Sluggish votes

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Today I help friends working with the Obama camp deliver a message to the community, we arrive our destination white apartment complex with gleaming lawn and green windows. Our mission simple at best informs eligible Somali voters of the early voting possibilities, register them if they are not registered, and see if they will commit. The complex hosted majority Somali’s with about 500 hundred homes. We park at the rental office small cavalry 80 percent first born Somali American., as for myself I’m the minority in this group; the 20 percent that had grown up in the west but are reluctant to have had glimpse of back home in its last dire state. We stood in circle preparing for the canvass. It was late afternoon, the sun shying away from the blue sky and resonated in the green sharply cut and crispy grass with pleasant aroma that escapes with the wind. Parody we are after, it’s consumed in this great valley that house the every bit that measures the grain of the Somali version of the American pie. Ironically, I feel as though they live in pristine accommodations away from their true identities. As we pair up and separate in mini faction, we were to play scavenger hunting game conducive to the preservations of the valley, so; we walk to walk and talk to talk it’s every inch pursuing to make rightful claim to this mystical grain. This piece of grain if, we learn to harness and endure its faith perhaps- it could be the gift that keeps giving. And implant that we could learn to grow with someday in distant dream serving our people as tool to coexist in the many valleys that wait on the crossroad of the parallel home now resides in our heart and mind. Many knocks in the valley we made ample contacts like a zipper binding the two sides that never seem to engage in each other affairs-frowns, intrigue tingle and along the way words were exchange. The valley lived up to its great warmth of hospitality and a surrogate that was present with every door that opens exhales this innate character into life. Hovering from apartment to apartment, we saw enthusiastic kids at the playground unsupervised chatting and two little girls wearing hijab at about 6 or 7 years old struggle to fix this pink bike of theirs as we passed them we circled back to find the rest of the groups. As we converge in a resting area between the apartments we run into the same little two girls persistently fidgeting with same bike- the chain had fallen from the track of the pedal and her hand brake broken from the bars but they were adamant about fixing this bike. So, we helped them fix this old bike placing the chain back on the track and as for the hand brakes we used my friends her band to secure into bar. She took off riding the bike like extreme biker run off the pavement and even threw out small bag trash to dumpster. My friend observes little girl quietly and said to me look now she is helping her family by throwing the trash. In small way the valley is my family pointing from same heritage and blood line. The valley is where I shine and the world notices me and the people that reside in these are incline to care for the parallel homes in their hearts. Lets breakdown the euphemism for this sluggish mind set we come to accept. If we are practical and rational and progressive when in the valleys of the west – is it too far of charade we put on, as pose to, when we are in the valleys of the east. Who will intervene when it is necessary for us to do so, because my generation and the generation that will preceded us will not indulge in the struggles of the valleys of the east , it would have been yesterdays problem.
Enjoy as always...keep the heritage alive