Sometimes, a walk through rainwashed and puddle-ridden streets can lead to unexpected joys. When my friend Mariel asked if I’d like to accompany her on a field visit, to observe a youth organization at work, I agreed, welcoming the opportunity to go beyond the rarefied environs of Cambridge. Getting off the train at the somehow appropriately named station of Maverick in East Boston, Mariel and I traverse a couple of blocks (stopping briefly at a Brazilian Bakery to munch on small cheese buns— pao de queijo ) to reach a small doorway set into a brick building whose impassive exterior belies the youthful effervescence that bubbles through the moment you enter. Mariel tells me it is an old fire station that the organization has renovated. In the foyer two young men, engaged in a serious discussion, direct us to the basement. The path downstairs takes us first through a large room filled with instruments and a cluster of chairs, and laughing teenagers. “Brittany’s in the radio station,” ...
making sense of the everyday