So, I'm skipping a good half year from the subject of my last post. This is not to discredit any of the JVC experience that happened between, I sincerely hope that I will be able to revisit it within the next couple of weeks, if not I'm certain I'll revisit it in good time. However, I need to try to tell you what happened when we crossed the border to Mexico.
Working in my office you can't help but become familiar with all sorts of immigration difficulties that were barely on my radar last year, much less two years ago when I began my journey as a Jesuit Volunteer. I answer the phones and one of the most common calls I get is one saying that a relative (husband, wife, brother, sister, son, daughter) is in detention and is in danger of being deported. Oftentimes this means that individual has committed some crime, anything from a minor offense to a larger crime, and is now detained by ICE (Immigration Customs Enforcement) after they've either completed their prison sentence or been acquitted. ICE then detains them in its own jail facilities. Unfortunately, as a very small and very new non-profit, NMILC doesn't have the resources to provide representation or even a consultation in these cases unless the person is able to be let go on bond. So I refer ever single one of those calls on to an agency in El Paso, where New Mexico's Immigration Court is, where they may or may not be able to get assistance. Many individuals in the immigration system aren't even entitled to an attorney as they are in the criminal justice system. So I help them as best I can, wish them luck, wishing with all of my heart that there were words more fit to the occassion, and, usually amid a tearful telephonic farewell of "gracias, muy amable" (thank you, very kind of you) we are disconnected forever.
This past weekend I saw the other side of that story, what happens during and after that deportation.
My three communitymates and I made the trek out to Arizona on Thursday evening after a full day of work. By the time we got in to Tucson at midnight we were all bushed and fell promptly asleep.
The following afternoon, we joined up with the group of Arizona JVs to witness operation streamline, a mass court hearing. Nearly 80 individuals stood before the judge, all in the room with their attorneys, with whom they had met for perhaps 10 - 30 minutes if they were lucky. All the detainees were shackled. All were re-entry cases, which means they had previously been deported and had returned to the United States only to be caught again. All had signed a plea bargain already, agreeing with the state to a specific amount of time in prison. At the beginning of the hearing the judge, one of the more patient ones I've had the pleasure of witnessing, informed them of their rights and how the hearing would proceed. Then she proceeded to call them up in groups of 8 -10, rattling off the same series of questions to verify the facts of their case, that they understood their rights and how they plead. The same questions over and over and, aside from some clarifications for lack of understanding, the same answers "culpable" (guilty). Then the judge would rattle off their individual prison time and would be done with it. Upon one or two occasions, she was petitioned further. One man asked to have his sentence shortened because both he and his son would be serving and his wife had just had her leg amputated. The judge, while she seemed to genuinely sympathize with his situation, was literally unable to do anything; he had already signed his agreement with the government and she could make no amends to it. The most she was able to do was recommend that he and his son serve their time in the same detention facility. And it went on in that manner for an hour and a half . . . 80 people, their lives decided just like that within 14 days of being caught and charged with re-entry.
The following day we crossed the actual border between Nogales, Arizona and Nogales, Sonora (Mexico). Having crossed into Juarez earlier in the year with Alex I was not as nervous as some of the fellow crossees, but was anxious for another reason. Two days before I had been asked to translate for the group at the women's shelter, since the majority of my companions don't speak Spanish and the only other fluent individuals were to remain at the Comedor (the dining room of the Kino Border Initiative). We crossed (it's truly amazing how little documentation you need to cross into Mexico; we had to present nothing, no passport no id, nada) and took a bus to the organization. On the way there we learned about the work that KBI does, helping deported immigrants who are deciding whether to try to return to the U.S. The two main programs that we saw were the Comedor and the Women's Shelter. We stayed in the Comedor for our orientation and then the group of 7 of us made our way to the Women's Shelter with our guide, a 22 year old native Mexican volunteer working at KBI, Ale. We made our way up so many stairs to the top floor of an apartment building where the shelter was and then met our leader, one of the sisters. She gave us a presentation about the work of the shelter empowering and supporting the 8 women who live there for 7 days at a time through self-esteem classes, meals, education and a variety of other programming. Then the women came in. From the work I do screening phone calls and hearing so many defeated stories I was prepared for the worst. However, when the women entered the room, they seemed anything but defeated. They were friendly right off the bat and even tried to communicate with my non-Spanish speaking friends. We asked them to share their stories and they did, so openly, willingly, and powerfully that I hated to stop them for me to translate what they'd said. We primarily heard from two or three of the women and others chimed in. They had all faced terrible hardships. One woman after previously having been deported was so determined to get to the United States that she scaled the wall not once, but twice once to the United States side and then when "la Migra" (Immigration) spied her and it was clear they were going to get her, she scaled it again, back to the "safety" of Mexico. She is the same woman who said that she looked at the positive side of her experience and didn't let her negative experiences get in the way of what needed to be done. I looked around at the women in that room after the stories were told, stories of trying to get better jobs, of trying to save their children from danger in Mexico and in turn being separated from them, terrible stories of brutality done to them in the detention centers (one woman who didn't speak Spanish or English had her arm broken because she couldn't understand what the guards wanted her to do). As we neared the end of our conversation, I kept thanking them, on behalf of both myself and the other volunteers, but they just kept thanking us in return. They asked us to change the system and joked about smuggling them in our suitcases. But overall, they persistently thanked us for being there. I wanted to tell them that the privilege was ours, that I had been truly humbled by their experience and that they were some of the strongest women that I've ever met and I did, but I didn't have the words in English or in Spanish to express what came to my heart. After that discussion, we retired to the apartment with some of the women we had just met and watched an Avril Lavigne music video. Then we reunited with the rest of our group. One of my communitymates asked me if I'd cried and I didn't answer him, I just put my arm around him, so grateful to have the presence of my Albuquerque "family" whom I love to death.
