James and his family live across the street from us. His family is a lot like ours, they are white, educated, middle income, a stable two parent home that is not without struggle, but also fully benefiting from the privileges that each of those categories afford them. Shawn occupies a different world completely, even though he lives only a block a way... or rather he did live a block away. A few months ago he got off the school bus with his younger brother to see all of their possession piled on the curb. He and his brother sorted through a few things, grabbing what they could carry and then set out in search of their mother. They ended up staying for the next several nights at a "friend's" house... though they didn't remember his name and their mom was staying somewhere else. This wasn't the first time they had been evicted, and it likely won't be the last. Just another day, even if it was Shawn's 10th birthday.
As James and Shawn moved out of view I grabbed the hands of our boys (Niyah was in a child backpack on my back, cheering just as boisterously if not more than the rest of us, clapping and yelling "running! running!") We held hands to try to stay together as we moved to another point on the course where we hoped to catch a glimpse of our runners again and continue to cheer them on. It was a bit tricky to navigate through paths in the tall brush and through the crowd of others who were doing the same to cheer on their runners. We made it to the next spot on the course with a few moments to spare. We found a place that was less congested and scooted ourselves as close to the course as we dare without getting in the way of the runners. The pack of runners had thinned enough that they now were just spread across a path about 10 yards wide. It was congested but we were close enough to them that we hoped to get a good view of them and give them a boost with our encouragement. Runners filed passed. There was James! We yelled and cheered! "You are looking great James!" "Keep it up!" Not far behind him came Shawn. "Go Shawn!" "You've got this!" "You are doing great." Once they had passed we grabbed hands again and hurried off to our next spot.
Shawn and his 8 year old little brother now live in another neighborhood. I'm not sure exactly where, but they still make it back to our neighborhood regularly. You see, they have found a home with James and his family. Shawn celebrated his 10th birthday at their house, the only birthday celebration he had. Shawn is always full of questions when he is there, curious about the dynamics of life that is foreign to him? "Where do you work?" "When do you get home?" "Do you get to stay in this house?" "How did you get two cars?" "You get to go to the pool because you work at that school? Would you still get to go if you didn't work there anymore?" "You have a bedtime, why?" Shawn and his little brother don't have a bed time. They stay with mom quite a bit of the time, but sometimes they live with an older brothers... unless the police come for them again and they have to go to jail... like they did two nights ago.
There was a lot more room to stand along the course on the far side, but now James and Shawn had passed and we had to wait for a break in the runners to get across and run to the next point. We finally made it across. We hustled again through the tall grass, across the field that was the opening stretch of the race and to a lane just on the other side where the runners were now passing. It was a bit tricky running with Niyah (almost 2) in a backpack, Tate (almost 5) holding one hand, and Kai (7) who wants to run ahead with James and Shawn's younger brothers who are here watching the race too. I'm trying not to lose sight of Kai and encouraging Tate to hustle... and stop dangling on my arm and wanting me to carry/swing him as we go! "I can't carry you! Use your feet and run!" Niyah bounces vigorously in the backpack "Running! Running!" she continues to squeal and clap.
We get to the next point in the course just in time to see James run by, though we are several spectators deep and don't really get to see or cheer for him much. As a few of the spectators move to another point after already cheering their runners on we find a spot to slide in and are again right next to the course. Here comes Shawn. He is clearly tiring, but we yell for him and he sees us. He hears us and picks up the pace enough to pass someone in front of him. We turn to run to the next spot, the spot along the home stretch just before the finish.
