Rewind ten years or so. It's Halloween, and
the sounds of screeching children, myself included, screaming "trick-or-treat,"
to every grown up or door in the vicinity. My arms practically go limp after
hour two or three hours of this nature, running around the neighborhood
screaming "trick-or-treat" all the while receiving sweet
gratification. Then its a few years later, and suddenly as I walk up to houses
in my Alice in Wonderland dress with my squad of about 17 other 13 year olds,
the gratification I receive as a result of my "trick or treat" is
accompanied by slightly concerned looks questioning my social competency,
"aren't you too old for this?"
It did not come as a surprise to me,
therefore, that I was greeted with some reluctance every time I was greeted
with an up and down look of confusion as my Spokane neighbors opened the door
to find a fully grown 19 year old standing at their door decked out head-to-toe
in a minion onesie this Halloween. Yes, it was awkward. But when one of my
group members or I mentioned that we were trick-or-treating for canned foods
for Campus Kitchen, the awkward tension melted into kindness. Not one house
that opened the door to my group and let us walk away empty handed. One woman
respectfully listened to my little speech about how we were trick-or-treating
for cans and when I was finished, she practically threw the candy bowl at me
with enthusiasm and told me that we "needed to take candy because we were
her first trick-or-treaters all night." She then proceeded to make more
than one trip to her pantry giving us all of the cans that she could carry.
Another family allowed me to stand in their doorway and pet their puppy as they
gathered cans for Campus Kitchen.
The kindness of the Spokane community returned
Halloween to its childhood glory in my mind. Trick-or-treating is a way for a
community to connect, and open their doors to each other and share. It seems
more fun when those community members at your door are three feet tall and
decked out in costume, and a candy the size of a penny gives them the
satisfaction of wining the lottery, but it was a lot of fun to witness a more
humbling side of Halloween. When people realized that a group of Gonzaga
students chose to trick-or-treat for cans on the biggest party night of the
year, it was immensely satisfying to witness their pleasant surprise.
I witnessed many dramatic perspective changes as people admitted
to me, "I thought you were just hitting up houses for candy on the way to
the bars," which (side note) I found amusing at the thought of me showing
up to a bar in a minion onesie. As people realized that we were
trick-or-treating for food for the hungry, they were excited to help. My theory
is that they were surprised to find college students going out of their way on
one of the biggest party nights of the year to make the Holliday something more
than satisfying a craving (or cravings). I felt proud to represent
Gonzaga, and college students in general as more than the social stigmas make
us out to be. And I was proud to represent Setons as my group members looked up
to me and gave me a leadership role that threw me out of my comfort zone. I
knew as a leader I had to be the one to step up and do the talking on behalf of
the group if no one else was willing. My group seemed shy at first to ask
people for cans, but then they all got excited when they realized how rewarding
it was to witness the change of hearts of many of the community members
first-hand.
 |
| Ciara and Spike before the rally at Crosby! |
- Ciara Costanzo
Seton of Gonzaga
Comments
Post a Comment