After a talk from one of the Jesuit priests, we made our way to our last stop before leaving Mexico, a horrible place on a sidewalk right by the wall where a twelve year old boy was gunned down a year and a half ago for allegedly throwing rocks at the wall. The voice of justice that to this day has been left unheard weeps for him there and for the twenty people that border patrol has killed. With him in mind, we crossed back to the United States.
After lunch of delicious Mexican food at a food truck our band of 15 made our way to a desert location 25 miles from the border. This is where migrants have to walk, because they have to get past the border patrol checkpoint nearby. And then they continue walking through the desert. I will tell you this, late June in Nogales, Arizona is not where you want to walk, not even a person who "likes heat" as much as myself. We trudged along this trail with no shade and remnants of human's crossing (a backpack here, a hat there, a water bottle to the left) for under an hour and by the end of it we were all sweating and ready to get back to the air conditioned car.
A group of us went to the nearby mission for Saturday evening Mass where we sat through a hot, musicless service and then returned to the Tucson house. Having all 15 of us together was truly a privilege; Albuquerque is 6 - 7 hours from Tucson, our nearest JV Community, so we enjoy our time with nuestras compañeras when we can.
Sunday night we arrived late in Albuquerque and the next day I told my Program Coordinator that this had been one of my top 5 experiences for the JVC year and that I'd highly recommend it. And yet, I still feel as though I don't have the words to describe it. Maybe it's because I haven't written deeply in a while. Perhaps it's due to some defect in the English or Spanish language, or the default in myself or in society that always wants to say something was good. Perhaps there's just too much emotion there to put a word on it. For now I shall have to resort to a Richard Rohr saying . . . it was broken and blessed.
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
O Long Awaited Post / O Holy Night
So, I'm once again nearing the end of another year with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps officially I have less than two months left, which is a very scary thought considering I don't have a concrete idea of what I will be doing next, so that'll be the first topic of this post. However, that's, thankfully directly tied to the work I've been doing here so far.
I've begun my job search next year and am essentially looking all over the place. I would prefer not to stay in Albuquerque; although it has been a beautiful experience I don't think I'm cut out for desert living. I miss my water, but more importantly, I miss my family too much to remain here unless I felt a very strong calling to do so. I have been concentrating my search on Houston, TX, Los Angeles, and the midwest, but am now primarily focusing on Chicago for several reasons. It is prime location, less than 3 hours from many people I care about and only about 8 from my parents (not bad considering the several day journey my family will be undertaking to see me next week. (more on this later)). I am flexible as to the positions I'm looking at, but know one thing for sure in order to be truly happy next year I need to be using my Spanish skills. I have a passion for language that will never die and using my Spanish skills every day at NMILC, whether it's just the small task of answering the phones or if it's spending an entire day translating for a client, has been the most life-giving part of my job this year. Even the days that I came home despising the social services part of my job I have felt blessed that I was able to use my skills. That said, my ideal position would either be working with youth or as an immigration paralegal. I've truly thrived in the legal side of my job this year and don't want to be done with the idea of this. I realized this for the first time when I assisted one of our attorneys in preparing for a trial and listened to the asylum applicant's testimony. Watching my supervisor prepare her for what was coming was sincerely empowering and something I want to continue to be a part of.
