I walk into Portside Pier, following the hostess in her all black uniform. She leads me and my family to a table with an outside view of the ocean. As my mother, grandma and I sit down, I look across the deck watching the sun’s glint reflect off the ocean. We order our drinks, food, and begin a conversation. The restaurant is packed, servers rush to retrieve meals and hosts lead another family to another ocean front view. As I sit there, I imagine my spot on the map (like a location on a GPS); my blue dot is placed within a fine-dining restaurant, amongst others who decided to spend their evening for quality and costly food. I look at all the tables around me and a thought occurs.

Across the world, a war strips the land of its identity and the people of its food. Across the city, a family goes to bed without a meal. Across the street, a person sleeps on the edge of a sidewalk, dreaming of a blanket and a bed. Everyday, the consequences of hunger and homelessness affect more and more people. And here I am, able to eat an oyster and watch the sun set. 

Now—to clarify any misunderstandings—I think it is wonderful that others, like myself,  can enjoy a meal in a nice place. I think it is wonderful that we get to eat with our friends and family. I think it is wonderful that we can watch a football game while enjoying a drink. But if we do all these things with no recognition of what we are doing, then there is no point in enjoying it. 

Within many cultures, religions, and communities, people express gratitude in different ways. Some may bless their meal. Others will pray for it. Or, like I do, say thank you to the cook or people who helped make it. These are small, and sometimes the only, acts of gratitude we speak during twenty-four hour time periods. 

So, sitting in a comfy booth, a sense of joy washes over me, but soon after, helplessness follows. As I take another bite of my fish sandwich, enjoying its flavor and texture, I feel satisfied and fulfilled. But, once again, I imagine the man I saw before entering the restaurant, sleeping on a curb and covering his face to avoid the streetlight. I ask myself: why do I get to eat in a fancy restaurant while he has to remain cold, hungry, and likely scared? 

Once again, to avoid any misunderstandings, I do not know this man’s history or choices in life; every person has their own circumstances that they must overcome. If it is or is not his fault for being there, I do not know. What I do know is that I am here and he is there. So, even though I thanked someone for my food, I would also like to recognize that I was served food. 

From this point I would like to recognize why I should be thankful and appreciate it. Taking things for granted is one of the most common phrases people use to acknowledge their recognition of privilege. Although, speaking the phrase of gratitude does not mean you actually recognize what you have and others do not. Feeling helpless can be changed. As a teenager still, I may not have the resources or power to change the circumstances of others, but planning to do so can still create change because even if you recognize or ignore these blatant occurrences, nothing will change the fact that they are still happening.

After leaving the restaurant, I get into my car and drive home. I pass more tents, and am thankful that I have a car to drive home in. I am thankful I have a home to drive to. And thankful I have a home within a relatively safe city. Our gratitude needs to extend beyond ourselves. If our gratitude can lead to recognition of others our empathy will continue to grow and ensue change. So, when I have the resources, I would like to give someone a blanket, water, or meal so they may have something to be grateful for.