Well, here we are and it's mid-October. I seem to remember about 6 months ago I promised I would update this blog more often . . . so much for that. As a fall resolution, I'm going to attempt to do just that (which may be easier given our closer proximity to the library this year).
So, for anyone who may not know I decided to do an additional year of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, this time in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I am working at a non-profit Immigrant Law Center and have been exploring my job for the past 2 months. Like most JV positions, I wear many hats at the office. The part of my job that I enjoy doing the most is legal work. I've been trained in how to do intakes and forms for Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals(DACA)and I spend at least a couple of hours a week doing intakes for these as well as helping put together people's cases (organizing paperwork, making follow up phone calls, putting together cover letters, etc.) This has been a great taste into the legal world, although it can be scary at the same time. I've begun playing with the idea of either law school or becoming a paralegal for a little over a month now, something which would have been entirely out of the question before this year.
The other part of my job is case management and resource connection for the Pathways program. As part of this I have a caseload of around 15 individuals who have some sort of social needs (medical debt, experiencing homelessness, difficulty paying the bills etc.). Many of them also struggle with communicating in English and the challenges that the system poses, even in Albuquerque where many people and agencies are Spanish-speaking. I've enjoyed the opportunity to use my Spanish skills with my clients even though this is the part of my job that I struggle with the most.
It's certainly been a 180 degree turn from helping with the after-school program last year and though I miss the kids I worked with and Boyle Heights dearly this is where I believe I'm needed right now.
The other huge piece of the JV experience is of course community. A lot has happened in 2 months, sometimes it seems like we've been living with each other for 2 days, others it seems like 20 years. Like my job, my living situation has also been a complete 180 from last year. Instead of the comfortable ratio of 4 girls to 2 guys, I've found myself in a 4:2 minority in the only community in Albuquerque. I was hesitant (some might even say panicked) at this idea just 3 months ago when I got my list of housemates, but we clicked very early on. I've been blessed to live with 4 of the most accepting and laid back guys on the planet: Alex, Anthony, Ben and Chris.
Chris and I worked together for about the 1st month and a half of the program until he switched jobs. He's a fellow guitar player and Spanish speaker and lover of the outdoors.
Ben (Linus) is a splendid cook with a talent for throwing spices together. He's one of the easiest people to get along with on the face of the planet and has the energy of a five year old kid when he gets excited about something.
Anthony (or Ant as we call him) is my go-to for hugs. He's got a contageous joy for life and it our schedules generally work out so I see him in the morning before I take off. He's up for whatever adventure we've got planned and always has a great sense of humor about it.
Alex is a city boy at heart, so he keeps us doing things in Albuquerque. He's welcoming and has a generous heart and a genuine desire to make people happy.
Amanda, the only other girl in the house, is awesome. I don't know how I would survive without her. A fellow nerd and a flute player, one of my favorite activities this year has been playing music with her at the 5:00 Mass across the street. She also bakes a mean apple pie. :)
Well, in short that's the 1st 2 months in ABQ, famous for Breaking Bad, Green Chili and a small town feel. I'll try to keep posting more often.
Que le vaya bien.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
January, February 2013
Well, here we are again, 2 months after I'm pretty sure I said I would be writing every month. Well, several things have happened since then and the last 2 months have kept me very much on my toes. The major event was on January 6th I became a victim of crime. I was walking to church in broad daylight by myself, something I've done a handful of times since living here. It's not a long walk at all and I'd never felt endangered on the way there before, so the primary thoughts running through my mind were about getting to Mass on time, since I was running late. Even walking down the sidewalk beside the church, I could hear the people in the congregation singing. I was nearly there when I saw a man in a dark hoodie sweatshirt round the corner where the church entrance was at the intersection of the two streets. I didn't think much of him, but said good morning, at which point he shoved me to the ground, ripped my purse off, breaking the handle and dashed off. Immediately after the community rushed to help. One woman handed me her cell phone to call the police since I thought I'd left mine in my purse (it turns out it was in my pocket, which I realized moments later). Another woman tried to head off the man in her car and find him. Soon after the parish priests and pastoral minister were taking care of me. My roommates were there in a flash and have been very supportive throughout the whole healing process, doing their best to walk me to and from places when they can, attending jiu jitsu classes with me and just overall being awesome people.
