Conflicted

I haven’t told you about the day not long ago when I took the train and rode my bike to a warehouse where thousands of bikes were ready for pickup by kids in need (after having helped collect them a few months earlier). How I volunteered to teach some basic skills, and how I then watched these kids ride off into streets that are dangerous by design. How conflicted this makes me feel. How much work there is still to do close to home and around the world to make a measurable difference. How lives depend on it.