The latest updates from Tortuga Central Command:
- We are now called "Tortuga House." I think it has a better ring to it. Also it goes along with the traditions that we draw from -- for example the Houses of Hospitality of the Catholic Worker Movement.
- This Saturday will be our first "official" outreach in Manhattan. Thanks to those who donated, your gifts will be utilized on what looks to be a rather cold, dreary day.
- We are now partnering/ volunteering with a great organization called Reaching Out Community Services in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. They have a food pantry serving the poor in south Brooklyn and also lots of insight into homeless outreach.
- We have been participating in the "Artists Group" at North Brooklyn Vineyard. This has been very fun so far, and is helping us to work out some ideas for our community gatherings as well. It is truly amazing to experience how just being around other creative people gets the stagnant juices flowing once again.
- An actual website for Tortuga House is under construction.
- We are considering having an informational gathering for anyone interested in being a part of Tortuga House, whether through the outreach or the community gatherings (which will start happening very soon). If you are reading this and would like to know more, leave a comment with your contact info, or send us an email.
That's it for today - we want to hear from you, please leave comments!!!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Tortuga, part 2
The last month has been an exercise in jumping into the whirlwind. Since the "idea" of the Totuga House/ Collective was brought into existance, we have experienced many ups and downs and felt the birth pangs of something new. Our core team of myself, Kelly and her father, Larry, have been spending many hours in our "upper room" (since it's on the third floor, duh) hashing out the various fears, dreams, plans and words that have been coming to us. We are attempting to wrestle the idea into shape, to give it legs and arms. So here is what we have so far:
- Our passion for outreach remains. The apparent lack of an obvious, cohesive street community (a la Portland) does not change this. We have been given a love that is irrational, a love for people who are at best ignored and at worst hated. And it is our calling to stay faithful to this, despite the "lack of effectiveness" assumed from an organizational standpoint. So we are currently purchasing supplies and scoping out locations for carrying out the outreach. Kelly has been particularly illuminated in this area, having seemingly random run-ins with various kids in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. The strange thing is that the people she has met are drawn to her -- as if she is communicating safety to them without speaking a word. I think that this is confirmation of what we know to be true. So on that note, donations of supplies (socks primarily, but other warm clothing items are good also) would be appreciated, and you can contact us if you are interested in doing so.
- Something we did not anticipate at all: For a while now, we have struggled with the "church vs. ministry" quandry. In other words, are we here to plant a church or are we here to start a ministry, non-profit or other somesuch organization? The answer has never been clear. We have always been hesitant to say we are "planting a church," just because we are trying so hard to see things from a Kingdom perspective, where "church" means the Body of Christ and not some particular, exclusive franchise that has no interaction with other franchises. But we have also seen a gap here in the city. And we have also remembered that we come from a specific tradition and background. We did not invent ourselves. Our tradition is very young and small as far as church history is concerned (it's been around for about 10 years, and we are one of 4 manifestations of it), but its distinctives have been so formative for us that we cannot simply discard it and move on to something else. It is the vision at the heart of this tradition that we bought into several years ago, and it is an integral part of what we have come here to continue.
The "tradition" of which I speak is the one of The Bridge in Portland, Oregon. This is the place where Home PDX came from, and as a result, 141-NYC as well. And we have begun to realize that without The Bridge, there would be no 141-NYC. It took a community, a church where freedom and safety were central, to incubate the ideas that would hatch into 141. We feel that a similar environment is necessary here in New York, to become a new incubator of transformative ministry. So, it is essential that we concentrate not just on the outreach, but on the community itself, to make the outreach possible. The two can be separated for organizational purposes, but in reality they are connected parts of one organism.
All this to say, we sincerely feel that "planting a church" is part of the reason that we are here. And so our focus splits into two separate but equally essential directions: the outreach and the church. I have been working a great deal lately on the connection between the two, and the mechanics of said connection, and I will post these later when I have more time. But for now, suffice it to say that we have announced our plans, and are working toward action steps to get them going.
The nitty-gritty then, or what I like to call "the details":
- The church is basically going to be a house church, for now. Which makes sense, considering that we currently have four members!
- Our core values, distinctives, etc, are currently in the process of development. But once again, we feel that we are aligned with a tradition started by The Bridge in Portland.