So, lest everyone think the last couple of months were entirely dark and depressing, let me set the record straight. We've also had a lot of fun. We went out before re-orientation and spent a day seeing the sights in San Fransisco. We went to fisherman's warf, Golden Gate Park, the mission, and had some great croissants that my roommate swears are better than the croissants in France. It was the first time I'd been in the bay area for an extended period of time and it was great! We also happened to see a double rainbow as we were driving on our way to the retreat, something truly special! We had a necessary time of rejuvenation and re-purpose at our Re-orientation that took place at the same place we had orientation 6 months before. Additionally we ruled the talent show with our houses massive dance skills. On the way back we took the 101, the scenic route back and saw some incredible ocean views, some elephant seals.
The students I work with never cease to amaze me from day to day. Whether it's having them yell at me for help with their homework or the struggle of getting them to settle down after a full day of school, there are always frustrating moments. There are a couple of them that I can depend on to lie to me about whether they have homework and that I just have to struggle with until they finally get tired of fighting. But it's the times that they're not fighting me that I really treasure and I'm sure will be the times I remember at the end of this year. Times like when I'm sitting down and reading a Cars book for the 5th time in a row with our Kindergartener. Or I'm reading "Wishbone" books with one of the little girls who is jealous of me because 1) my name is a book in the bible and 2) I got to see Wishbone on t.v. when I was growing up. One of the best moments in the past couple of months was playing basketball with some of the younger guys, particularly with one of the students who is absolutely famous for not listening to me. I was on his team and thankfully some of my basketball skills from years back came back to me for the day and we had a fantastic game. It may be just my imagination, but I think after that bonding experience he listens to me a little better than he did.
Being, now, more than halfway through the year is a very strange feeling. Even as I write this I'm thinking of questions to ask the person who will come here next year, the person my supervisor is going to be interviewing very soon. What will I be doing next year is still the looming question. I can tell now that this year has certainly changed me. A couple of weekends ago I gave a testimony talk at a retreat for confirmation students. This talk was very self-directed, which drove me nuts, especially since my roommate who was leading the retreat knows I like to have some structure and guidelines. How I made it my own surprised me. Perhaps the most surprising part was that I allowed myself to be very honest about the entirety of my experience and not worry if it was "okay". That meant that I spoke to my struggles with God, I spoke to the fact that sometimes the church and I or my parents and I disagree about issues of faith or social justice. I spoke to the fact that I was struggling in faith in a very deep, emotional way at the time and I allowed that to be all right. I've given so many talks in the past, to RCIA, to youth groups, to TEC retreats, but this is the first one I've given that I feel has truly been 100% me, 100% my testimony that I owned, 100% my story and not pleasing the people who were running the retreat or saying what I was supposed to say. I also gave the kids a card and asked them to write down 2 things, one gift that they have and one thing they would change about the world. While I may have said this in other talks, really going out and doing the action this year has been a truly powerful experience. I don't think I've gotten enough of it yet, so I am still debating doing a second year of JVC. I've also debated staying here in Los Angeles, specifically the neighborhood where I live now. Either option is scary, but I've got to wrestle with it.
So in closing for now, I want to refer you to the passage I used to close my talk at the retreat, Jacob wrestling with God/the Angel in Genesis. Look it up if you have a free moment.
Peace, love & courage,
-Ruth
So, lest everyone think the last couple of months were entirely dark and depressing, let me set the record straight. We've also had a lot of fun. We went out before re-orientation and spent a day seeing the sights in San Fransisco. We went to fisherman's warf, Golden Gate Park, the mission, and had some great croissants that my roommate swears are better than the croissants in France. It was the first time I'd been in the bay area for an extended period of time and it was great! We also happened to see a double rainbow as we were driving on our way to the retreat, something truly special! We had a necessary time of rejuvenation and re-purpose at our Re-orientation that took place at the same place we had orientation 6 months before. Additionally we ruled the talent show with our houses massive dance skills. On the way back we took the 101, the scenic route back and saw some incredible ocean views, some elephant seals.
The students I work with never cease to amaze me from day to day. Whether it's having them yell at me for help with their homework or the struggle of getting them to settle down after a full day of school, there are always frustrating moments. There are a couple of them that I can depend on to lie to me about whether they have homework and that I just have to struggle with until they finally get tired of fighting. But it's the times that they're not fighting me that I really treasure and I'm sure will be the times I remember at the end of this year. Times like when I'm sitting down and reading a Cars book for the 5th time in a row with our Kindergartener. Or I'm reading "Wishbone" books with one of the little girls who is jealous of me because 1) my name is a book in the bible and 2) I got to see Wishbone on t.v. when I was growing up. One of the best moments in the past couple of months was playing basketball with some of the younger guys, particularly with one of the students who is absolutely famous for not listening to me. I was on his team and thankfully some of my basketball skills from years back came back to me for the day and we had a fantastic game. It may be just my imagination, but I think after that bonding experience he listens to me a little better than he did.