Earlier in the day we saw James' mother. She was still reeling from a frantic morning. Shawn had not come over to the house at the agreed time in order to make it to the school and join the team when they left for the race. James' mom had called the numbers she had, driven to several known relatives where he stays sometimes. She eventually found him. "Where have you been?!! We've got to get you to the school!" Shawn's reply, "I forgot." He hadn't really forgotten. He was so eager to tell me about the race the night before when I saw him playing at the park behind our house. His reminder was why we were here to watch. He is on the team because James is, and James' parents often invite he and his little brother to join them in the things they are doing. It was a little bit of trouble tracking down Shawn's mom to get her to sign the waver so he could participate on the team, but now that he has permission James' parents help make sure he has what he needs and gets to where he needs to go. This morning Shawn got up and couldn't find his uniform. He didn't know what to do. He didn't have anyone around who was there to help him find it. He was embarrassed and feeling alone. He didn't know what to do, so he just decided not to show up. When James' mom eventually found him she whisked him off to the course where the rest of the team had already gathered. She talked to the coach and did the necessary running to get him an extra uniform. He now was wearing the team jersey... along with the shorts he had been wearing for at least the last three days and the weary looking high tops with ragged laces. Yes, he was running a cross country race in worn out basketball shoes!
As we waited on the home stretch I listened to some of the others cheering near me! "Pass that guy in front of you! You got him! He's afraid!" "Run, Run! You can make the top 20 if you kick it in!" Neither James nor Shawn were in the top 20 or the top 100 for that matter. James ended up finishing 102nd and Shawn somewhere around 150 out of more than 250 runners. Not bad for two kids running in their first meet, competing against a field comprised of kids 1, 2 or 3 years older than them. While writing this I had to look back at a text to remember what places they had finished. That is a number that already faded from my memory. What will not fade from my memory is the enduring image of the way the race ended.
As we stood along the home stretch James eventually came into view. He was running strong. By strong I mean his pace was good and he was pushing through to the finish. I clarify that because of how starkly his 10 year old thin frame compared to so many of the runners with whom he was running. Some obviously had been running and had a defined runners stride and the muscle definition that showed they had been prepared for this. Some of the other runners were easily a foot taller than James. He seemed small and somewhat frail in contrast, yet he was out there competing well. He too had been prepared for this race. His dad was a runner and was able to offer some additional coaching and tips before the race. His parents had bought him good running shoes and shorts designed for running. Though this was his first cross country race, he had competed a few months earlier in the Indianapolis half marathon (for the second year in a row!) and had finished among the best in his age group. He had inherited running as it were. He was a runner by family of origin and by the privileges that come with being a part of his family. He was running well and we cheered, bursting with pride to see him growing into a family legacy that preceded him and yet is distinctly unique to him all at once.
After James passed we began peering through the clusters of runners trying to see Shawn. After several moments he came into view and we began cheering him on. He had never run a race this long before, and after 1.7 miles of a 1.8 mile race he was clearly dragging. His high tops were loose and heavy as he trudged toward the finish. And then he got close enough to hear us. He heard his name and something changed! A huge smile spread across his face, his feet became lighter, his upper body straightened, his stride quickened and he found something inside that he didn't know was there. He began passing runners left and right, weaving somewhat wildly in and out as he pressed toward the finish. He leaned across the finish line and finally allowed himself to slow down. He was exhausted, but you couldn't tell that from his smile.
Shawn wasn't meant to run this race. Though he has some great natural athleticism, that athleticism must often yield to his circumstances. Unstable housing, food insecurity, transcience, incarceration, neglect... the violence of poverty stands as an unimaginable barrier. Shawn doesn't have the comforts that come in the form of books being read regularly to him as a child, parents who are able to see talents or interests and pay for opportunities to be a part of teams or clubs or camps or lessons that develop those gifts. He does not have a consistent bed time, certainty about where, when and from whom the next meal will come. The legal system is not favorably inclined toward his family. Their connections and experiences are not the kind that open up job opportunities in positions that offer a living wage or something well beyond that. Reliable transportation means walking. He doesn't know who to turn to when he can't find his cross country uniform. Shawn wasn't meant to run in this race, but he ran! He ran well!
This is a story about the contrast between two runners from different worlds, and it is more than that. It is a story that highlights privilege and disadvantage, and it is more than that. This is a story about how friendship across socioeconomic boundaries can close opportunity gaps, and it is more than that. This is a story about what is already inside of people like Shawn. Buried deep beneath any number of adversities and histories lies something more that waits to be called forth. It waits for someone to cheer or shout, to know your name and believe in you.... it waits for someone to come find you when you have lost something, and are ashamed, and decide not to show up. It waits in you. It waits in me. It waits!