- We are not looking to steal members from established churches. We are looking for people who do not fit into any established church.
- The outreach is not a ministry of the church, in the classic sense (i.e, something that certain people in the church "do"). It is an integral, essential part of the way of life of the community.
- Our official start/ launch date is TBA. We have a lot of things going on right now. I have a hunch it will happen fairly soon, though.
Those of you who read this blog, I would welcome your comments and suggestions. I would also request your prayers, for wisdom and peace as we continue to wrestle.
- Our passion for outreach remains. The apparent lack of an obvious, cohesive street community (a la Portland) does not change this. We have been given a love that is irrational, a love for people who are at best ignored and at worst hated. And it is our calling to stay faithful to this, despite the "lack of effectiveness" assumed from an organizational standpoint. So we are currently purchasing supplies and scoping out locations for carrying out the outreach. Kelly has been particularly illuminated in this area, having seemingly random run-ins with various kids in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. The strange thing is that the people she has met are drawn to her -- as if she is communicating safety to them without speaking a word. I think that this is confirmation of what we know to be true. So on that note, donations of supplies (socks primarily, but other warm clothing items are good also) would be appreciated, and you can contact us if you are interested in doing so.
- Something we did not anticipate at all: For a while now, we have struggled with the "church vs. ministry" quandry. In other words, are we here to plant a church or are we here to start a ministry, non-profit or other somesuch organization? The answer has never been clear. We have always been hesitant to say we are "planting a church," just because we are trying so hard to see things from a Kingdom perspective, where "church" means the Body of Christ and not some particular, exclusive franchise that has no interaction with other franchises. But we have also seen a gap here in the city. And we have also remembered that we come from a specific tradition and background. We did not invent ourselves. Our tradition is very young and small as far as church history is concerned (it's been around for about 10 years, and we are one of 4 manifestations of it), but its distinctives have been so formative for us that we cannot simply discard it and move on to something else. It is the vision at the heart of this tradition that we bought into several years ago, and it is an integral part of what we have come here to continue.
The "tradition" of which I speak is the one of The Bridge in Portland, Oregon. This is the place where Home PDX came from, and as a result, 141-NYC as well. And we have begun to realize that without The Bridge, there would be no 141-NYC. It took a community, a church where freedom and safety were central, to incubate the ideas that would hatch into 141. We feel that a similar environment is necessary here in New York, to become a new incubator of transformative ministry. So, it is essential that we concentrate not just on the outreach, but on the community itself, to make the outreach possible. The two can be separated for organizational purposes, but in reality they are connected parts of one organism.
All this to say, we sincerely feel that "planting a church" is part of the reason that we are here. And so our focus splits into two separate but equally essential directions: the outreach and the church. I have been working a great deal lately on the connection between the two, and the mechanics of said connection, and I will post these later when I have more time. But for now, suffice it to say that we have announced our plans, and are working toward action steps to get them going.
The nitty-gritty then, or what I like to call "the details":
- The church is basically going to be a house church, for now. Which makes sense, considering that we currently have four members!
- Our core values, distinctives, etc, are currently in the process of development. But once again, we feel that we are aligned with a tradition started by The Bridge in Portland.
- We are not looking to steal members from established churches. We are looking for people who do not fit into any established church.
- The outreach is not a ministry of the church, in the classic sense (i.e, something that certain people in the church "do"). It is an integral, essential part of the way of life of the community.
- Our official start/ launch date is TBA. We have a lot of things going on right now. I have a hunch it will happen fairly soon, though.
Those of you who read this blog, I would welcome your comments and suggestions. I would also request your prayers, for wisdom and peace as we continue to wrestle.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Tortuga
I am starting to realize, from the datelines on my previous posts, that Friday must be "blog day." Friday, for me, is the day when I splurge just a little to celebrate the upcoming Sabbath. It is a day of anticipation, and for some reason it is a day where the creativity and introspective tendencies flow well. On Friday mornings, I make sure to leave the house a little early and take the R train all the way in to the City Hall stop. I then head over to my newly-discovered "hipster" coffee shop on Chambers Street. Now I certainly don't object to cheap bodega coffee, but sometimes a expat Northwesterner needs to step up the coffee pursuit just a notch, and Starbucks is a pretty poor option. So you can imagine how delighted I was to find a little slice of Portland in Tribeca, right on my way to work. This shop has pretty good coffee, excellent bagels, pleasant music, minimalist decor with local art on the walls, and baristas that look like members of The Decemberists. So in other words, it is PDX transplanted into NYC. They have become my Friday ritual for a nice big coffee and a drippy-hot toasted wheat bagel with butter, which I consume with decadent pleasure while hacking out my semi-weekly blog update. So there you have it folks, a behind-the-scenes look at the life of a pop star. I'm sure you were all wondering and discussing various theories as to why the blogs come only on Fridays, and now you know.
