September 17, 2019-
“Well help me figure this place out. I know I’m an outsider, but I’m not an enemy.” “No, you’re not. But in this town those two words mean the same thing.” – Toni Morrison, “Paradise”
So, I was part of an interview, this morning, promoting a Home Safety event, sponsored by the American Red Cross, and to be held this coming Saturday. Inside that little room, among friends, I felt like somebody, safe and honoured. The interview went well, and I felt secure in sharing it on social media, once back in my apartment.
Walking from the studio to Ms. Natural’s, I crossed the Courthouse Plaza, normally a neutral place, where all are welcome, at least officially. Today, I had to pass by those who glared at me in my Red Cross shirt and ball cap; pass by the well-to-do, who look down at anyone not dressed for business. It’s never pleasant dealing with the Self-Perceived Originals, in any community.
It was much different at Ms. Natural’s, as it always is. Claudia and the young ladies are not from here, either, and know some of what gets thrown around, by some of the Pioneer Families and the faux elite. I am at home there. Sharlot Hall, one of the original pioneers, for whom Prescott’s Historical Museum is named, would spin in her grave at the pretense and the snobbery.
No matter; I am here to serve those who need it and just have to put my lingering Impostor Syndrome and refugee mentality aside. The people who accept me, and take me into their circle, are also from somewhere else. These are the ones who matter. They are the ones who make it all worthwhile. Home, for me, is a fluid term.