MaryKate's PAH reflection: deliveries

On Saturday, the 10th of January, I helped Professor Bateman, along with two other students, deliver meals for Project Angel Heart. Upon arriving at PAH, Marysia, Jennifer and I were all given a brief introduction by the volunteer coordinator, Anne, on how to approach meal deliveries, and what not to do, and say (particularly, “How are you?”). Altogether, we delivered meals to 6 different clients, whose homes were all relatively close.

While still at DU, waiting with Marysia and Jennifer for Professor Bateman—the driver—to arrive, I anticipated a rather lengthy ordeal of driving all across town to deliver meals to a variety of individuals, living in homes that would automatically indicate their need for food assistance. I don’t know why I anticipated this, but now I would attribute such an ignorant assumption only to ignorance. For after completing the delivery run, and gaining even minimal knowledge of PAH and PAH clients, I realized how wrong I was in my assumptions.
Even upon arriving at Project Angel Heart, however, my anticipation was the same, though I was shown a detailed map of planned delivery routes and pick-up stations. While I was slightly awed by the scope of the delivery system, I did not yet recognize just how organized it was, and just how quickly we would complete the delivery route.

Only after we began driving to deliver meals did I realize how wrong my expectations were. Instead of driving up to homes in neighborhoods perpetually bowed under economic hardship, Professor Bateman drove the other students and me into neighborhoods very much like neighborhoods all across America, neighborhoods characterized only by their utter middle-class suburbia atmosphere, and because of the thorough planning of PAH, neighborhoods very close in range to another. Each house we drove by and delivered to seemed white or beige, and if they weren’t, I certainly can’t remember now. The neighborhoods blurred into one another, and as we drove along the gently curving roads—streets lined with young trees—seeing a bright blue home was almost a shock to behold amid all the uniformity. The driving did not take very long though.

For, I was wrong in my presumption of how time-consuming the deliveries would be, as well. Delivering the meals was not a lengthy affair at all, given that PAH is so very organized with their delivery routes, and handing a bag or two over a doorway takes all of five seconds. Yet, I can say I was right about one thing. The one anticipation I had that was not totally discredited within five minutes was the variety of people we handed the bags to.

A young African-American boy of around 12 received the first meal I delivered, and I still don’t know if it was for his mother or grandmother, but it was a woman. The second meal found a waiting client, an older woman, who readily answered the door. The third, and last, meal I delivered personally was greeted by 3 generations of a family: the meal was for a grandmother, but her daughter, granddaughter, and great-grandson (a baby) were the ones waiting for the meal. After ushering us through the brightly decorated home, the mother and granddaughter informed us the grandmother was waiting, but fell asleep. The variety of people answering the door not only confirmed my suspicion that PAH helped all sorts of ill people (young, old, and what not), but showed me that PAH also helps the family members of the ill, extending their influence even further into the community.