In any event, this entry is not only a restaurant review or a day in the life, but it is also an update. Things are moving in many interesting directions for us. Our big announcement is that we are finally going to start doing a "thing," and I use such ambiguous terminology because I have a hard time figuring out exactly what it is. But maybe it's best that we don't obsess over naming things anyway, because once we name something it loses a good portion of its vitality. Anyway, the "thing" in question has a very simple name:
The Tortuga Collective
Ok, so what the heck is a torutga and in what way is it collective? Well, tortuga is Spanish for turtle, but we are not really about turtles, although the collective part is accurate enough. Actually I'd rather wait to go into the name choice in detail and just give a brief overview of what The Tortuga Collective is (at this point in time):
- A group of people who are gathered together with the intention of knowing God better and loving people face to face
- A group of ordinary musicians, artists, and radicals (thanks Shannon!) who want to mutually support and encourage each other
- A group of dreamers and visionaries who recognize that "how it is" is not "how it is supposed to be."
(Please note that these are not carefully thought-out elements of a mission statement or anything of that nature, but rather just random thoughts from the top of my head)
Right now, the Tortuga Collective is going to be four people who live together, have a sort-of order of life based around worship and prayer, and serve together wherever we are called. It is more than that, but for today I just want to give you a taste. We will be meeting over the next few weeks to iron out things like directives and mission statements, and I will be sure to post those things here as soon as they are available. So for now, I will leave you scratching your head and wondering what I'm talking about, but at least you now know what I'm eating and drinking on Friday mornings.
Love,
Brian
In any event, this entry is not only a restaurant review or a day in the life, but it is also an update. Things are moving in many interesting directions for us. Our big announcement is that we are finally going to start doing a "thing," and I use such ambiguous terminology because I have a hard time figuring out exactly what it is. But maybe it's best that we don't obsess over naming things anyway, because once we name something it loses a good portion of its vitality. Anyway, the "thing" in question has a very simple name:
The Tortuga Collective
Ok, so what the heck is a torutga and in what way is it collective? Well, tortuga is Spanish for turtle, but we are not really about turtles, although the collective part is accurate enough. Actually I'd rather wait to go into the name choice in detail and just give a brief overview of what The Tortuga Collective is (at this point in time):
- A group of people who are gathered together with the intention of knowing God better and loving people face to face
- A group of ordinary musicians, artists, and radicals (thanks Shannon!) who want to mutually support and encourage each other
- A group of dreamers and visionaries who recognize that "how it is" is not "how it is supposed to be."
(Please note that these are not carefully thought-out elements of a mission statement or anything of that nature, but rather just random thoughts from the top of my head)
Right now, the Tortuga Collective is going to be four people who live together, have a sort-of order of life based around worship and prayer, and serve together wherever we are called. It is more than that, but for today I just want to give you a taste. We will be meeting over the next few weeks to iron out things like directives and mission statements, and I will be sure to post those things here as soon as they are available. So for now, I will leave you scratching your head and wondering what I'm talking about, but at least you now know what I'm eating and drinking on Friday mornings.
Love,
Brian
Friday, January 4, 2008
Props
http://www.oregonlive.com/O/relationships/index.ssf?/base/living/1194562516122040.xml&coll=7
This is coming very late, but better late than never. Above is a link to a story that appeared a few months ago in the Portland Oregonian about Home PDX, the church that we were a part of before we came to New York. They are our "mother church," to utilize a very tired Christianese term, although we are really more like siblings than children with the church that we helped start. I am putting this link on here because I want people to know about Home, and to see that it is possible to take a very simple point (i.e, loving people face to face) and turn it into a successful, beautiful thing. The heart of Home PDX is identical to the heart of 141-NYC, mainly because we are cut from the same cloth. The challenge for us is to stay faithful to the heart while avoiding the temptation to duplicate the specifics, because those specifics can only exist in their unique context. You cannot put Home PDX in the copy machine and expect it to fly somewhere else. God forbid, because if that were the case, then Home PDX would just be an institution, a system, or an ideology rather than a way of life.
