Grocery Shopping Where I Work

On a recent snowy day with bitter-cold temperatures, my supervisor and I decided to make chili for the rest of the staff. We went down to the local store, which is less than a mile from where we work, and purchased the ingredients. While we were in the checkout line, my supervisor pointed to the locked display cases at the front of the store.

“Look at what’s behind glass at this store,” she said.

At first what I noticed were cigarettes, Sudafed and other things I see behind glass pretty much everywhere I go.

My supervisor gave me a look that told me my privileged life was getting in the way of seeing what she wanted me to see. “They got the stuff people are willing to go to jail for behind glass—medicine for their kids, that kind of thing.”

I looked more closely and also saw infant formula and diapers as well as medicine for diarrhea, headaches and upset stomachs.

My supervisor’s point was this: You work in this neighborhood, but you don’t live here. This is the store where many of the young people I work with shop, or at the very least, where their parents shop. These are the types of security measures they live with all the time.

My supervisor was right to point out the display case and help me better understand the community where my students live. Learning the dynamics of the neighborhood will help me better serve the kids because it will help me remember the conveniences I take for granted—such as being able to buy Tylenol without asking a clerk for assistance or being able to pick up formula for a friend and not have someone worry that I’m going to steal it. These are not experiences that my students or their parents have. For them, a trip to the grocery store includes reminders of the limitations to their agency, while I’ve been privileged enough to associate it with strolling down aisles and leisurely putting things into my shopping cart.

If you don’t live in a particular neighborhood, it’s easy to assume that the experiences of the folks in that community match the experiences you have. But often that is not the case. My cold walk that day reminded me of that. It also helped me better understand my students’ community—a critical step toward better understanding the experiences they bring to the learning environment.

Clift works in an after-school program for youth and is the communications intern for the Colorado Coalition Against Sexual Assault.