705 Summit Avenue in East St. Louis is where I have gone in the past for Grace, kindness, and often the hard kernel of truth that I need to push myself forward -- to stand up and finish the journey. I have the most wonderful conversations with a woman who lives her Faith every day , year after year. Recently, my 86 year old parents got pushed aside when the Catholic Church decided to close St. Dominic Savio. Over the years, I often find myself being the liberal who defends the Church. But I have been fortunate to see the true beauty of the Church "and awe came upon every soul". Acts 2:43. I don't quote a lot of scripture, but Father Boyle uses this line and when I see what Catholic priests and sisters do. Then definitely awe comes upon me. It could be Father Leonsyo in northern Uganda, it could be Father Braun many sundays, or it could be Sister Carol on the East Side. This is the Church I love. This is what guides my Faith. I have to figure out a way to have breakfast with this remarkable woman, who spreads her love to families, and to me every time I see her. Years ago, Sister Carol saw there were opportunities for young men in her community to be educated at Loyola Academy. It meant the 11 or 12 year olds would have to walk to a bus, take the bus to Metro Link, take Metro Link to Grand, take the Grand Bus to Lindell, then walk two blocks. She had a dream for Micah and Eddie and Calvin and Malik.
This is Malik's story, the kid who actually put in the work and got to school this way for three years. On cold days and hot days, days with snow, and days with rain, Malik go to school. A lot of battles can be won with your head and your heart, but do not ever forget your feet have to be in the right place also. Loyola remains a treasure tucked into a corner just north of Saint Louis University. Where 60-70 young men go to school from early morning until dinner time and then come back for six weeks during the summer. It is designed to give young men like Malik a chance. But the work has to come from each young boy, and the work is hard, and the hours are long.
When I was there as a teacher and Malik was there as a student. We preached that we wanted each young boy to become a Loyola Man. It was important to know what a man is, and often young boys in this country get many different views of what this is. Malik had a good smile, a head full of dreadlocks, and a propensity to be polite or to help out. He was also a 6th grader, so at times those great skills of stepping forward were harder to carry out in practice. I remember Malik even years later, when he would come back to help as a high school student, could be one of the most helpful young men in the school. The Jesuits talk about a "Man for Others". Malik came back to be there for the young students as an alumni.
This morning when I first saw, Malik he was different. The dreads were gone, and he was no longer a skinny little kid. He was a man. I was seated across the table from a man who is working two jobs and working to move forward, to build something with his life. He has the experience of 3 years at Loyola, and even more important the years of mentoring at the Family Center, but Malik worked hard and continues to work hard. As we talked, he was trying to make the restaurant he works at -- a better place. I think of Amos working just as hard as Malik on the other side of the world, and I wish somehow I could bring Amos here. I think Malik and Amos would get along fine. And I think Malik would be the perfect host, giving of his own time to make sure our visitor felt welcome. I am going to have to buy one more lottery ticket-- this dream is too perfect.
Malik could be strong in his viewpoints and argue passionately. We both forget what the bet was about, but somehow I bested him in a wager, and he still owes me one of his dreadlocks. One of the best and most enjoyable experiences I had at Loyola is when I would occasionally drive the East Side kids home. They loved it, because it meant door to door service instead of their usual 5 vehicle way home. I loved it, because the conversations were so real and so honest and they would do their best to tell me about their home. They would not be shy about telling me the realities of growing up in East St. Louis. And even at our breakfast, Malik casually mentioned about moving across the river and staying downtown.
I do not remember why or how it happened, but I do remember a day when it was Malik and Calvin and I and we stopped at the Taco Bell along I-64 and there were literally nothing but fields surrounding the restaurant. We walked over to one of the fields and did our best to create a 3 man football game. I think we played for about an hour, and I had the best time. I still enjoy it when I make up rules to a new game with my friends of 40 years. I will have to remember to do that in a couple of weeks when we travel to Pittsburgh. Kids everywhere should have a time and a place to play. To throw a football and not to worry about anything but catching the pass, and then of course to make up an elaborate and spontaneous touchdown dance.
Malik told me today, how much he and his classmates enjoy seeing each other when they stumble upon each other in their daily lives. I have to remember to make the Christmas reunion this year, I am not intentional enough about attending. Malik told me that the students at Loyola, his classmates, are his brothers. Maybe if they learned nothing else, and they did have a strong educational experience, they learned this-- how to be a brother. This IS what community looks like.
I dropped Malik off at his job, and right away he started working and trying to make things better. Malik is moving forward. He is a man now. He is a Loyola man, and I am so damn proud of him and who he is. A woman who lives her Faith named Carol started the ball rolling and Malik has now found his own momentum and his own path.
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