South Mountain Village
For this portion of our class, we were assigned to interview a migrant to the U.S. living here in Phoenix. I had a few ideas of people to talk to, but I wasn’t pushing the limits of the assignment. A friend referred me to South Phoenix for the assignment. I had never been there, so I thought it would be an excellent destination.
The experience was none other than shocking. I took Central Ave to South Mountain Village. Crossing the bridge to that part of town was like crossing over to a new country. The buildings. The colors. The sounds. It was all so foreign to me. I was raised in the Northwest Valley and, to me, this was Phoenix. When I think of this city, I think of a typical American conformist metropolitan city. TO my surprise I realized that there is culture here.
I met a lady who owns a convenient store in South Mountain who recognized the division in this city. She questioned why if “our American God is the same as her Mexican God” we could be so far from each other? I couldn’t help but ask myself the same question.
I had to take a moment and look around. Am I absorbing a life of diverse possibilities, or do I only think I am?
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