I'd like to say I've been lazy about blogging lately (those who followed my blog years ago know very well that I can get lazy about it!). But, no... I'm just busy with work & life. And there's nothing wrong with that, eh?
And part of the focus of this blog is to share all the reasons I ride - all twenty-plus years of reasons. I took a few minutes to dig through some old file folders today (seriously, it was like an archaeological dig). There were so many little "finds" of a very young me. Here's one from when I was 25 years old. Back then, I managed a community HIV education program and one spring we took a group of young speakers from Portland, OR all the way out to a small county in Eastern Oregon. We spent our days telling our stories to class after class. High schools, elementary schools, community colleges, middle schools. And, one night, the community had scheduled a "Town Hall" meeting and asked us to participate by sharing our stories. There were five of us... and I was the oldest. Jako was on that panel. And a very young, beautiful couple - Erick and Christine. Who was the fifth? Ah, crap - how I can I forget who the fifth participant was? That surprises me. Because, of the thousands (and I mean, THOUSANDS) of speaking engagements I participated in, this was one of the most memorable. I think Jako would agree with that.
Maybe it was because we had spent a day traveling across the state to get to this little burg. Could've been the fact we had spent the week speaking to dozens of groups, fielding questions, deflecting religious protests and freaked out parents (I mean, God forbid you talk to children about HIV! Hearing how it's transmitted could harm them for life!). The Town Hall might have been memorable because it was the culmination of a week spent together, sleeping in college visitor dorm rooms, shuttling around from school to school as a group. And maybe we were just worn out and emotional. But I don't think it was any of those things. That night - and to this day - I think it was one of those magical moments when a group of people connect on a level that we rarely get to experience. I'm not just talking about the five of us that were on the panel. No... the audience. For those two hours, everyone in that room was one.
We tried something new that evening. I remember telling the team that I wanted to ensure it seemed coherent and structured. My memory tells me the reason I made this request was because I was very anxious about this event. The entire town was invited - and we'd experienced some less than optimal experiences during the week. So we structured it by sticking to a "round-robin" kind of presentation. I started, and told my story up to a particular milestone. Then passed it on to the next person, who then told their story up to the same milestone. We worked our way down the panel then it was back to me to continue my story to the next milestone.
By the second round, I remember listening to Jako speaking and the tears began streaming down my face. It was around this time she happened to look over at me and her own waterworks started. By the end of that second round, an entire county was bawling in this tiny little community center.
We hadn't told a story any different than the one we had told many, many times before. I don't know exactly what it was that did it. But that experience - the whole experience, from the road trip to each of those panel discussions - has stuck with me 'til this day. And today in my little excavation, I found dozens of letters from some of the audience members from that trip. At the time it seemed like everyone in the county wrote to us. Many of the letters were addressed to the others in the group and I passed those on to them. As for this one, it may not be one of the best but it felt very "real" to me. So here it is... from a young woman named Abby (all last names are hidden for confidentiality reasons). A woman who was my age - twenty-five - at the time she met our little group.
So, yeah, maybe I am a hoarder since I'm holding on to things that are old and worthless. But, as they say, one mans junk is another ones treasure.
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