{"id":1139,"date":"2016-08-03T16:10:15","date_gmt":"2016-08-03T23:10:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/?p=1139"},"modified":"2016-08-03T16:10:15","modified_gmt":"2016-08-03T23:10:15","slug":"reaching-out-by-aeron-hansen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/?p=1139","title":{"rendered":"REACHING OUT by Aeron Hansen"},"content":{"rendered":"

After my last blog, The Black Snow Queen, appeared, my daughter, Aeron Hansen, wrote\u00a0 this beautiful essay. I want to share it with my readers:
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

Is every trip to the market the same? Sometimes it can feel like you’re just going through<\/p>\n

the motions, since it’s a regular task, but each visit offers a slightly different experience,<\/p>\n

and often times, a touch of humanity from someone who warms your heart, makes you<\/p>\n

feel alive, connected and excited about shopping for produce. Each time I go to Top<\/p>\n

Banana, a simple produce stand by my home, Dan, the produce guy, will say, \u201cHi Aeron,<\/p>\n

how\u2019s it going?\u201d He will ask me if I want a sample of something juicy and ripe that’s<\/p>\n

recently came in. The last time I was there, I sampled an unknown melon that looked like<\/p>\n

a honeydew had made a melon baby with a cantaloupe.\u00a0 Dan, who resembles a hobbit,<\/p>\n

with his stocky stature, untamed curls, scruffy face and chubby cheeks, shoots me a<\/p>\n

warm grin every time I see him. I always leave that place with a warm heart and a<\/p>\n

bit of produce: a fun fact.<\/p>\n

Today, about one week after the shootings of two black men in Louisiana and Minnesota<\/p>\n

and the five white policemen in Dallas, I set off for a 4-mile run, to the place where my<\/p>\n

soon to be husband and I run most of the time \u2013 my daughter\u2019s middle-school track and<\/p>\n

field. I set out to clear my mind of the internal chatter \u2013 I\u2019m worried about my daughter\u2019s<\/p>\n

trip to cater an event with strangers tomorrow, what if something horrible happens to her?<\/p>\n

I should have done a background check, oh I’m sure they are kind people, but people do<\/p>\n

messed up things, look at the recent events in our country and in countries targeted by<\/p>\n

Isis. Will it ever end? We are also in the midst of the most twisted presidential election.<\/p>\n

It’s hard to comprehend Trump becoming our next president. He will make things worse<\/p>\n

by creating more fear and dividing people. There is too much negative press and my cell<\/p>\n

phone is giving me brain damage.<\/p>\n

Steadily, at about a 9.5 minute mile pace, I run the track while getting passed in spurts by<\/p>\n

a strong, athletic African American man with bulging biceps and calves.\u00a0 We work the<\/p>\n

track in melodic intervals, me in a steady cadence and him passing me with speed of a<\/p>\n

cheetah and grace of a gazelle, and then coming to a stop, which allows me to catch up<\/p>\n

and then pass him. We didn’t make eye contact.<\/p>\n

At one point, I watched him running from the other side of the track, and I thought to<\/p>\n

myself, how are black people reacting to this movement of Black Lives Matter? Is it<\/p>\n

demeaning in any way to have a national campaign support a group of people that belong<\/p>\n

here? It’s the year 2016. We have made much progress over the years. Why do black<\/p>\n

people need a rally cry that their lives matter?\u00a0 We, as a nation, seem to have surpassed<\/p>\n

racism and hate on a broad scale, but unfortunately people of different races, religions,<\/p>\n

gender and sexual orientation are still mistreated. Our nation is made up of so many<\/p>\n

races, which is what makes our nation diverse and rich. All lives matter. Yet with the<\/p>\n

recent shootings and media coverage on racism, it seems like we have taken a few steps<\/p>\n

back. I felt compassion, confusion and a deep sadness as well as hope, running around<\/p>\n

the track with this man.<\/p>\n

Soon I noticed a young, bright-eyed boy, who looked about 8 years old, walking up the<\/p>\n

stairs to the track with his family. They looked like immigrants from Somalia, with their<\/p>\n

dark skin, slender bodies. They wore nice clothes and the women wore hijabs. The boy<\/p>\n

was curious about the running man and watched him with intrigue. I looked at the boy as<\/p>\n

I rounded the track and we smiled into each other\u2019s eyes. I felt so present and alive after<\/p>\n

receiving the boy\u2019s warm, innocent smile. I made another round and then noticed the<\/p>\n

running man was speeding up and was about to pass me on my right. The boy slowly<\/p>\n

approached the man on the side of he track, \u00a0raised his arm and opened his hand. The<\/p>\n

man reached out and met his hand as he flew by. I wanted some of that too, so I shifted<\/p>\n

my direction so I could get closer to the boy and I reached out and he gave me a<\/p>\n

magnificent high-five.<\/p>\n

My entire body started to fill up with joy, starting from my feet, then to my belly and up<\/p>\n

to my heart, until a few tears rolled down my cheek. My earlier feelings of fear,<\/p>\n

worry,\u00a0and anxiety from all the mind chatter were gone and what had replaced it was<\/p>\n

love, hope and a sense of what really matters \u2013 human connection. I turned the corner<\/p>\n

and saw the running man stretching on the side of the track. He looked up at me and we<\/p>\n

gave each other a smile. This boy brought us all together on the track that day. It was a<\/p>\n

nice reminder of how human interaction can be so powerful and free from prejudices, hate<\/p>\n

or biases. Just every day people reaching out.\u200b<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

After my last blog, The Black Snow Queen, appeared, my daughter, Aeron Hansen, wrote\u00a0 this beautiful essay. I want to share it with my readers: Is every trip to the market the same? Sometimes it can feel like you’re just … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1139","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1139","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1139"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1139\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1140,"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1139\/revisions\/1140"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1139"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1139"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/elizabethclarkstern.com\/wordpress\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1139"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}