Strangers and Roads.

Posted by Tiff in Funschooling, Photography, stranger project | 2 comments

To begin to document the start of my trip, I’ll start at the very end…on a pier, beside a booth, talking with a man, in Santa Monica. Route 66 stretches from Santa Monica to Chicago…it’s had a few different ending points that defaulted to Santa Monica since everyone who had driven from as far away as Chicago kept on driving through to the coastal warmth of Southern California anyway!

While my trip started out as one big joyride, I quickly realized that it took on a kind of epic symbolism that I didn’t understand before heading out. The beautiful thing about traveling in any form is that often this is the case. One little trip to somewhere new and unexplored quickly turns into a discovery of things in our very own selves!

I was thinking about this as I finished my drive at the Pier in Santa Monica. I walked past a kiosk with Route 66 memorabilia and stopped. The only souvenirs I’d picked up on the entire trip were all the pictures and videos I took along the way, and since those were long gone thanks to the Pirates d’ Taos, I felt nostalgic to bring home something. A Route 66 T-shirt, or a pin, or a snowglobe, or even a shot glass (which matches well with the default name of the Tour d’ Awesome: Tour d’ Drunk).

I picked out my items and talked to the guy working the kiosk. I told him about my trip then asked if he’d been on the Route. He indicated that one of the prerequisites of working there was to drive at least part of 66 so he could talk to the custormers about it. I asked if he’d ever wanted to drive it before doing so, and he started telling me a little about his life.

Incidentally, something I love about talking with strangers is that if I am not in a hurry and in a mind to listen, I end up with a treasure of an experience. This was no different!

Here is A., and here is his part of a story:

He grew up in Egypt. He liked it alright, but was always bothered by the sameness of it. As in, everyone was expected to do the same things. Eat the same food, wear the same clothes, think the same thoughts, say the same words. He described growing up like going the wrong way on a one way street…everyone noticing, pointing, getting angry….and how he always felt he stood out by wanting to be different. He took his first trip to America when he was 19. He was supposed to stay with family friends, but when an emergency came up he ended up spending his time alone walking around New York City. “The thing about being here” he said, “is that everyone is driving their own way down the road. You can do anything here! Think what you want, eat what you want, be who you want. You can decide that. It’s so different in Egypt!” 3 years ago he got a work visa and flew to Los Angeles. Not knowing anyone didn’t make any difference at all. He then had odd jobs here and there, one of them working at the Route 66 kiosk. This led to him taking a trip on 66 and “discovering a real kind of America you don’t see in big cities”.

I asked him what his family thought of his adventures and individuality, and he paused for a while.

Then he started talking again. “I always listen to my family, my friends, my parents. Especially my mom. She wants me to be happy, and has a lot of advice for how I can be the happiest and do my best…” he hesitated, not wanting to sound critical but also wanting to speak his truth. “The thing is, though, they all only know THEIR way to be happy. Their advice is from THEIR experiences and is how to get what THEY want. The problem is, I’m not them, and they haven’t been or seen the things I have. They don’t know what advice is best for me, only I know that.”

And then he said something that resonated with me so completely I shivered, even in the 90 degree heatwave.

“It’s like driving on the Route. If that road is my life, then I’ve got to drive it. My friends, my family, my mom are all in Egypt. What do they know of a road in America? A road that’s not even a road anymore, actually. A road that isn’t even marked for most of the way. Have they been on the road? Can they help me take the right turns? Not really. In this way, their advice isn’t helpful. Their support and love is wonderful to get me along my path, but they have no advice that will help me stay on the path. For that, I have to make my decisions. I have to do what is right for me. Because they just can’t know this if they aren’t or have never been where I want to go.”

And aaaaaaaaaaah, that’s just it, isn’t it? That’s become my parenting philosophy, that’s a large reason why I love unschooling so much, and it’s been a huge part of my self discovery the past 2 years.

Everyone has their own road to follow in this life. And as much as I’d love to help lead and direct other people down their roads, I fall way short of really understanding what their best route is. Until recently, I didn’t even know what MY best route was! As a mom and a friend, the best I can do is offer support, love, encouragement, my own advice…and then sit back and watch them travel along. I hope I can help my kids find their inner strength, confidence, path. I don’t want my kids depending on other people to tell them what their route is. Even me. I might take them to the desert when really they’d be so much happier at the ocean. I know so many people who listen and follow other people’s advice and then end up at 30-something in a job they don’t like living in a house they don’t want with a lifestyle they didn’t actively choose. It’s not pretty.

I enjoyed the conversation with A. It mirrored perfectly what my own experience with Route 66 developed into…a visual allegory of pathways and choices and individuality and wandering and being lost and just life in general.

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