The value of breaking out

I could write 950 words worth of facts about Buffalo, but that would not do justice to the people whom I met and the places that I saw. Breakout is a valuable program, not because it gives students an opportunity to learn more facts, but because it allows us to give those facts faces. We spend so much of our time at Princeton sitting in libraries reading about what other people think of reality that it becomes easy for us to lose our own grip on reality.

My first big bonk on the head took place on Tuesday afternoon. My fellow participants and I drove to an abandoned Wonder Bread factory to meet Darnell Jackson, a gang-member-turned-community-activist. Darnell lives on the East Side of Buffalo, the most impoverished area of the city. More than half of the homes on the East Side have been abandoned. Many blocks look like New Orleans did in the wake of Hurricane Katrina or, as Darnell said, a war zone. The East Side has not been attacked by bombs or extreme weather — just years of economic decline.

Darnell wants to help the East Side turn around by building a community center in the Wonder Bread factory, complete with a flea market, a boxing school and branch locations for government offices. His plan is ambitious. If he were to walk into a Wilson School task force, we would all tell him that he was being unrealistic. However, seeing Darnell’s neighborhood made me realize that his ambition is important. When you grow up down the street from the hotspot for dumping dead bodies, you need someone with big dreams to inspire you to reach higher. Darnell has clearly motivated his neighbors to make life on the East Side better. He has organized block clubs near the factory. The streets where he has established these clubs are markedly cleaner and less crime-ridden than streets further from the factory.

The day after we met Darnell, the Breakout Buffalo crew and I helped a local nonprofit group, People United for Sustainable Housing, clean out an abandoned house. In between tearing up carpet with Burmese refugees and taking out trash, I was assigned to look for utility bills in a big box of documents. In the process, I learned fragments of a life story that belonged to a man called Clive. I have changed Clive’s name because rifling through his financial records, medical bills and love letters felt very intimate. I would feel guilty publishing his real name since I was never able to ask his family’s permission. I have no idea where they went after they abandoned their house.

Clive was a construction worker who suffered several injuries on the job. He spent much of the 1990s visiting doctors. He did not have a lot of money — the box included a handwritten eviction notice from his landlord and stubs from countless government social services. His love life was rocky. He got a divorce in 1980. However, many people cared about him. The box included a letter from a sweetheart who declared, “I will always love you ... Remember me my love. We used to spray each other in the backyard,” and asked, “Could we do it one more time for the good times?” There was also a photo of Clive’s grandson, a check from his daughter (which he never cashed) and a letter from his ex-wife celebrating their friendship. At the bottom of the box was a guestbook from his funeral. At least 250 people gathered to mourn his death. I have read about stories like Clive’s before — nice, hardworking people who fall into poverty because of illness. However, immersing myself in the artifacts of Clive’s life made his story feel more real.

The rest of my Breakout group will tell you that their “Aha!” moments came at other points in the week. If you ask all of us how to solve Buffalo’s poverty, we will advocate for different programs. I tend to salivate over grassroots, neighbor-run efforts, while my co-leader roots for well-oiled, regional social services machines. These differences of opinion are what make Breakout trips great. Exposing 12 students to living evidence of pressing social problems and then giving them one room to sleep in and two minivans where the only available music is a mix CD of Grammy winners from 2000 (nine words: “Baby One More Time” and “I Want It That Way”) inspires them to have great discussions, the kind that we are supposed to have in the middle of the night in our dorm rooms, but seldom do.

Breakout trips need to be part of the mainstream Princeton experience. They make a first-class education even better. To make that happen, more students will have to apply to participate and the University will have to give the program more resources — right now it is only possible to run between four and six trips each fall and spring break.

Haley White is a sophomore from Chatham, N.J. She can be reached at hewhite@princeton.edu.