The Other Side of the Table

“Cheese and crackers, please” the man said to me. I put the cheese and crackers in a paper bag and gave it to him saying, “Here ya go!” The man walked away, socializing, merging into other food lines, and going about his day.

I was there at “Food for Thought” (the Toledo food line) with ten other college students who had woken up at 9am on their Saturday mornings to be there through the organization “Community Interaction Live Aware.” Our role that morning was to hand out the food we had to the people in the food line as they came up to us. We had bananas, clementines, apples, and cheese and crackers.

From the moment we got there we were swamped with people—people wanting apples, cheese and crackers, bananas, apples, cheese and crackers, bananas. Food was getting tossed into bags and we were working efficiently together as a team, us BGSU Falcons. It was incredibly overwhelming for myself to process all at once—this was the first “food line” I had been to. As one who is always analyzing social situations and how groups interact with one another, my senses were on overdrive during the entirety of our time there.

There was only a table between me and those there to receive the food, but it felt like we were worlds apart. I didn’t like this; I didn’t like this "us" and "them" feel at all.

Once the line had slowed down and everyone was socializing, I took that as my cue to step from behind the table and melt into the crowd. I took one lap around the parking lot where “Food for Thought” was located—there were bagels from Panera Bread on one table, a church group serving hot meals at a long assembly line of other tables, and others. People were milling around, some sitting on the wooden benches in the middle of the parking lot, some shaking hands and embracing friends, some laughing loudly and talking about the recent news in sports. It was a beautiful atmosphere to exist in; I put my hands in the pockets of my red windbreaker and scuffled across the asphalt, listening and observing all that was around me.

I was nearing our table when I stopped at a neighboring table. There were clothes being given away—beautiful garments. “Wow…these are beautiful!” I exclaimed to one of the women behind the table. “You can take any that you would like! Would you like a bag?” I looked up at her, not comprehending what she said.

All at once, the internal dialogue began shooting through my mind. Did this woman think I’m here to receive? Did I look like I’m here to receive food and stuff? I’m just wearing a red windbreaker and one of my ridiculously long patterned skirts. Wait…oh my goodness what am I really saying here?! “Look like I’m here to receive food and stuff”—what do I even mean by that?! Would it even really matter if I were here to receive food? 

I finally was able to answer her question in the middle of all of these thoughts. “No I don’t want any clothes, thank you. I’m with BGSU and I’m helping out today; our table is right next to you.” I could tell she was thrown off by this just as I was thrown off by her statement.

I find myself questioning many aspects about this experience. I find myself questioning why my response to being mistaken as someone in the food line was so dramatic. Why was I so worked up about being misidentified? Would it have mattered if I was there to receive instead of give at “Food for Thought?”

 

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This experience at "Food for Thought" has been on my mind a lot recently as I've been thinking about how I tend to view life (and have been taught to view life) in terms of "us" and "them."

Metaphorically, for the majority of my life I have been on the “giving” side of the table. I would identify with the "givers" as "us." I have been on the side of the table that has excess, that has the ability to give and decline receiving, the side of the table that believes that you’re a “hero” or a "saint" for being involved in charity work and for "giving food to the hungry." This is the side of the table that I'm familiar with.

But what if the "tables" were turned? What if I were to step out from behind the table, and into the crowd? How would the world look differently from here? What if I intentionally lived among people whom I don't necessarily feel I have much in common with on the surface and learned that there is no "us" and "them," only "us?" What if I learned that we all have a lot more in common than we think?

Beginning in September, I will have an opportunity to be "on the other side of the table" through a program called Mission Year. For one year, I, along with five other Team Members, will be living in an underresourced neighborhood. (On the website it says that we will be placed in an “area of need”). I will live in this community in a house with my teammates, serve alongside a community partner and non-profit four days a week, cook hospitality dinners from our home, sit on our porch stoop and simply exist with the neighborhood, and most importantly, (in my mind,) we will listen.

Life on the "other side of the table" is what I desire to learn about and better understand during my year in Philadelphia through Mission Year. If you would like to contribute financially to my journey and help pay for the living expenses for the year (I need to raise $12,000), you can donate here or contact me for further information if you desire to make a cash or check donation. AND all donations are tax deductible! (Hooray!) 

Please consider supporting me in this journey if able!