I also want to point out that we just added a new link, for http://www.crossweave.org. This is the website for Crossweave in San Marcos, California, another wonderful group of people who have loved and influenced us greatly.
This is coming very late, but better late than never. Above is a link to a story that appeared a few months ago in the Portland Oregonian about Home PDX, the church that we were a part of before we came to New York. They are our "mother church," to utilize a very tired Christianese term, although we are really more like siblings than children with the church that we helped start. I am putting this link on here because I want people to know about Home, and to see that it is possible to take a very simple point (i.e, loving people face to face) and turn it into a successful, beautiful thing. The heart of Home PDX is identical to the heart of 141-NYC, mainly because we are cut from the same cloth. The challenge for us is to stay faithful to the heart while avoiding the temptation to duplicate the specifics, because those specifics can only exist in their unique context. You cannot put Home PDX in the copy machine and expect it to fly somewhere else. God forbid, because if that were the case, then Home PDX would just be an institution, a system, or an ideology rather than a way of life.
I also want to point out that we just added a new link, for http://www.crossweave.org. This is the website for Crossweave in San Marcos, California, another wonderful group of people who have loved and influenced us greatly.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Celebration of smallness
Today is the last day of work before Christmas for many of us here in the city. It is a cold, windy and grey day, and the streets are hardly buzzing with anticipation as they have been over the past few weeks. Oh, I'm sure the tourists are still in full mob-mode in Midtown and Union Square (where I unfortunately must travel later today to do some last- minute shopping!), but for me, the day represents less of a giddy stepping-off into celebration than a welcome rest from a long and difficult stretch of the journey. A sabbath rest, if you will.
On Sunday night we fly back to San Diego for a week, to stay at my parents' house for Christmas. We are looking forward to spending time with everyone and relaxing. New York must be escaped every now and then so that the sense of wonder remains fresh and constant. Refreshed, we plan to return and move into the next phase of this strange operation called 141-NYC.
What is that phase, you may ask? Well, the primary thing is to move forward into action, but action in a very small and personal sense. We have learned that the city defies any attempt to create static models for minstry, and it resists any attempt to build systems to bring healing. The sheer complexity of masses of human life is one thing; the fact that the city is a beast that is more than the sum of its parts is another. So instead of systems, we look for praxis and learning. We engage, step out into the flow of life and allow it to change us while remaining within our perspective. This is referred to by Miroslav Volf as "double-vision." It involves a willingness to embrace the Other, but without denying our identity (which is of course, defined entirely by the cross).
Practically, this means "getting out there" no matter what the odds or appearances say. After all, there are thousands upon thousands of homeless young people in this city, but I defy anyone to point them out among the crowds. In Portland, we talked about our friends and said that they were invisible to the rest of society, and through love they became visible. When we said "invisible," we were speaking figuratively of course. Squatters and travelers are quite easy to see in Portland. In New York, they are literally and physically invisible. They have to be, because in a city of conspicuous wealth and consumption, symbols of poverty and rejection are not allowed. Or if they are allowed, they are allowed as a token bit of scenery to add to the "urban ambiance" of the city.
So being there, for us, means being aware. It means having clarity of vision (in a very real sense). It means seeing peoples' hearts as we pass by, instead of their outer disguises. I believe that God has been training us to do this for the past five months. He has been teaching us that New York is a city with many layers, and one cannot simply remain on the surface if one wants to truly live here with significance. We have a little bit of money to get started, all that we need right now, because our plan is to ring in the new year in a celebration of smallness. We will be looking for team members, brothers and sisters, fellow travelers who like the idea of starting small and with as little fanfare as possible. We will free the captives, but only one at a time. Sorry if that seems anticlimactic, but like a grey, crappy day right before Christmas, it's perfect for New York.
On Sunday night we fly back to San Diego for a week, to stay at my parents' house for Christmas. We are looking forward to spending time with everyone and relaxing. New York must be escaped every now and then so that the sense of wonder remains fresh and constant. Refreshed, we plan to return and move into the next phase of this strange operation called 141-NYC.
