Alyssa Morgan
*One Stop Grocery and Rim Shopping * |
Sitting on a parking curb outside of the Da-Lite Market and Liquor Store I
realize that I feel far from home, far from my tiny, organized and artistically
limited world. Here on the South
West corner of 7th Avenue and Broadway in a part of the valley that is known as
South Phoenix one can see, as I see, a market that is bright white, blue and
canary yellow. Strung along the
roof are large multi-colored lights. I’m
talking blue, yellow, green, purple and red lights.
Big bulbs, not the tiny kind people put up at Christmas. I like lights, I always have.
No rules, freedom of lighting. No
rules, freedom of color. I wonder
to myself what these large vibrant colored bulbs would look like when they are
lit up at night. I bet I will never
see the vivacious colors lit above the market at night.
You see, I’m not supposed to stay in South Phoenix, here on the corner
of 7th Avenue and Broadway, especially after dark.
I’m not supposed to like it, because here in South Phoenix on the
corner of 7th Avenue and Broadway there are many Hispanics, not to mention
strings of vivid-colored lights on the Da-Lite Market’s roof.
In contrast, where I live (which is not too far away) there are no
multi-colored lights. There is no
majority of multi-colored persons. No,
never these things in my world. So,
you understand, I’m not supposed to stay here long, sitting on this curb, and
I’m certainly not supposed to like the multi-colored lights that stay up
year-round.
Next to and connected with the
Da-Lite Market is a rim shop. The
bright silver rims can be seen from down the street. Lined up in rows, behind a cage-like exterior.
No glass windows here. Cages
are not as easily broken into, I think to myself.
Outside the rim shop several Hispanic men are standing in a semi-circle.
At first I think a fight is breaking out, but then I realize that the men
are only play fighting. I wonder
why they are not working at 2:30 in the afternoon. I wonder if they are like the men where I live
only twenty miles away. I think to
myself, that my world seems
farther away than that. I can’t
understand what the group of men is saying. But if they talk to me, I will say
“No quiero ser tu novia”, because I am fearful.
Maybe I am fearful of their foreign language.
Perhaps I am fearful of the multi-colored lights.
Perhaps I am fearful because of the honking cars that pass our group.
No, this place is not the same. It is not like the Fry’s Market down
the street in my neighborhood, where there are no groups of men standing
outside and certainly no strands of large, brightly colored lights.
Before I
leave, I see a group of kids get off the school bus and walk towards the
crosswalk. They are talking. They
look at me and my group sitting or standing by the Da-Lite Market.
I feel obvious, like I stick out and everyone is judging me.
I feel like I am not wanted here. I
don’t like how this feels. I feel like running down the street and screaming,
“I like the lights, I’ve always liked lights, I really like the lights”.
I feel like defending myself. I
feel like I want to be accepted and no longer be an outcast. But, upon reflection, I have to consider that perhaps it has
been South Phoenix which has been outcast and forced to separate from the rest
of Phoenix. Perhaps South Phoenix
looks at me standing under the multi-colored lights looking uncomfortable and
"it" thinks, you didn’t want me to be a part of your
world, why should I let you be a part of mine? Well anyway,
maybe I’m reading into South Phoenix too deeply, but I really do like those
lights. I've always liked lights.