Perpspective

I was in the kitchen of Mrs. Raines' home, cleaning the layers of dirt off of her kitchen cabinet and I began to wonder how it got there and why it remained. Piles of her life were scattered throughout her home, we couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Walking through the kitchen to the bathroom, we passed through her bedroom. Piles of clothes lay on the floor, and her doll collection bordered the room. It was not a lack of belongings that haunted us, it was the abundant mess of chipped representations of memories. We felt like we were seeing her life in disorder, and our muddy work boots seemed too heavy in her fragile home.

Moving outdoors, painting was refreshing. Her home seems to be a place of transition with people constantly entering in and out. The tangibility of the paint seemed to stabilize and bring to life the contours of her weathered home. There was a powerful feeling in our work, as if our hands could stop the decaying of her home, and as if we could compensate for her physical inability and lack of resources. As walls were scrubbed clean and painted, we gained hope, because we felt like we were doing the right thing. Yet, it occurred to us that the definition of "hopeful" was subjective. Perhaps the fresh coat of paint on her walls appeared less bright to her eyes than it did to ours. The concept of place shaping perspective hit us hard as we overheard a conversation with a local later in the day.

At our visit to a schoolhouse in a Coal Camp at Beckley Exhibition, an employee talked to one of the chaperones about her views on women working in the coalmines. She discussed a female friend who works as a miner and although she recognizes the intensity of the work, she said she believes it is a man's job. In the same way she described the phenomenon of gender influencing job opportunity, we observed how residence can define perspective.

Alexis Cheney '11 and Keely Hurd '11