What is that phase, you may ask? Well, the primary thing is to move forward into action, but action in a very small and personal sense. We have learned that the city defies any attempt to create static models for minstry, and it resists any attempt to build systems to bring healing. The sheer complexity of masses of human life is one thing; the fact that the city is a beast that is more than the sum of its parts is another. So instead of systems, we look for praxis and learning. We engage, step out into the flow of life and allow it to change us while remaining within our perspective. This is referred to by Miroslav Volf as "double-vision." It involves a willingness to embrace the Other, but without denying our identity (which is of course, defined entirely by the cross).
Practically, this means "getting out there" no matter what the odds or appearances say. After all, there are thousands upon thousands of homeless young people in this city, but I defy anyone to point them out among the crowds. In Portland, we talked about our friends and said that they were invisible to the rest of society, and through love they became visible. When we said "invisible," we were speaking figuratively of course. Squatters and travelers are quite easy to see in Portland. In New York, they are literally and physically invisible. They have to be, because in a city of conspicuous wealth and consumption, symbols of poverty and rejection are not allowed. Or if they are allowed, they are allowed as a token bit of scenery to add to the "urban ambiance" of the city.
So being there, for us, means being aware. It means having clarity of vision (in a very real sense). It means seeing peoples' hearts as we pass by, instead of their outer disguises. I believe that God has been training us to do this for the past five months. He has been teaching us that New York is a city with many layers, and one cannot simply remain on the surface if one wants to truly live here with significance. We have a little bit of money to get started, all that we need right now, because our plan is to ring in the new year in a celebration of smallness. We will be looking for team members, brothers and sisters, fellow travelers who like the idea of starting small and with as little fanfare as possible. We will free the captives, but only one at a time. Sorry if that seems anticlimactic, but like a grey, crappy day right before Christmas, it's perfect for New York.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Advent
It goes without saying, or even needing to be said, that we have not posted in quite some time. I have been blogging on and off for various sites over the past four years or so, and I can tell you that this is a recurring pattern for me. Great fits of activity, insights and poetry are often followed by long doldrums. It is not for the lack of motivation. I think about blogging almost every day. It may be that, for me, blogging is a less-than-ideal form of communication. My personality is such that I want things to come out polished and well thought out, and blogging is much more conducive to immediacy. Kelly, of course, is much better at blogging, and maintains a fairly frequently updated blog on her Myspace page. Anything that has appeared on this site has come from said page. But since I am the self-appointed keeper of the "organizational" (i.e. 141-NYC, whatever that means on any given day), you can be sure that frequency may be an issue from time to time.
That said, I digress, but not entirely, to my subject. We have been attending a Lutheran church for the past few weeks, and it has been quite a different experience for us. It is not so much new for me as a return to the past, as I grew up in the Lutheran church and attended a Lutheran elementary school. I have found the return somewhat refreshing. For Kelly and Luke it is a new thing altogether. Kelly has found, however, that the more structured, tradition-based and liturgical element has significance to her that she had been missing in the non-denominational settings of our past. One of those elements that seems especially relevant to our situation now is the liturgical calendar.
Following the church calendar helps us to realize that seasons are both appropriate and intentional. There are times for celebration, for mourning, and for waiting. There are times for great bustles and bursts of activity, but there are also times of quiet introspection, and all of these are divinely ordained; or at least, they are ok to practice! So we don't have to feel useless or incompetent because we cannot keep up with the manic pace of modern ministry that demands demonstrable results at all times. I realize this is not a new or revolutionary discovery, that I am in a sense discovering something simple that has been there all along. But like Chesterton said, in trying to be the best heretic I could be I ended up finding I was orthodox all along (or something to that effect).
The current season, Advent, means that now is a time for waiting, watching and preparing. It is a time for reflecting on where we are, and looking to the future. The dark blues of Advent and the candles add to the introspective mood. This mood is only heightened by the chill of late fall that quiets the city for brief moments on evening walks by the bay. It is as though our Creator has infused this season with physical properties intended to turn the mind away from activity and in to contemplation. Yes, it is the hectic pre-Christmas season, but the cold air of anticipation also heightens our senses and causes us to pause, to hear the echoes of footsteps on frigid sidewalks, and to remember the places we have journeyed from and journeys awaiting us without roadmaps or directions.