Being, now, more than halfway through the year is a very strange feeling. Even as I write this I'm thinking of questions to ask the person who will come here next year, the person my supervisor is going to be interviewing very soon. What will I be doing next year is still the looming question. I can tell now that this year has certainly changed me. A couple of weekends ago I gave a testimony talk at a retreat for confirmation students. This talk was very self-directed, which drove me nuts, especially since my roommate who was leading the retreat knows I like to have some structure and guidelines. How I made it my own surprised me. Perhaps the most surprising part was that I allowed myself to be very honest about the entirety of my experience and not worry if it was "okay". That meant that I spoke to my struggles with God, I spoke to the fact that sometimes the church and I or my parents and I disagree about issues of faith or social justice. I spoke to the fact that I was struggling in faith in a very deep, emotional way at the time and I allowed that to be all right. I've given so many talks in the past, to RCIA, to youth groups, to TEC retreats, but this is the first one I've given that I feel has truly been 100% me, 100% my testimony that I owned, 100% my story and not pleasing the people who were running the retreat or saying what I was supposed to say. I also gave the kids a card and asked them to write down 2 things, one gift that they have and one thing they would change about the world. While I may have said this in other talks, really going out and doing the action this year has been a truly powerful experience. I don't think I've gotten enough of it yet, so I am still debating doing a second year of JVC. I've also debated staying here in Los Angeles, specifically the neighborhood where I live now. Either option is scary, but I've got to wrestle with it.
So in closing for now, I want to refer you to the passage I used to close my talk at the retreat, Jacob wrestling with God/the Angel in Genesis. Look it up if you have a free moment.
Peace, love & courage,
-Ruth
Thursday, January 3, 2013
La Navidad y el ano nuevo
1st of all, I know the Spanish word for year has squiggly line over it, but I don't know how to make that happen.
And a merry Christmas it was. Christmas festivities here at IMPACTO were fun even if they did leave the place looking like a train wreck. Though we didn't do "A Christmas Carol" (short sweet Charles Dickens' version, which is now getting postponed until January or February due to lack of rehearsal time) the middle schoolers and high schoolers did a short play about being nice and generous. One of the volunteers directed it and they had a merry time. That, combined with the caroling and gift giving made IMPACTO Christmas a one for the books. The kids were thrilled and our building even looked like a winter wonderland with all the Christmas decorations snowmen etc going up. It was a blessing to see some of the kids' faces when they opened presents, many of whom may have received the only gift they were going to get this Christmas. Some of them even bought into a Latino Santa Clause.
There are also a couple of community traditions around Christmas time that we got the opportunity to partake in. The first was the mass for our Lady of Guadalupe. It wasn't just the mass, the whole first half of December or so was dedicated to celebration of the patroness of Mexico and there were cries of "Que Viva" (kind of like "Long live the queen") during processions as early as December 2nd, when I joined the confirmation class and other community members in the first of several processions. The second was on one of my roommates birthdays and his parents had the opportunity to visit him and experience a local church procession complete with Aztec dancers and sage. Still, that wasn't it. The novena completed on December 12th with a Mass and las mananitas beginning at 3:45 in the morning. And we managed to wake up and, bundled in blankets that we didn't need once we got in the church, listened to awesome Mariachi music and then celebrated Mass.
Then as we all were preparing to go home for a Christmas break with our family, we also participated in Las posadas, a call and response procession, celebrated nightly from December 16th until the 23rd, The group of faithful people process to 3 houses, recreating the journey of Mary & Joseph and at each house they sing a song, creating a dialogue between the choir and the people, representing the innkeepers and Mary & Joseph. There is also a testimony about education, faith, etc. Then the group continues on to the next house until the final stop, where they are finally permitted to enter and usually fed. Our house had the honor of being the first stop the night before I left Los Angeles for the return home.
Between these celebrations and advent/Christmas, December was a very spiritual month. It finished perfectly and beautifully in the opportunity to visit family and friends and reconnecting with communities back home.
In the new year I will strive to update this blog more often as I experience the rest of this year in Los Angeles and whatever awaits beyond. Happy 2013. May it be blessed.
