I know now, many months into this pandemic, that I took commuting for granted. Silent, uninterrupted, holy space to collect my thoughts or consider the world via a podcast. Yesterday, as I do once every two-ish weeks, I floated down Rock Creek Parkway to tour our new GW Hillel home at 2300 H Street. Each day I’m there, grateful for the silence that led me to the front door, I walk into a world of wonder. New lights shine. New doors are hung to hold the mundane tools of office life. New windows let the sun pour through.
After I walked through the space today, I was set to meet S. for socially distanced, masked-up coffee, a rare treat to do the core of work that I adore. But with hard hats in hand, a radical idea took hold. What if we chatted over coffee at the office?
The world is turned upside down. What was routine (commuting!) is now unique. What was unique (lounging around the house all day in sweatpants!) is now routine.
To build a new home has taken over ten years, three Executive Directors, three architectural firms, thousands of fundraising asks, and more sleepless nights than I’d care to count. And we’re not done yet.
But today, with a student on the roof, all of those data points took a moment to rest. I reveled in the magic of the mundane. We all thirst for a home. We all dream of a space where we can feel a sense of belonging. I’m grateful, in this topsy turvy world, that I have a job that helps me to create both.