Front Porch

I want to open the door and sit on the porch but I am afraid. What do I do once I'm out there? What if no one talks to me? What if someone does talk to me? Will I look obvious, like I'm trying really hard to fit into a world I can never understand?

In Sandtown, everyone sits on their front porch. Five, six, seven people will be gathered on these itty, bitty four steps in front of houses that are seamlessly attached to one another. Some sit in front of abandoned houses, the boards marking the poverty that has ripped through this community year after year.

My outsider status is obvious, beige in a sea of brown. What would I do on the porch? Do I bring a book? Do I wait expectantly? Can I step out into their world? Or stay trapped in the comfort of my gated backyard and hulu filled evenings. Is that a way to reconcile? But will they accept me? I want to step out. I want to open the door and wait on the steps, somewhat awkwardly. I will do it before I leave. Hopefully it will be sooner rather than later. Stay posted.