In which I skip out on Instagram and Facebook for the month of March but still allow myself the internet.

This glorious piece of gluten-free toast slathered with molasses and margarine is just one of the beautiful parts about Catapult Coffee & Studio this morning. I find out later that the shop is opened by a Jesus-based ministry, not my favorite, but then there is this: they are living what they preach, which is good, I suppose. I try not to let that bother me – they were so gracious, the coffee was so good, and molasses on toast is probably my new go-to breakfast.

Perhaps that’s just how they lure you in.

Anyway. We loved every part of the shop. The coffee, our toasty goodness, the people, the beautiful handmade tables and other crafts on offer. WWJD? Probably stay and drink his coffee and STFU.

As we were sipping hot coffee in the lovely shop, this man walked in.

The fact that he is a “peace officer” was even more poignant when I stupidly checked my email and saw the front-page article in The New York Times Magazine from Sunday that outlined exactly how (and why) Baltimore City is (possibly irredeemably) so violent and corrupt. Imagine if in Baltimore the police considered themselves keepers of the peace, wore the words like a badge on their chest – how would things be different?

It is a hard thing to reconcile, this magical affair I am having with Saint John and my feelings for Baltimore, the city I call home and the city that increasingly breaks my heart. It’s so easy to stay ignorant of the issues Baltimore faces – I could stay in the white L and ignore the black butterfly. So many people do, and the city makes it so easy for white folks to remain ignorant.

It’s nice to get away (and that’s what the Saint Johnners say – we are from “away”), but as always, wherever you go, there you are.