And a merry Christmas it was. Christmas festivities here at IMPACTO were fun even if they did leave the place looking like a train wreck. Though we didn't do "A Christmas Carol" (short sweet Charles Dickens' version, which is now getting postponed until January or February due to lack of rehearsal time) the middle schoolers and high schoolers did a short play about being nice and generous. One of the volunteers directed it and they had a merry time. That, combined with the caroling and gift giving made IMPACTO Christmas a one for the books. The kids were thrilled and our building even looked like a winter wonderland with all the Christmas decorations snowmen etc going up. It was a blessing to see some of the kids' faces when they opened presents, many of whom may have received the only gift they were going to get this Christmas. Some of them even bought into a Latino Santa Clause.
There are also a couple of community traditions around Christmas time that we got the opportunity to partake in. The first was the mass for our Lady of Guadalupe. It wasn't just the mass, the whole first half of December or so was dedicated to celebration of the patroness of Mexico and there were cries of "Que Viva" (kind of like "Long live the queen") during processions as early as December 2nd, when I joined the confirmation class and other community members in the first of several processions. The second was on one of my roommates birthdays and his parents had the opportunity to visit him and experience a local church procession complete with Aztec dancers and sage. Still, that wasn't it. The novena completed on December 12th with a Mass and las mananitas beginning at 3:45 in the morning. And we managed to wake up and, bundled in blankets that we didn't need once we got in the church, listened to awesome Mariachi music and then celebrated Mass.
Then as we all were preparing to go home for a Christmas break with our family, we also participated in Las posadas, a call and response procession, celebrated nightly from December 16th until the 23rd, The group of faithful people process to 3 houses, recreating the journey of Mary & Joseph and at each house they sing a song, creating a dialogue between the choir and the people, representing the innkeepers and Mary & Joseph. There is also a testimony about education, faith, etc. Then the group continues on to the next house until the final stop, where they are finally permitted to enter and usually fed. Our house had the honor of being the first stop the night before I left Los Angeles for the return home.
Between these celebrations and advent/Christmas, December was a very spiritual month. It finished perfectly and beautifully in the opportunity to visit family and friends and reconnecting with communities back home.
In the new year I will strive to update this blog more often as I experience the rest of this year in Los Angeles and whatever awaits beyond. Happy 2013. May it be blessed.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Halloween and Dia De Los Muertos
I love Halloween. It wasn't until this year that I realized just how much I enjoyed the festive holiday full of scares and pumpkins and trick or treaters! Two weekends before Halloween I spent a good part of a Saturday making my Halloween costume from scratch. Talk about Simple Living. I used all sorts of stuff from around the house, paper plates, the straps from paper bags and markers and before long my costume was completed and our kitchen table was transformed from an altar of cleanliness to a creative chaotic creature. It was fun. A couple of nights before, in an effort to put myself to sleep at 1 in the morning, I had decorated our house with a group of black construction paper bats. Everything was ready for the spirit of Halloween.
As part of Halloween this year, there were two major days to celebrate. One was the weekend before when 5 of our 6 housemembers road-tripped to San Diego where we spent the night in festivities with the JV house there. It was on this trip that I was told that my mask was "terrifying". I'd forgotten to cut a mouth, though there was one in marker, so I ditched the mask partway through the night. It was a fun event, full of exploring the beaches of San Diego, treating ourselves by going out to eat and just getting to know the San Diego girls who we'd met at orientation months ago. Seeing how they were growing in community was very interesting and they threw an awesome party.
Some of my casamates considered this the end of Halloween. But it's not over until it's over. One of IMPACTO's major celebrations through the year is the Haunted House on Halloween day and I was excited for it. From past years I had been told it would be a very stressful time and for the entire month I'd been fearing the stress that Halloween would bring. When the day came down to it, though, it went well. Not flawlessly, but well. After trick or treating at the beginning of the afternoon, it was nearly an hour before the Haunted House was up and running, a veritable exercise in patience with me being told "five more minutes" and then having to keep saying "soon" to a group of elementary kids. Then once it started I had the pleasure of going through 3 or 4 times with various groups of the elementary students, who more often than not clung tightly to one or both of my arms. Despite the kids who cried because they were so scared by the middle schoolers who were running the show, it was a thrilling event and went as smoothly as could be hoped.
Quickly on Halloween's tail, with a brief interlude for Christmas music thanks to one of my casamates who is obsessed with the December holiday, was Dia De los Muertos, day of the dead. Though I'd studied abroad in Venezuela, I'd never been in a place that celebrated this holiday. It was an eye opening experience. First off, I discovered to my surprise that, despite talking about the celebration and history behind it in IMPACTO, not all of the kids celebrated the holiday and when they were given a writing assignment about the holiday I had to pull some of their teeth to get them to write anything. Then there was the actual event, which included face painting, which left the kids with white faces looking like decorated skulls. Around 5:30 we met up with a procession of other people on their way to the big Dia De Los Muertos celebrations in the area, just a block or two from our house. The procession included gigantic skulls towering above the crowd, drums, and traditional Aztec dancers. After the procession, the staff, including myself, walked the kids home, munching on Halloween candy as we went.
