Senior Emma Anselin considered herself a determined advocate for making a difference. But then she went on the Habitat for Humanity trip to Clarksdale, Miss., during Agora Days. She came back with a new appreciation for what “crossing the road” truly means on a daily basis.

EMMA ANSELIN
Gargoyle senior editor
Posted Wednesday, March 14, 2007
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I ARRIVED IN Clarksdale, Miss., beneath a pile of coats, pillowcases, and duffel bags, amidst the smell of Chex mix and granola bars. It was the weekend of Feb. 17-18, and I was about to begin the weeklong Habitat for Humanity trip with 17 other Uni students and our chaperones, including teachers Bill Sutton, Chris Butler, and Doug Mynatt.

My view through the dust-coated windows was blocked by a swaying tower of suitcases. Yet my first glimpses of the Mississippi Delta, and all its contrasts, are forever cemented in my mind.

We drove through a stretch of countryside lined with cotton fields. We passed through a cluster of decaying storefronts in the town of Coahoma, their roofs tattered and sunken. We skirted the sweeping lawns of a columned mansion, where the white, land-owning Sherard family continues to live and prosper.

On the outskirts of Clarksdale, we glimpsed the life of the white elite in a row of plush McMansions. Then we pulled into the Habitat for Humanity dorm, next door to several vacant lots where torn-down shacks had been replaced with old tires and beer cans. Several neighborhood children had gathered on the front porch, eager for attention when their families were too crunched for time and money to give it.

But the picture that wraps most vividly around my mind is of the community that has gathered to change these inequalities. “Southern hospitality” does nothing to describe the warmth and compassion that shines through it.

This is a community built from the message of the Good Samaritan, who crossed the road to help a beaten man when others would only pass by. I began my Mississippi experience with this exact story preached at the King's Temple Baptist Church, as the pastor exclaimed, “Cross the road.”

I believe this message transcends specific faiths. It tells us to lend help and support to those around us, to take action in our surroundings instead of passively watching them evolve.

Before coming to Clarksdale, I had never thought of myself as a passive person. I did not turn a blind eye to social ills. In fact, I considered myself a fairly determined advocate for making a difference.

Yet as the phrase “cross the road” sifted through my mind, I realized that my approach to issues of race, class, and opportunity that echoed in Champaign-Urbana and the Uni community had been to become more self-centered.

When faced with inequality and its complex web of influences, I withdrew to analyze. I worried over what exactly my stance was on the problem, and how to show others that it was valid.

I argued over who exactly had wronged and who had been wronged. I grew preoccupied over who should feel guilty or be held accountable. In the process, I did nothing to change the situation. Rather than crossing the road, I seemed to place more obstacles in my way.

In Mississippi, I discovered a starkly different perspective. The people I encountered in Clarksdale, who work to confront the deepest inequalities, do not argue over analyzing the situation. They do not accuse those who have avoided working for change in the past, nor do they challenge individuals with new thoughts on how to bring change.

Instead the members of this community come together to redeem the situation for everyone, no matter what their status in life or outlook on the problem. They share a powerful sense of direction, toward simply improving the life of those around them. And their emphasis on love and empathy is instrumental to fulfilling this purpose.

Anyone can join the message of this community, from those who need help the most to those who have come from distant nests of comfort to give it. We were heartily accepted into this atmosphere, regardless of the color of our skin or the privilege that awaited us at home. As soon as we embraced their mission, it was so easy to immediately begin making a difference, even as small as putting up a piece of drywall.

The sense of bringing concrete change was so exhilarating compared to the standstill that I had experienced at Uni. The attitude of the Clarksdale community is what drives this change and has completely transformed certain areas of Coahoma County.

In order to make a difference at Uni for the better, I think that we can all learn from the Clarksdale perspective. I hope that we can simply come together to redeem the situation for everyone involved, to act instead of analyze or accuse. I believe that we can echo the compassion and support I witnessed at Clarksdale, and grasp the chance every day to cross the road.

RELATED

— Audio slideshow: Reflections on the Habitat for Humanity trip

— Photos: 2007 Habitat for Humanity trip

— Story: Back to Clarksdale