by Britt Larson-Jackson

It is a small city that has large significance. People of all different shapes and sizes, from various ethnic groups, in different colors and from different cultures, swarm its streets, scurrying to complete their tasks before the day runs out. The city caters to many different breeds: the posh upscale Washingtonians who walk around with an ego so engorged that they can hardly flash a halfway decent smile and the slightly more refined middle-class families who are acquainted with city habits but typically refrain, staying steadfast to their gluten-free, Tesla-hybrid, kale-crunching lifestyle. There are the low-lives and people who live under bridges surviving from one welfare check to the next, but there are also those who are trying to escape their poverty in order to elevate their quality of living. Then…there is the largest group of them all, the politicians. It is practically impossible to step outside your door without seeing one.  Tread lightly and keep your opinions to yourself…they’ve been known to bite people’s heads off for holding certain political views. For them, the bottom line is that if it is not red or blue, it is not their concern. This city, Washington D.C., is a place for tourists, families, young business professionals, elderly people, bums, and the leader of this great nation that we are so fortunate to be a part of. Not everyone is aware of this, but this diverse little city is divided into four quadrants and each one has so much to offer its tenants, including various cultural experiences, rich luscious beauty, and valuable knowledge.

First, there is Northeast Washington, D.C.  NE is well known for the National Arboretum, Gallaudet University for the Deaf, and it has a wide variety of restaurants to suit any desired dining experience. It is also known for a colossal building made out of creamy white marble pillars, adorned with flags and momentous phrases representing several different cultures and countries. This beautiful structure is known as Union Station. It is the east coast connector, giving southern Floridians access to cool, crisp Maine. It is interesting to see such a broad variety of people in such a condensed space. This station serves as a portal for people from all different backgrounds to explore new places, beknown and unbeknownst to them.  Despite all the good things NE has to offer, there is a dense population of homeless people who are usually affected by mental illness, physical ailments, sexual harassment, and drug abuse. Recently, several homeless people died just outside Union Station on the steps of the old Post office due to a drug overdose of synthetic marijuana.

That account is a sour taste of the city, but on a more positive note the city hosts several marches, runs, and bike races to support various charities. When I was a little girl, my mother and I really enjoyed utilizing the city’s trails. We would go hiking with our dogs through Rock Creek Park, which is a huge swath of park land set aside as a National Park by President Theodore Roosevelt for outdoor enjoyment. I would go for brisk jogs in the fall surrounded by the vibrant fall foliage. The leaves on the trees were painted with bright candy apple red, soft savory yellow and orange glows as warm as the sun. When I was lucky, a roaring wind would run through the forest, telling the leaves to strut their colors. At the age of eight years old I had the opportunity to participate in a race called the Marine Corps Marathon Three Mile Fun Run. This race was a precursor to the Marine Corps Marathon and was for children ages ten and under. I had a blast, I remember being able to run with the marines who periodically shouted encouraging phrases such as “You can do it, keep on going!” Then as we approached the finish line, we saw a lineup of marines in formal uniform holding big red and blue medals to present to us for our participation. When I received that medal, I knew all the running was worth it; a great big smile emerged on my face, and joy flowed inside my heart.

Just next door we have Northwest, the largest quadrant, and an area that in some parts  resembles a whimsical forest, thick with beautiful trees, patched with creeks and rolling waterfalls, embellished with intricate rock structures, and garnished with twisty, turning paths. Yet it is also the home to the President of the United States, who is stationed in the gorgeous, grand White House. Northwest holds several museums and clusters of Embassies and has been the home to nearly every U.S. President. It is where the National Cherry Blossom Festival is held, and it is where a little girl got to witness President Barack Obama commute to church the day after his inauguration. Once again I got another capitalized perspective. At the age of eight I went to sleep after hearing the fresh news that the new president of the United States had been announced as Mr. Barack Obama. Once his presidency was definite, a large part of the U.S. public expressed their dissatisfaction with the outcome of the election in a very blunt fashion. But myself, a little eight-year-old, not fully aware of the dissatisfaction expressed by the American public, just continued living a carefree, innocent eight-year-old life. However, my mother always tried to show me the bright side of every situation and therefore she told me to look out my window the following morning because the President would be driving by that day on his way to church. So, the next morning, I sat by the window, eagerly waiting for the president to make his appearance. Then, sure enough, that Sunday morning I heard the loud thunder of motorcycles and saw the bright flashing lights of the police cars driving up my street, ushering the president past my house. Not knowing which car the President was in, I looked at all the vehicles with wide eyes, determined to identify the car that was carrying the President. I called for my Mom to come watch with me, and as the two of us watched, I exclaimed, “Not every kid gets to see the President!” This story is just another example of the special experiences the city has to offer.

