midro.

Saturday I woke up and walked to lunch (a collegiately late start) with Blake, who swiped me into the dining hall. There I met with a coworker and a migrant 8th-grade Haitian named Midro.

Midro's family moved to the states two years ago. His mother lost jobs for being inadequate in the American English language. They moved from Florida to Pennsylvania where she was eventually able to acquire work. Midro and I walked around the student Union asking people to be background actors in a short film I would help shoot, re-enacting his first day of school in the states. In the film we are still editing, Midro cannot speak English, yet his peers and teachers stare at him and persist in asking questions. The short video will be submitted to a contest where Midro could win a laptop or scholarship or something of the sort.

That night I got online and discovered that Suzan had been successful in installing Skype. We were able to video-chat for free, though I could not see her. I gave her a tour of Bittner and she got to meet some of my friends. When she saw the length of the Bittner 2nd-floor hallway, she said, "Oh my God!"

Today I visited the Bethesda Women's Shelter with some other Messiah students. They house about a dozen recovering female addicts. For the first few hours, they instructed us to be free in the kitchen and make a dessert, since they already ate dinner. For awhile we kind of kept to ourselves and they kept to themselves as well. We were going to leave early, but on our way out, we found an opportunity to sit down with the ladies of the home and talk to them. They asked us about our education and future aspirations. We also got to hear their stories and future goals. They all seem to have gone back to school to get education, not just employment, through Bethesda Mission. Some were young, some were old. Some had kids and some were employees who called themselves "evangelists." My favorite part was how the young girl who would turn 2 in the spring would grow up with a dozen moms who supported each other. So whenever I think of my future commune, I can be reminded of Roxy, who had not one family, but many, under the same roof as her as she would grow into womanhood. The old adage: "It takes a whole village to raise a child."