This wasn't the end of the celebration, though, not by a long shot. The same night there was a poetry event at Homeboy, a gang reformation center. Because of the procession, I hadn't thought I'd be able to attend, but as luck would have it one of my roommates had her parents' car and gave me a ride to the event. It was a soul touching, healing experience, to hear these former gangmembers speak about love, life, and death. All the while, in our midst was an altar decorated for Dia De Los Muertos to remember the dead.
At the end of the night, a group of us returned to the large celebration a few blocks down. We browsed through the vendors' collections, most of which were artwork and t-shirts decorated with skulls. There was great Mexican food and a live band. Then there were the altars inside. The artwork was indescribable and I only managed to get a few pictures, but even then felt as though I were photographing a cemetery or a tomb. When all was said and done, it was a powerful week and seeing the two traditions so close to each other was particularly moving. It was an October/November week to remember.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
October Update
I think it's safe to say I haven't been updating this blog as much as I'd hoped. The numbers show it too. It's been nearly 3 months since I arrived here in California and I've only posted once. Perhaps the trick from now on is to post in bursts, writing something and then posting it once it's been typed up. Hopefully I'll figure out a good way to keep the folks back home updated on a more regular basis, since I only have time to make so many phone calls.
Life in Boyle Heights has been energetic. Halloween is coming, which means the Haunted House at work, to be held on the 31st of October. It's been fun helping to set that up and just seeing how excited the kids are to either work on it or to be scared by it. My Halloween costume is all set for our trip to San Diego this weekend to visit another JV house which will be hosting a rocking awesome party. I'll be a moose. I spent a better part of the day on Saturday making my costume out of stuff we had gathered around the house, paper plates, markers, the ends of old grocery bags for the horns.
In the spirit of Halloween, we also had a movie night this past Friday at work as a Fundraiser for the High School's upcoming trip. We watched the Goonies, and be "we" I mean myself and a handful of the elementary & middle school students. I'd never seen it before, but thoroughly enjoyed myself.
On a completely different note, our community is challenging each other to become more vulnerable and to truly let this experience touch us. This JVC year, to me is about revealing my brokenness and allowing the brokenness of the people around us to unite so we can walk beside each other in our brokenness, and find healing. The kids here don't tell me traumatizing stories every day, but every so often one of them will start crying because they're frustrated with their homework, or frustrated with life in general. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't do well when people look sad. Heck, I don't even do well when animated animals look sad (no joke, ask my sister.); how much more vulnerable and uncomfortable do I feel when kids that I work with and care about come to me and are crying. It's hard to deal with because sometimes I can be gentle, but other times I have to be firm and just tell them to quit crying and finish their homework. It's one of the hardest parts of this experience for me, seeing others vulnerable and being helpless to help them.
On that note, there is still hope. As a part of our weekly community nights last night, we watched Fr. G and the Homeboys, a documentary about Homeboy industries and the work they do in our neighborhood. *Side note, if anyone is interested in learning more about Boyle Heights/Homeboy, I highly recommend reading Tatoos on the Heart. Boyle Heights improving; there is hope and I have the pleasure to see that every day in my kids as they get better and better at schoolwork and, hopefully, become better people. I know I'm becoming a better person for the interactions that I have with them, my coworkers and, most importantly my roommates. We laugh, we complain, we watch the debates, we challenge each other and I can't wait for what else this year brings.
Life in Boyle Heights has been energetic. Halloween is coming, which means the Haunted House at work, to be held on the 31st of October. It's been fun helping to set that up and just seeing how excited the kids are to either work on it or to be scared by it. My Halloween costume is all set for our trip to San Diego this weekend to visit another JV house which will be hosting a rocking awesome party. I'll be a moose. I spent a better part of the day on Saturday making my costume out of stuff we had gathered around the house, paper plates, markers, the ends of old grocery bags for the horns.
In the spirit of Halloween, we also had a movie night this past Friday at work as a Fundraiser for the High School's upcoming trip. We watched the Goonies, and be "we" I mean myself and a handful of the elementary & middle school students. I'd never seen it before, but thoroughly enjoyed myself.
