was free from it all....she said so simply and with such personal
gratitude, "this day happened because you came."

Nothing could have assured me more!!  I will never forget that day and I
know many, including our beloved Miss Debra, would say the same. It was a
small thing. And it was SO big....

Smashing a CD – Changing an Outlook

Although this past year living in Selma has left its mark with many poignant memories, there is one that touched me so deeply that it continually reminds me why I'm here. First a little background: I'm a teacher at a small high school in the country, a school with a 100% black student population and only one other white teacher. These kids didn't know what to do with all my quirkiness at first, but they never judged me because of the color of my skin; instead, they showed a lot of interest in my background, my culture.

This came full circle one December afternoon. I was talking with a student I'll call Sam. Sam is an aspiring rapper and he had often shared his creations with me. This particular afternoon, however, brought an unexpected comment. With a serious look on his face, Sam explained that the day before he'd been listening to one of his favorite CDs. All of a sudden it hit him that the lyrics he'd been quoting for so long were derogatory toward white women. In his words, "When I realized, hey, that's Ms. G they're talking about, I took the CD out and smashed it." He went on to explain that he'd never really known anyone white, but when he met me he started to realize that he'd been making a lot of judgments about a whole group of people. Sam’s life has drastically changed – in more ways than one.

But the deepest change I feel personally is in me. I have grown to love the kids as if we truly were family. The Freedom Foundation is about finding hope. And in bringing hope, I have also greatly received.

Giving What I Received

When I was in high school, I had a volleyball coach who saw I had a lot of potential, and who took the time after practice to run extra drills with me and push me to become the player he knew I could be. He chose me as a sophomore for the varsity team – not because I was as good as the seniors, but because he saw talent that he knew he could develop. He told me one day that when he recruited players, he didn't look at the 18-year olds who were heading into college, but at the 12 and 13 year olds - the ones with big feet, who he knew would grow tall, and the ones with raw athletic talent who could be turned into volleyball players. Some girls could be shanking volleyballs left and right into the stands, or serving it straight under the net, but he wasn't concerned about where they were at – he looked at where they were going.

It meant a lot to me, especially at a young age, to have someone take the time to invest in me. That experience stuck with me through the years since high school, and it wrote a lesson on my heart that I needed - that I could be somebody worth investing in. So partway through college, when things in my life weren't going the way I had hoped they would go, it meant something to me once again, to run across someone who found greater potential in me, and could help me develop it.


It's that love and dedication that we’ve received from people who've invested in us that has made us want to give that help back to others. A little love and understanding can go a long way, and it is now our commitment to pass along the same help onto others – simply because we're grateful that somebody else did that for us.

Footloose - Opening Night

One of my most memorable experiences in Selma so far was the opening night of “Footloose: the Musical.” Most of the students in the show had never been in a play, and all the hours of rehearsal, painting, construction, and team building lead up to this night. With a rough dress rehearsal and some major technical difficulties the day of the show, none of us really knew what the outcome would be. The directors were simply praying that everyone would remember their lines and that the set wouldnt fall on anyone, but what happened that night was truly a miracle.

I was waiting to open the curtain when the house manager called places. All the kids rushed onstage hugging, high fiving and wishing each other a good show. I saw the energy and excitement in their eyes - a beautiful blend of fun and terror like the one you see on a childs face as he jumps off the diving board for the first time.

The audience cheered and clapped as the band struck up the rockin musical intro. The light show began and the curtain rose to reveal students from different schools giving their best to the community. The whole night was electrifying as the students performed their hearts out for a diverse and enthusiastic crowd. When the cast sang the final phrase of the show “Everybody cut footloose, yeah!” the crowd jumped to their feet and clapped and cheered for ten minutes.

The lobby was full of hugs, photographs, flowers, and laughter. No one wanted to go home. Now, months later, when someone mentions “Footloose” in Selma people remember that night. A night when people came together, students gave their best, and love showed up in a very special way.

Piano Gathering

A few notes drift from the piano. It’s a recognizable tune, a love song by KC and JoJo. The usual key master isn’t at the piano but rather an unlikely character plays with heart and soul unusual for the countenance he normally displays.

He’s tough and cool and always connecting with someone on his cell. Today a group of kids are lounging around the piano; his backup singers are a mixed bag from elementary school through college. They are white and black, rich and poor. Until this theatre production of Footloose, many of them had never spoken to a kid of a different race before. They were awkward in the beginning and are now producing a harmonious blend of music; it’s the type of music that cannot be created by trained talented voices.

The music heard today came from voices that had found a common ground to connect on. Walls and judgment that had once been in their hearts and minds have now all but faded and this is the place where they are singing from. It is a place of freedom where they can be themselves. This is a good place to sing from. This is a good place to be.

What Can I Give?

Rather than asking "What can I gain?" I've chosen to ask "What can I give?"

Until July 2007, I was a salesperson and had won a national award in a large corporation. I was gaining favor with company leadership and had bought my first home in a beautiful Colorado suburb at age 22.

But one weekend in February 2007, when I volunteered for a youth talent show in Selma, Alabama, changed the course of my life.

Driving home from the airport, I saw all the conveniences of a modern suburb. In my rearview mirror, I saw the beautiful mountain range and a lush golf course in the rolling hills. I stopped a moment and thought of the struggling kids in Selma. I knew that many would never have the money to spend on a day of golf and would never see the mountains. If they weren't given another option, they would continue the destructive cycles: they'd continue using and dealing drugs, and the teen pregnancy and violence would continue too. It was time to stop asking what I could gain and start asking what I could give.

With a Bachelor's Degree in English and no experience, I pursued becoming a teacher. I put my beautiful house on the market. I quit my job to try to make a difference. This low-income school was in desperate need of teachers and hired me unequipped, nervous, and full of hope.

I found out what I love: I love people. I love making a difference. I love hope.