 

An entirely different part of the city is Southeast Washington, where many of the district’s hoodlums tend to gravitate toward. Mainly due to poor education, poverty, and neglect, the crime rate in this area is elevated far above other parts of the city. Quite a number of years ago, a now middle-aged man named Stephen found himself in an area of Southwest that could even make a pirate tremble in his boots. He recounted the story a little like this: as a young lawyer, he was taking ataxi to SE to interview a witness for a case he had. Although his environment was already making him feel uneasy, he told his driver to leave then come back to pick him up within the hour. Confirming Stephen’s uneasy feelings, his driver refused to leave him, stating, “I want you to come out alive.”

Although there is darkness in this area, there is light as well. The most luminous light that comes to my mind is the light being shed at Christmas time from the ARC- Anacostia River Church. The pastor of this humble, yet mighty congregation is Thabiti Anyabwile. There is no better way to describe this man than as a lover of truth, justice, peace, patience, love and God. Every Christmas Thabiti offers the opportunity to his whole church and a few other churches in the area to participate in an event called “Carols in the Hood.” The name is rather self-explanatory.  Around Christmas time, church members l go out in the late evening hours door-to-door singing joyful Christmas carols and songs of praise. I was so fortunate to attend one of these gatherings, and although I was a little bit nervous about the journey at first, I ended up blissfully enjoying the adventure. One of Thabiti’s daughters, Eden, was a good friend of mine, and we had a ball. In our group we travelled from one house to the next walking briskly, sometimes jogging, trying to escape the bitter cold clutches of winter, attempting to stay warm. Between little sips of hot cocoa that we brought for the journey, we laughed and told terrible jokes that somehow in the freezing cold seemed hysterical. Then we approached the door of a SE Washingtonian, not knowing what we would find when the door opened; we awaited an answer with big smiles and rosy cheeks. Then once the door swung open, we all loaded our lungs with a big breath of air and began belting out the most joyous of tunes. The more we sang, the more the resident’s smile grew, and the more Christmas spirit was shared. Being able to fill homes with joy is a gift in and of itself and not just something to do at Christmas. Oh no, let joy be spread around the city always even where it seems hopeless.   This experience helped me to understand and appreciate a part of the city that was once foreign and frightening to me.

Finally, there is Southwest, an up and coming quadrant. This area used to be very undesirable for inhabitants due to the rampant crime rate and the rundown atmosphere. The Potomac River borders its streets and is home to the Wharf. The wharf is a large attraction in this part of the city for locals and tourists. This waterfront has existed for a very long time but had little to offer other than three great restaurants and a venue for the well-to-do to dock their expensive schooners. Thirty-two years ago a young couple, Laurie and Steve, my wonderful parents, were able to celebrate their wedding reception at a beautiful seafood restaurant on the bank of the Potomac River. They account their reception as being full of warmth, joy, and excitement in the beautiful atmosphere of the waterfront where they expressed their love for one another and shared it with their friends and family. The couple described the venue as beautiful because it was quiet, peaceful, and full of light; the natural world and their friends and family amplified the beauty.  Now, that is only a fondly held memory from over three decades ago because the couple explained, “if we traveled to that part of the city today, the only thing we would recognize is the water.” Gentrification was introduced to SE. Everything has been transformed into something totally new. It is a bustling venue.  The waterfront is now home to many new restaurants, boutiques, an independent bookstore, and one of the top theaters in the city.  SE has changed for the better and continues to expand in positive ways.

I hope through this article you have gained a better appreciation for what D.C. is and what it has to offer. There is widespread diversity in the city and I guarantee you can always find a different little taste of culture, beauty and knowledge in every area. Although every area is unique and different, there is one thing that joins all of the District together: the United States Capitol building. It sits at a point where it is the at the center of the District, touching all of the four quadrants. This building with its big white dome topped with the Statue of Freedom high in the sky joins the District together as one.

 

 

 

Work Cited

Weil, Martin, and Clarence Williams. “Dozens of Suspected Overdoses around Union Station.”

The Washington Post,  WP Company, 14 Sept. 2018,www.washingtonpost.com/local/public-safety/2018/09/14/d2b0452e-b88e-11e8-a2c5-3187f427e253_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.af42261b4033.