Pursuit of justice

Something vital in the way I am wired, is a sense of justice for people experiencing none.  I remember growing up asking over and over, “Why do I have food to eat and a roof over my head when there are many who go without?”  I was not naïve to the disparity in the world, but saw only glimpses of it in my limited worldview.  The magnitude of the issue is overwhelming and disheartening, and at times hopeless.  When I think of justice fully expressed, I think of harmony and peace.  I think of calm in the midst of chaos.  I imagine equality in a world full of discrimination.  

Is there a point where our personal struggle for justice becomes an injustice for another?  Who suffers as we try to create a fair world?  I never thought that pursuing things like justice, community development, equality, peace, etc. would lead to pandemonium in a way that actually creates injustice for others.

I ask the question about our fight for justice becoming an injustice for another because I think about my family, more specifically I think about my children.  We live in one of the most, if not the most, unruly areas of Minneapolis.  What started as a decision to live near friends and immerse ourselves into an under-developed neighborhood in efforts to help cultivate it, has led me to see my children experience a sort of unfairness in another way. 

Though the winters here are less rowdy, the non tundra-like months are ones of raucous and disorder.  It is uncommon for a week to go by without hearing gun shots ring through the surrounding area.  Police cars are constantly canvassing the streets and sirens are always sounding.  My husband and I have each individually witnessed a drive-by shooting in our six years of living here, one right outside our window and the other just a few blocks away.  (Side note: friends, do not be alarmed.  You can still come visit us).  This is what inadvertently affects my children.  In a way, there is a bit of their childhood they are deprived of.  That is having the independence to run around and play outside, ride their bikes down the block, walk to the park, etc.  In efforts to protect them from the mayhem, we take away a piece of their freedom to just be a kid.

When we chose to immerse ourselves into this neighborhood, we unavoidably began to absorb the injustices and the chaos that the people around us experience.  I wonder if we listened to the voices of those weaker than ourselves if our pursuit of justice would look any different.  For now, I hold on to hope for a better day for this neighborhood and trust that our presence is not squandered.