That said, I digress, but not entirely, to my subject. We have been attending a Lutheran church for the past few weeks, and it has been quite a different experience for us. It is not so much new for me as a return to the past, as I grew up in the Lutheran church and attended a Lutheran elementary school. I have found the return somewhat refreshing. For Kelly and Luke it is a new thing altogether. Kelly has found, however, that the more structured, tradition-based and liturgical element has significance to her that she had been missing in the non-denominational settings of our past. One of those elements that seems especially relevant to our situation now is the liturgical calendar.
Following the church calendar helps us to realize that seasons are both appropriate and intentional. There are times for celebration, for mourning, and for waiting. There are times for great bustles and bursts of activity, but there are also times of quiet introspection, and all of these are divinely ordained; or at least, they are ok to practice! So we don't have to feel useless or incompetent because we cannot keep up with the manic pace of modern ministry that demands demonstrable results at all times. I realize this is not a new or revolutionary discovery, that I am in a sense discovering something simple that has been there all along. But like Chesterton said, in trying to be the best heretic I could be I ended up finding I was orthodox all along (or something to that effect).
The current season, Advent, means that now is a time for waiting, watching and preparing. It is a time for reflecting on where we are, and looking to the future. The dark blues of Advent and the candles add to the introspective mood. This mood is only heightened by the chill of late fall that quiets the city for brief moments on evening walks by the bay. It is as though our Creator has infused this season with physical properties intended to turn the mind away from activity and in to contemplation. Yes, it is the hectic pre-Christmas season, but the cold air of anticipation also heightens our senses and causes us to pause, to hear the echoes of footsteps on frigid sidewalks, and to remember the places we have journeyed from and journeys awaiting us without roadmaps or directions.
Monday, October 1, 2007
The city of lonely hearts
The question still remains for us about ministry. Why New York? Obviously we have been called here, as we work through our struggles and emerge scathed yet victorious. The tests of our faith have been significant and continue to come on a nearly daily basis. Yet I cannot seem to shake the very vague and very real sense of mission, a mission to the city as a whole and not only an isolated demographic or people group.
I was on one of those tour boats the other day with my parents. We were cruising slowly along the East River, admiring the golden towers of downtown and the graceful aches of the bridges on a glorious fall afternoon. Behind me, I heard someone comment, "The city of lonely hearts." Such a true statement; a place so massive and opulent that it doesn't need people. The noise of progress, of money, fame, or any of a variety of forces drowns out the voice of the individual. New York appears to be the city of the victorious, the heroes who get tickertape parades down the canyons of Broadway. But in reality New York is the city of the underdogs. It is the city of those who try and fail, who hide in the shadows, who maintain mere existence from the table-scraps of the empire. They are everywhere, and they are not only dressed in rags or pushing shopping carts. They are also wearing business suits and scrurrying out of the Broad Street station. They are dressed in their best for a Friday night gallery opening on 24th Street. They are selling you lottery tickets and a Budweiser tallboy with a warm grin at the corner bodega. They will tell you their story if you give them the slightest moment, and the cramped N train car at rush hour is seething with stories that are never told. So perhaps we have been called just to be the people that will stop and listen.
I was on one of those tour boats the other day with my parents. We were cruising slowly along the East River, admiring the golden towers of downtown and the graceful aches of the bridges on a glorious fall afternoon. Behind me, I heard someone comment, "The city of lonely hearts." Such a true statement; a place so massive and opulent that it doesn't need people. The noise of progress, of money, fame, or any of a variety of forces drowns out the voice of the individual. New York appears to be the city of the victorious, the heroes who get tickertape parades down the canyons of Broadway. But in reality New York is the city of the underdogs. It is the city of those who try and fail, who hide in the shadows, who maintain mere existence from the table-scraps of the empire. They are everywhere, and they are not only dressed in rags or pushing shopping carts. They are also wearing business suits and scrurrying out of the Broad Street station. They are dressed in their best for a Friday night gallery opening on 24th Street. They are selling you lottery tickets and a Budweiser tallboy with a warm grin at the corner bodega. They will tell you their story if you give them the slightest moment, and the cramped N train car at rush hour is seething with stories that are never told. So perhaps we have been called just to be the people that will stop and listen.
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