A few years ago, my family decided to sponsor the education of a girl through our church. This girl and her mother had recently immigrated to center city Philadelphia, where the public schools are practically a warzone. With the help of my family, this girl would be able to attend a private school in hopes of receiving a better, and safer, education.

After a few months, my parents decided that we would visit the family. Having grown up visiting Philadelphia fairly regularly, I had been taught how to safely navigate and avoid certain neighborhoods. But this time there was no avoiding it; we would be going right into the heart of one of the worst neighborhoods in Philadelphia. As we drove further into the city, I saw why we had avoided these neighborhoods for so long. I had never before seen such destruction and devastation in my entire life, and I was nearly brought to tears by it. The most terrifying thing that I saw were opioid addicts that were living under a bridge. The nun from my church that was with us told my family that they had taken over that street and that children had to walk under this bridge every day in order to get to school. I was terrified and heartbroken. How could I be so fortunate and have the ability to drive my own car to school every day? How could any child be expected to survive here?

I will admit that I was scared when we finally pulled up to the family’s house. The house was just as decrepit as any other: bars on the windows with trash littering the yard and sidewalk. My dad later told me that he was also afraid as we stepped out of the car and that he did not know if bringing my brother and me to this neighborhood was the right thing to do. But as we knocked on the door, we were immediately greeted by a number of warm, friendly faces. The fact that my family had taken time out of our week to come to their home brought such joy to them and it was an incredibly humbling experience for me. Even though scraping together enough money for one meal a day was a challenge for the family, they had prepared food for us. This was my favorite part of the day; we got to sit, eat, talk and laugh with them. In that moment, I had forgotten all about my earlier fears.

After spending the day with the family and observing the rest of the neighborhood, I realized that most of the people that I saw that day were not the cause of any of the problems in the neighborhood. They were the victims. I realized that as we were trying to avoid the bad people and the places that made us uncomfortable or scared, we were also avoiding the good people and avoiding getting them out of the neighborhoods we try our best never to go into. My perspective on the world was changed that day. There is nothing in my life that I can take for granted. The fear that I felt walking from the safety of my car to the house is a feeling that never goes away for some people, and this is something that needs to be talked and worried about more. We cannot let the few people who make these neighborhoods unsafe scare us away from helping all of the good people who desperately need it.