On Sunday I went to get a tea at Square Books, a bookstore in the center of Oxford, Mississippi.  I had just come from the Sunday service at the First Baptist Church, in which its ‘revival week,’ with my friend and wonderful Oxford host, Owen.  It was possibly the most intense thing I’ve ever sat through; a visiting preacher yelling at the congregation about how they need to be saved, but how even if they are saved, they might still go to hell.  Anyway, I’m at this bookstore and start talking to the store clerk because there are Eudora Welty quotes all over the store.  Due to my curiosity about Eudora Welty, mostly because of our name similarities, I ask her the significance of Eudora in relation to Oxford (turns out the famous southern writer is from Jackson, MS which is just south of Oxford).   The clerk’s name is Susie, she’s a grad student in Southern Studies at Ole Miss and she’s very interested in pursuing a career in oral history.  We talk for about ten minutes, and when I mention that I’m trying to get to Memphis but that there’s no bus there and no one has responded to my rideshare plea, she offers to take me the hour and a half to Memphis.  

Today I took her up on that ride and we ended up making a wonderful connection; talking about Kickstarter has made her think about trying to pursue an oral history project and she inspired me to think about oral histories in my future as well.  She’s hoping to come to Maine this summer to visit, all based on a ten-minute conversation in a bookstore, a car ride and talking over lunch in a (wicked good) BBQ spot in Memphis.  It’s crazy how two people can be complete strangers one minute and thinking about traveling across the country to visit each other the next; all because of a split second decision to help someone.  

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I decided to go to Birmingham, Alabama last minute, while still in DC, to visit my friend Elizabeth-Anne.  Elizabeth-Anne is an amazing planner; so about ten minutes after she picked me up, we were at the Lovelady Center (TLC), a home for women struggling with addiction, homelessness or women who are court ordered there after or instead of prison.  The whole center is ‘Jesus based’ as our tour guide put it.  We attended a luncheon and a graduation ceremony for women who have completed the program. There was ‘praise dancing,’ interpretive, very emotional dancing to Christian pop songs.  I cried during the luncheon when the women lined up and walked, one by one, across the stage holding signs with how they saw themselves before TLC on one side and how they see themselves now.   We were introduced to a woman named Tracy, a staff member who went through a similar program herself years before.  After hearing about my project, she literally approached every woman she saw and asked if they had a story of kindness to share.  After the tenth or eleventh story, we were ready to head out, but it took us another hour or so to leave because she was so excited about getting me stories.  Three of the woman tried to save me while being interviewed, which was an interesting experience in itself, but even more bizarre knowing that I could listen to my awkward response later.  The kindness I saw between the women and between the women and the staff was incredible.  Not only did I get some amazing stories, but also the experience shifted my perception of a very religious group from one of uncertainty to one of respect.  While the women didn’t succeed in attempting to ‘save’ me, they did succeed in showing me that there are many, many ways to help people—and this one works incredibly well in creating a cohesive and loving community. 

I went into a pub a few blocks away from the capital building in DC and I felt like I was walking into a small appalachian town bar.  There were mounted deer heads, and the quintessential older drunk men arguing over my query as to the age of the 'Tune Inn,' (it's either 1947 or 1955).  There were political guys in suits at a booth, a young couple celebrating Valentines day and a very loud Scottish man in the corner having an argument with the bartender about the correct usage of the word 'pie.'  The bartender was an older woman, with a gray bun on top of her head and a Valentine's Day themed sweater, complete with heart-shaped pin.  When I told her about my project, she immediately went into a story about the day a few weeks ago when she, her daughter and her granddaughters were moving into a new house.  Her car stalled out and when her daughter attempted to get out and push two men appeared out of nowhere and moved her car into a parking lot.  Two days later, she was driving her daughter's car, when she stalled out at a stoplight, and she said that she stopped and prayed.  Immediately, a woman came out of nowhere and called a bunch of people over to push her out of the road.  She told me that her prayers are almost always answered immediately because she stays positive.  I suppose I've found the same thing is true on this trip, the moment I think I won't get a story, I won't have a place to stay or I can't get to where I want to go, a ride comes through. a couch opens up or I meet an interesting character to interview.  I think along with attempting to stay positive, people really do just want to help.  The only way this trip has worked so far is because of people's kindness, not my positivity; without the people I've met and stayed with along this trip, I'd be sitting on the side of the road somewhere.  

I left Portland for my adventure on Superbowl Sunday insanely excited about the trip, but doubting my ability to meet and interview lots of random people.  I was scared about interrupting people, being rude and generally freaking people out.  About twenty minutes into my very first bus ride of the trip headed to New York City, on the crowded upstairs of a Megabus, I met my first interviewee--an Israeli man who was also traveling the country.  After that I realized that all I have to do is talk to people.  This just kept happening during my five day--completely wild-- stay in New York, I’d start talking to someone at a diner in the Lower East Side or a bar in Bushwick or in the J train and almost everyone I’ve asked have opened up immediately and have been happy to share their story with me and my recorder.  New Yorkers may be pinned as cold, but I found that the only cold people were ones I hadn't talked to yet.  

I'm taking The Kindness Project on the road, traveling by bus and train, collecting stories.  I'm half planning this trip, half flying by the seat of my pants.  I'll be collecting stories from people I stay with, their acquaintances, people I meet on public transportation, diners, bars, parks, and anywhere else I might find myself.  

I've realized that so many of the stories I've heard about involve traveling.  This trip is two-fold; collecting stories from people and experiencing kindness first hand.  By putting myself out there, I'll be in a position to receive (and hopefully give) kindness freely.  

I'm about 4 days away from leaving for The Kindness Project trip.  My plans are incredibly flexible due to the inherent spontaneity of the project; I want to be able to change my plans on a dime.  If I'm sitting on a bus from Dallas to Tucson and meet an interesting person who insists I must go stay with his uncle in Colorado who has the best story from the Korean war, I'll have the ability to do so.  

This project is possible because of the generous contributions on Kickstarter from friends, family, friends of friends and people I've never met.  So, thank you and stay tuned!!  To see a list of all donors click here.  

Storyteller: Amy (4:47)
Amy shares her story of a simple act of kindness committed outside a homeless shelter in the middle of winter.

Storyteller: Kate Macko (5:53)
Kate shares her experience working at a tree stand in New York City

Storyteller: Ken Sebelin. (4:15)
A kind older gentleman and his refrigerator help Ken and his housemates 

Storyteller: Mary Harney (8:58)
Mary’s Chevy breaks down—the kindness that follows sparks her life philosophy of kindness

Storyteller: Jonathan Appleyard (10:30)
Jonathan Appleyard, an Episcopal Priest, makes a brief but deep connection with a stranger in an airport in Mumbai.