On a completely different note, our community is challenging each other to become more vulnerable and to truly let this experience touch us. This JVC year, to me is about revealing my brokenness and allowing the brokenness of the people around us to unite so we can walk beside each other in our brokenness, and find healing. The kids here don't tell me traumatizing stories every day, but every so often one of them will start crying because they're frustrated with their homework, or frustrated with life in general. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't do well when people look sad. Heck, I don't even do well when animated animals look sad (no joke, ask my sister.); how much more vulnerable and uncomfortable do I feel when kids that I work with and care about come to me and are crying. It's hard to deal with because sometimes I can be gentle, but other times I have to be firm and just tell them to quit crying and finish their homework. It's one of the hardest parts of this experience for me, seeing others vulnerable and being helpless to help them.
On that note, there is still hope. As a part of our weekly community nights last night, we watched Fr. G and the Homeboys, a documentary about Homeboy industries and the work they do in our neighborhood. *Side note, if anyone is interested in learning more about Boyle Heights/Homeboy, I highly recommend reading Tatoos on the Heart. Boyle Heights improving; there is hope and I have the pleasure to see that every day in my kids as they get better and better at schoolwork and, hopefully, become better people. I know I'm becoming a better person for the interactions that I have with them, my coworkers and, most importantly my roommates. We laugh, we complain, we watch the debates, we challenge each other and I can't wait for what else this year brings.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
The first Three Weeks
It's been three weeks into my adventure in California and this is the first time I've managed to actually sit down and write about it in a way that people will be reading. It feels like there's no good, concise way to sum up the last month or so, but I'll do my best.
Since all voyages must have a beginning, mine started with a train ride from Omaha, NE to San Jose, CA. It was long, but definitely worth it. I met some interesting people, including a lady from Spain, now living in D.C., who loves to tell stories and a man who was very confused by my wearing University of Minnesota sweat pants and a Reeths-Puffer high school shirt. Equally confusing to most people were my huge suitcase and guitar, the only 2 pieces of luggage I took with me on the train. As a matter of fact, 3 weeks later, I'm still living out of that same suitcase, wearing the same clothing that I've been cycling through for the last month. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to the box that's coming from home next week with some extra clothing and other luxuries.
I went through a week of orientation, which included meeting my roommates for the first time, the people I'll be spending the next year with, and 50 other Jesuit Volunteers serving in California. It was a nice transition into the year, complete with walks on the beach, great food and meaningful discussion. And then, after a 6 hour car ride, we arrived in Los Angeles and were welcomed by community members with pizza. As I keep being reminded, this is a year of simple living and taking advantage of free food. The next day we got a tour of the area and the other placement sites of my housemates and I saw where I would be working for the next year. I gotta say, while I was excited, I was also a bit nervous. The nerves sank in even more on the first day. I was the last one out of the house, so I'd seen my housemates embark into their new realities, going out to do various jobs in our neighborhood. I had an easy commute, so thankfully I didn't manage to get lost, (one major fear out of the way!) I read through all sorts of stuff from the previous JV on how to do my job (she had a lot of helpful advice after her year here.) and then I had one day to get used to the office, the staff and to figure out where everything was before the kids arrived the next day. It was nervewracking, but with the help of the other staff I felt somewhat prepared for the next day. With the constant refrain of "be strict with the kids first and their friend second" I braced myself for the elementary.
Now, I can't compare myself to what has been in the past and I certainly can't say that the kids listen to me 100% of the time, but I can say, for the most part, I am having fun. The best part of my day is after the kids show up or when I'm showing people around the place. I'm now beginning my 3rd week of work.
I came into this year, only a couple weeks ago, trying to discern, among other things, if I am being called to be a teacher. I can't answer that yet. If I had a time machine to 2 weeks ago, though, I would tell myself not to worry as much as I did. I know this experience has just begun and I'm looking forward to the paths that will be taken this year. I can already see some progress that I have made with the kids, the fact that they trust me to help them with homework. I am happy in the present.
*There's so much else to tell, like about our first trip to the beach (great time, bad sunburn) or just how great my housemates are, but since my 1st worry of the year was that I would disappoint my placement (job) that's what I wrote about first. The rest will come in time.
Since all voyages must have a beginning, mine started with a train ride from Omaha, NE to San Jose, CA. It was long, but definitely worth it. I met some interesting people, including a lady from Spain, now living in D.C., who loves to tell stories and a man who was very confused by my wearing University of Minnesota sweat pants and a Reeths-Puffer high school shirt. Equally confusing to most people were my huge suitcase and guitar, the only 2 pieces of luggage I took with me on the train. As a matter of fact, 3 weeks later, I'm still living out of that same suitcase, wearing the same clothing that I've been cycling through for the last month. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to the box that's coming from home next week with some extra clothing and other luxuries.
