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My dance instructor, Lou, dances with legendary Zydeco Joe.
I have been maddened, saddened, and frustrated by the happenings in Ferguson, Missouri. Could this happen in my own home town?
I asked this question to the line of people at Solomon House on Tuesday morning. Solomon House is an outreach mission that distributes groceries once a week to the poor in our community. I go every Tuesday morning around 7 AM and greet the clients. This Tuesday our Executive Director was out of town. She usually gives the devotional. I was asked to do it in her absence.
Clients wait for Brown Bag give out at Solomon House.
I was a bit emotional and nervous to address this mixed crowd. As I looked at the group, I saw white men and women as well as black men and women, young and old. Poverty does not know race. Neither does God.
I continued with my talk.
My husband and I love to Zydeco dance. We are two white people who didn’t know how to dance until we started taking lessons three or so years ago. Now we enjoy going out to dance. Zydeco dancers come in all colors. There are black men dancing with white women, old dancing with young, and women dancing with women. God wants us to be like Zydeco dancers. He wants us all to dance together no matter how old we are or what color we are.
I am also a teacher. I teach young elementary students. In the cafeteria yesterday, as the kindergarten students are getting accustomed to school, I asked an older student to take a kindergarten student to class. They held hands without hesitation, a black child and a white child. Children do not know prejudice.
Let us be like Zydeco dancers and like children. Let us hold hands and dance together.
Reflections on the Teche 