I hate the expectations with first posts, but at least I have a story.

I'm not one for introductions, so I'll start this whole thing off with a story. This isn't my first day, just your standard issue Monday morning.

I-70 ends gracelessly at the beltway. For some reason, all on-ramps to the beltway are one lane, so the interstate highway, going strong since the middle of Colorado, suddenly finds itself crunched down into a little, curving path headed for 695. This would not be a source of confusion if anyone had the right of way. A series of three large signs instruct motorists, "single lane ahead," "alternate right of way," and finally, "form single lane NOW." There are traffic jams here daily, though thankfully they are not always long.

Monday morning, it was long. After learning from NPR that the probable cause was an accident at least five miles down the beltway, I decided there was no way I could sit in traffic like that.

Impatience clouding better judgment, I escaped via the Security Boulevard Park & Ride exit with the theory that the sun would point me east, and a path due east would take me to Charles Street. During my early days of driving, when I lived in rural Pennsylvania, this approach had taken me on some fantastic scenic routes and led me to discover plenty of new roads. When it's not at the front of my mind I forget this isn't the best approach in the city.

Utterly lost in Baltimore's west side, all I can say is it's one of the few times I've been thankful for my car's crappy paint job. In all my time riding SEPTA buses and working in Philadelphia last summer, I have never seen so many boarded up houses. I couldn't see any homes that weren't boarded up, actually, because picking them out would have required me to take my eyes off the road for too long. Grass was growing through every crack in the sidewalk and everything looked dead save for the people gathered on the corners. Often I'm not worldly enough to know when I should be scared, but I was scared then. I knew I needed to make a left from the road I was on at the time, and I drove through a lot of intersections looking for a street large enough that I wouldn't feel like I was seriously targeting myself.

I emerged unscathed, but this was a big reminder just how naive I am. At age 16 I saw the dilapidated shacks sprawling around the perimeter of Lima, Peru through a bus window and I was astounded. This, I thought, is what is it to be in a third world country. There are poor people in the United States, but nothing this bad. I had no idea people even lived like that in the world. Since then I have learned so much, and how ignorant of me. Poverty was something I had read about in books but never seen firsthand. Now, even though I spent a whole summer working with the Camp Girard kids in Philly, and even though I have spent hours at Greater Homewood on grant proposals detailing the need of our partner schools, I still feel like I have no idea. Helping Leigh write an ADA grant I was so surprised to learn a lot of kids don't own toothbrushes. I think about my petty money troubles, and my (for the most part) comfortable middle-class upbringing, and at least I have the sense to realize I'm not even existing in the same world.

Being immersed in this city and its issues, its history, and its bizarre politics is going to make for a roller coaster of a year. I'm going to have to start measuring my own success, life, and relationships with the people I serve in different units. My current bank of experiences just isn't adequate for comparison.