I went through a week of orientation, which included meeting my roommates for the first time, the people I'll be spending the next year with, and 50 other Jesuit Volunteers serving in California. It was a nice transition into the year, complete with walks on the beach, great food and meaningful discussion. And then, after a 6 hour car ride, we arrived in Los Angeles and were welcomed by community members with pizza. As I keep being reminded, this is a year of simple living and taking advantage of free food. The next day we got a tour of the area and the other placement sites of my housemates and I saw where I would be working for the next year. I gotta say, while I was excited, I was also a bit nervous. The nerves sank in even more on the first day. I was the last one out of the house, so I'd seen my housemates embark into their new realities, going out to do various jobs in our neighborhood. I had an easy commute, so thankfully I didn't manage to get lost, (one major fear out of the way!) I read through all sorts of stuff from the previous JV on how to do my job (she had a lot of helpful advice after her year here.) and then I had one day to get used to the office, the staff and to figure out where everything was before the kids arrived the next day. It was nervewracking, but with the help of the other staff I felt somewhat prepared for the next day. With the constant refrain of "be strict with the kids first and their friend second" I braced myself for the elementary.
Now, I can't compare myself to what has been in the past and I certainly can't say that the kids listen to me 100% of the time, but I can say, for the most part, I am having fun. The best part of my day is after the kids show up or when I'm showing people around the place. I'm now beginning my 3rd week of work.
I came into this year, only a couple weeks ago, trying to discern, among other things, if I am being called to be a teacher. I can't answer that yet. If I had a time machine to 2 weeks ago, though, I would tell myself not to worry as much as I did. I know this experience has just begun and I'm looking forward to the paths that will be taken this year. I can already see some progress that I have made with the kids, the fact that they trust me to help them with homework. I am happy in the present.
*There's so much else to tell, like about our first trip to the beach (great time, bad sunburn) or just how great my housemates are, but since my 1st worry of the year was that I would disappoint my placement (job) that's what I wrote about first. The rest will come in time.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Lessons from the Mississippi River:
Last summer, my sister and I spent a couple days at a Shakespeare festival in Winona, MN while camping on the Mississippi River. One deceptively sunny morning, having several hours to kill before the play in the evening, we decided to take a canoe trip on the Mississippi, since our campground rented canoes for a reasonable price and it's something we both enjoy doing. It was supposed to be a really nice day, despite the high waters of the Mississippi caused by recent rainfall. We spent about half an hour trying to figure out how to get to the main channel of the Mississippi, then our attention was drawn elsewhere; there were dark clouds coming straight at us. We had hoped they were just rain clouds since it had been a while since we had seen a solid piece of land on which we could make port, but our hopes of this soon vanished as we heard a rumbling approaching from the cloud. We immediately began scanning the horizon for any sort of land on which we could escape the encroaching storm and, just as the clouds and rain were beginning to overtake us, we found a thin stretch of land, partially, but not entirely underwater. We pulled the canoe ashore and the thunderstorm began. I took out my cell phone, desperate to tell someone where we were, only to discover that it had died; some water had probably managed to leak into the bag. We were stranded, just to two of us, in a thunderstorm, on an island with an abundance of trees, any one of which could easily be struck by lightning at any moment. We passed the time, singing random songs, shrieking at the storm to cease, and, above all, praying that we'd survive. Even during the storm, it dawned on me, that the situation had an odd similarity to the Biblical account of Jesus sleeping through a storm on the boat. My sister and I were like the disciples, crying out for Him to save us because we thought we were going to die. Eventually the storm abated and we high-tailed it back to shore without incident, thanking God that He had finally commanded "Peace, be still!"
