This Life I Live

Again that feeling that my exploded life is boomeranging back to me. It feels like a bizarre series of coincidences, but it’s not. It’s the life I’ve made for myself. It’s all related and interconnected. I started my day at F&B Cafe, which I love, even though it’s a stark reminder of privilege when I go straight from there to Central City Concern. The suffering was strong today, the people cold. I thought I knew suffering and it couldn’t hurt me anymore, I was wrong. In prison people are dry and warm and have access to showers and washing machines. Watching people suffer from the elements is a new kind of pain.

After CCC I went straight to my Spanish for Social and Legal Services class, that I registered for way back in May. The professor made the announcement that on Wednesday we’re going to have a live video call from a court interpreter working on the US-Mexico border. That court interpreter is a man who wrote me while I was still in prison after reading my Vice article, and we’ve since stayed in touch via email. I put my professor in touch with him, and they arranged a video call for Wednesday. Because: prison, that article, registering for this class.

The class lesson today was all about how to be an interpreter and we did interpreter training activities. The professor displayed a course flyer for state certification, and I emailed them to ask about getting certified with my criminal history. I went straight from that interpreting lesson to my first session as a medical interpreter. It seems like a strange coincidence, but it’s just the ripples of the stones I’ve dropped.

The appointment went way better than I thought it would! I knew how to say almost everything. I came home to a homemade healthy dinner and then we went and did CrossFit together. Showered and chilled out to music and thought about how much I love this life I’ve built for myself.