Since taking over as Executive Director of Community Change Inc. in January 2014, one of the questions that I am constantly asked is how do I manage living in Maine while heading up at organization based in Boston? Such a commute might seem abnormal to many but based off the number of fellow commuters who ride the Amtrak Downeaster along with me, I am hardly alone.
There is actually a term for us: “extreme commuters”—folks whose daily commute is longer than 90 minutes each day. When the stars align and there are no delays, my commute is about 2 hours and 25 minutes each way. The stars rarely align and, as you can imagine, this winter my commute has been extremely interesting. However, I rarely commute daily at this point; instead, I go down and stay over for two to three nights depending on the week. Seeing as how I head up a small non-profit, my overnight accommodations are hardly plush. I generally alternate between the local youth hostel and an inexpensive “boutique” hotel.
Many may wonder, why ever would one subject themselves to such logistical challenges all for a job? Well, the work that we do at Community Change is not easily replicable—our focus is anti-racism specifically working with white people. The opportunity to head up such an organization in many ways was a dream come true despite the challenges of location. Yet I do work that matters deeply to me and while I most certainly could head up an organization closer to home as I did for many years, it would hardly be the same.
On a personal note though, this job and the extreme commute have been my pathway back to myself. Living and working in Maine had started to take a toll on me and. to be honest, I didn’t realize how much so until I took this job. I hadn’t realized that the cost of being the Black person in almost-always-white spaces had caused me to stuff myself down to the point that my true self was almost unrecognizable. To live in a space where one is always the “other” is hard because rarely can you be comfortable in your own skin. You are always in a flight-or-fight mode once you walk outside your house. Even doing “fun” things have the potential to spiral into something less than fun when you are the other.
Over the past 14 months as I have navigated learning not only my job and organization but the actual city of Boston, I have become very aware of how much lighter my spirit feels when I am out of Maine. Even in a city such as Boston that has its own complicated racial history that is not always favorable, to be able to navigate in spaces where I am not “The Other” is a breath of fresh hair. To go into meetings and see myself mirrored matters; to have other Black and brown-skinned directors to connect with has meant a level of support that I needed but could never obtain in Maine. To walk into my board meetings knowing that I don’t have to measure every word because to make a mistake will be an indictment on all Black bodies and “proof” that I don’t deserve my position is a huge weight off my shoulders. I could go on.
All this of course leads to the next question: Why are you still in Maine? Life is complicated and when you have kids and a house, as much as we might want to just up and leave, it can’t always happen at that time. If I had my way, I would have left Maine 14 months ago, yet at this stage in life, it’s a bad look to jump without planning ahead. So eventually I do hope to leave Maine and after 14 months of shuttling my stuff back and forth, I am taking the baby steps of laying down roots in Boston by looking to rent a room so that I can have a semi-permanent place to lay my head on the days that I am down there. (Hey, Boston folks, if you have a lead on a room on the T line, let me know…I am serious) Ideally, I can make the full leap by fall 2016 but that depends on pesky back-end and boring adult details like money, home repairs, money…you get the point.
So yes, I do have an abnormal commute and sometimes it can be tiring, but living and working in a place that feels like a prison cell is far worse. At least a few days a week, I get to feel fully alive and free before I have to go back to my cell called Maine where I wear my mask and feel my soul slowly oozing out.
7 thoughts on “My extreme commute or a taste of freedom”
I too enjoyed reading this post and I’m glad that despite the long commute, the experience has been so worth it. It’s interesting sometimes that something that could be a cause of great suffering on the one hand can be something you are okay dealing with because the blessings you’re receiving from it are so great. Here’s to hoping that you can get out of Maine sooner than later.
I enjoyed this post, especially reading about how you feel when you’re in Boston. I hope you and your family can move there soon. XO
I would say please make a commitment to leave as soon as you can. It’s hard for me as a Black woman but I dare say it might be even harder for Black men. It takes a toll on you to always walk around in “fight or flight” mode and it’s hard to put that down even at home.
I don’t know that anyone plans to stay here for years but life happens and the X year plan becomes a lot longer and for an interracial couple in such spaces it wears on you and at times starts to affect your relationship.
Your SO is making a difference, trust me on that. For many kids of color in Maine, they rarely see POC in professional roles, It was something I saw at my previous job where I had kids who couldn’t grasp the idea that Black people actually ran organizations. I know my 5 years in that job made a difference but it came at the expense of me and to a lesser degree my family. Most Black people and especially Black people in IRR’s that I have met in my 13 years here have a hard time, we rarely acknowledge this in public spaces but ask anyone privately and we all have stories. The looks, glares, passive aggressive crap in our work lives…it’s hard. Stay strong and support each other as best you can.
I thank you. Despite the difficulty you face and despite the fact that it’s certainly not your SO’s job to represent the race, I am very grateful that not only will those few black and brown kids who need someone like them, but that those white kids who are preparing for college and careers that may well have an effect on others’ lives, may learn something of importance that will make them more able to be decent people. I’m really sorry that it’s so hard on you, though, and hope you find some people during your time here that make you a little more comfortable.
I’ve lived in Maine for a goodly portion of my life, and I love it. Years back, I spent several years living in the South End of Boston, pre-gentrification, and I loved it there, too. I have to say that even I, a regular old white woman, do love it, and feel a sense of wonder and joy when I go back to town and see all those beautiful people.
I feel very much like your son in the city. For me, to be in a space where I can just be me the person who blends in is very freeing.
Hope you can find a soul filling comfortable place.
Thank you for your words. I see a similar thing in my young black son, when ever we venture into the city. He doesn’t care to do touristy things. Just ride the trains, walk the streets and see all the brown skin. He gets almost giddy before a peaceful calming joy washes over him. He loves not being ‘famous’ (his word)- where everyone knows him and looks at him. Thank you, its nice to know my observations are valid. (even if my actions to correct this are still weak)
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