This year we got to experience another Bible story first-hand: The Good Samaritan. We went canoeing again, this time making sure to ask whether there were any storms in the forecast. This time we had a plan; we were going to go for about an hour and a half down the river, turn around, come back and make the 2 pm matinee of King Lear. The first part of that went well. We made it to the actual river this time, not just a tributary and heard the noon-bells chime from one of the local churches. We were all set to turn around, but then we spent about 15 minutes paddling before realizing that we were getting absolutely nowhere. Since the cell phone once again wasn't working, this time due to lack of reception, we decided to follow the river, since, like it or not, that seemed to be our only option and hope that there would be a branch off that would take us to camp. Well, we'd been going on this plan for about an hour and a half, with no sign of a path to lead us back to the camp. By this time we'd given up on getting back in time for the play and were just trying to figure out how to get back. That was when our first "Good Samaritan" came along, tied our canoe up to the back of his motorboat and towed us quite a ways until the waters were calmer. He let us go there, telling us to wave someone else down if it got too hard going upstream. We did well for quite a stretch there, but then the current got stronger again and once again we were taking 2 strokes back for every forward stroke. We finally resorted to coming close to the shore and trying to grab hold of branches to inch the canoe a little ways upstream. We tried to wave a couple boats down, but they just laughed at us. There got to be a cluster of 3 or 4 other boats there, talking among themselves & saying that we needed help because we were clearly not making any progress. It wasn't until two sympathetic gentlemen in a motorboat heading upstream came along that we actually got help. They came over to us and gave us a tow all the way back to our campsite. If this duo of "Good Samaritans" hadn't come along, I'm sure we would have still been sitting right were we were when they made their trip back downstream. It might not seem like a big deal to give someone a tow when they're indeed, but I'm convinced that actions like this, large or small are exactly what Jesus meant when he instructed us to "Love your neighbor as yourself" and I'm very grateful to those who have been Good Samaritans to me.
Last summer, my sister and I spent a couple days at a Shakespeare festival in Winona, MN while camping on the Mississippi River. One deceptively sunny morning, having several hours to kill before the play in the evening, we decided to take a canoe trip on the Mississippi, since our campground rented canoes for a reasonable price and it's something we both enjoy doing. It was supposed to be a really nice day, despite the high waters of the Mississippi caused by recent rainfall. We spent about half an hour trying to figure out how to get to the main channel of the Mississippi, then our attention was drawn elsewhere; there were dark clouds coming straight at us. We had hoped they were just rain clouds since it had been a while since we had seen a solid piece of land on which we could make port, but our hopes of this soon vanished as we heard a rumbling approaching from the cloud. We immediately began scanning the horizon for any sort of land on which we could escape the encroaching storm and, just as the clouds and rain were beginning to overtake us, we found a thin stretch of land, partially, but not entirely underwater. We pulled the canoe ashore and the thunderstorm began. I took out my cell phone, desperate to tell someone where we were, only to discover that it had died; some water had probably managed to leak into the bag. We were stranded, just to two of us, in a thunderstorm, on an island with an abundance of trees, any one of which could easily be struck by lightning at any moment. We passed the time, singing random songs, shrieking at the storm to cease, and, above all, praying that we'd survive. Even during the storm, it dawned on me, that the situation had an odd similarity to the Biblical account of Jesus sleeping through a storm on the boat. My sister and I were like the disciples, crying out for Him to save us because we thought we were going to die. Eventually the storm abated and we high-tailed it back to shore without incident, thanking God that He had finally commanded "Peace, be still!"
This year we got to experience another Bible story first-hand: The Good Samaritan. We went canoeing again, this time making sure to ask whether there were any storms in the forecast. This time we had a plan; we were going to go for about an hour and a half down the river, turn around, come back and make the 2 pm matinee of King Lear. The first part of that went well. We made it to the actual river this time, not just a tributary and heard the noon-bells chime from one of the local churches. We were all set to turn around, but then we spent about 15 minutes paddling before realizing that we were getting absolutely nowhere. Since the cell phone once again wasn't working, this time due to lack of reception, we decided to follow the river, since, like it or not, that seemed to be our only option and hope that there would be a branch off that would take us to camp. Well, we'd been going on this plan for about an hour and a half, with no sign of a path to lead us back to the camp. By this time we'd given up on getting back in time for the play and were just trying to figure out how to get back. That was when our first "Good Samaritan" came along, tied our canoe up to the back of his motorboat and towed us quite a ways until the waters were calmer. He let us go there, telling us to wave someone else down if it got too hard going upstream. We did well for quite a stretch there, but then the current got stronger again and once again we were taking 2 strokes back for every forward stroke. We finally resorted to coming close to the shore and trying to grab hold of branches to inch the canoe a little ways upstream. We tried to wave a couple boats down, but they just laughed at us. There got to be a cluster of 3 or 4 other boats there, talking among themselves & saying that we needed help because we were clearly not making any progress. It wasn't until two sympathetic gentlemen in a motorboat heading upstream came along that we actually got help. They came over to us and gave us a tow all the way back to our campsite. If this duo of "Good Samaritans" hadn't come along, I'm sure we would have still been sitting right were we were when they made their trip back downstream. It might not seem like a big deal to give someone a tow when they're indeed, but I'm convinced that actions like this, large or small are exactly what Jesus meant when he instructed us to "Love your neighbor as yourself" and I'm very grateful to those who have been Good Samaritans to me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)