Behind the Shutters

Every other time I have taken the bus home from Champaign, I have looked at the houses and picked which one I wanted. I have considered them, critiqued them, and compared them, looking for the one that I would most like to own one day, to raise a family in.

But today, something strange and scary happened as I stared out the bus window at the rows of houses. I thought about who was inside them. I realized that, while I had been dreaming of something bigger and better, something comfortable, the perfect piece to add to the never-ending puzzle of my "perfect dream life", people were living their real lives. Inside those houses are real people, crying, making dinner, making love, arguing, sighing, and trying to survive in a world that hasn’t quite lived up to their own dreams.

Why do I spend my time dreaming when reality is right in front of me? Why do I dream up far-fetched situations of helping the world and making a difference, when the people that I can make a difference for are inside those houses that I am writing off as “too old”, “too small,” or “too blue?” That little white house with the yellow shutters? Inside is a woman who is fighting a brutal internal battle:

“Do I have this child, or do I abort it?”“Do I tell my boyfriend?”“It will ruin my life...it will ruin my dream.”

Why are we so preoccupied with dreams? Reality is right in front of us. If we just embraced it, we would see the people, not the shutters. We would see a baby as an opportunity for the biggest kind of love there is, not the shattering of a dream. Not a consequence of a mistake.

What are we working for if it’s not this?The dream?

This is it.

And we’re killing it.One baby at a time.

-Lindsay Pyrcik, SFLI Intern