So, that's the job search bit, but I feel like we skipped a significant amount of the year to get there. Let's go back to Christmas. For the very first time I was not with my family for our biggest holiday celebration. As a group, my community played with the idea of spending the holidays in Albuquerque very early on in the year, but as the time drew closer, four of us decided to commit to staying. This wasn't a forced decision, but one I entered into willingly. As I worked with my clients and my students at the English as a Second Language class I heard so many stories of people who were unable to be reunited with their loved ones: sons, daughters, parents, separated, not just for Christmas, but for who knows how long. One student was unable to visit her family in Mexico for her brother's funeral because then she would risk having no way to return to the United States. To be in solidarity with these clients and with my roommate who had to work on Christmas Eve, I chose to stay despite the fact that the law center was technically on vacation. Christmas Eve dawned very early, more precisely before-dawn. I awoke at 5 in the morning to pick up two of my client from their home in Pajarito Mesa, a neighborhood with no street signs and limited civilization, and bring them to Dental Day, a free dental care day starting at 7 am. As I drove to their house, with nothing more than the directions to their house in hand, I felt like Mary and Joseph voyaging to Bethlehem. It was dark when I entered the pot-hole ridden neighborhood, my two door Chevrolet Cavalier groaning against the uneven terrain. And then I got lost. I hit a dead end and realized I had no idea where these people lived. I called my client and tried to find them and finally worked my way through the dark maze of roads to find them. We made it to the dental clinic with time to spare and then I took them back home; They were so grateful that they'd finally seen a dentist, something many people take for granted, at no cost to them.
The day continued on. Alex had friends in town, so we hung out with them and had a fairly calm evening. Amanda and I watched Love Actually, a movie that my roommate Catherine from last year got me hooked on as a holiday tradition. The time had nearly come for Christmas Eve Mass. Amanda and I were planning on playing music for the morning Mass, so I was super indecisive about going; moreover, my family always goes to Christmas Eve Mass and I wasn't sure how I'd hold up missing them. Long story short I decided to go and, sure enough, I felt more homesick at church than I'd felt up to that point. Wedged comfortably between Alex and Ben's family I felt home enough, though, until the choir started singing "O Holy Night" at communion time. Like it or not, that song has been a familial tradition for the past five years, having listened to someone sing it in a key that was too high for them many times during Christmas Eve Mass and then me insisting on playing it later. I broke down. I hid my head in my folded hands, praying that the boys didn't notice. Afterwards, I dashed back to the house and found Amanda, who had thankfully come back early and we had a girl bonding moment. The rest of the night was awesome. We went over to our support people's house to enjoy cocoa and a hayride seeing the luminaria scenes through Albuquerque. Then we went on to visit one of the board members of Pegasus's house. By the time we returned home it was late, but we stayed up playing games. I was feeling out of it, and played it off as being tired, but one of my housemates saw right through me and called me out on being homesick and, just like he'd done so many times before, pulled me back into the present. We had a heart to heart in the kitchen later that night, talking about being so far away from our families on Christmas and how weird it was. I went to bed that Christmas eve feeling as though it was a truly holy night, even though many of the people I loved were so far away, many of them were nearby too.
The next morning we exchanged gifts. We set a $5.00 maximum and everybody loved it. We then had a huge dinner at our house, making it through the smoke alarm going off several times. The house was full of friends and family.
The following day I made my way up to Los Alamos to spend time with my aunt, uncle, cousin and my relatives who I had only heard stories of before this year. They were so welcoming, I truly felt like I was with family the entire time I was there. The games of pounce and mafia, the watching of Doctor Who and Sherlock for several days gave me the touch of home I needed, not having seen my immediate family in 6 months. Spending time with the wonderful family that I have made me so very humbled and grateful that I have the opportunity to be cared for in such a way. I truly, truly felt blessed this Christmas and I am sorry that it took me so long to write about it.
There is still a lot of the year that has to be covered, but I don't think I have the skill to teleport us from Christmas to June in one evening's worth of writing. There has been a lot to cover and the next two months will take care of themselves. However, I will try to do the rest of the year justice in its own time before the end. It will be a way to give praise for the experiences that have happened and to give closure to the pitfalls.
But, enough for tonight.
I've begun my job search next year and am essentially looking all over the place. I would prefer not to stay in Albuquerque; although it has been a beautiful experience I don't think I'm cut out for desert living. I miss my water, but more importantly, I miss my family too much to remain here unless I felt a very strong calling to do so. I have been concentrating my search on Houston, TX, Los Angeles, and the midwest, but am now primarily focusing on Chicago for several reasons. It is prime location, less than 3 hours from many people I care about and only about 8 from my parents (not bad considering the several day journey my family will be undertaking to see me next week. (more on this later)). I am flexible as to the positions I'm looking at, but know one thing for sure in order to be truly happy next year I need to be using my Spanish skills. I have a passion for language that will never die and using my Spanish skills every day at NMILC, whether it's just the small task of answering the phones or if it's spending an entire day translating for a client, has been the most life-giving part of my job this year. Even the days that I came home despising the social services part of my job I have felt blessed that I was able to use my skills. That said, my ideal position would either be working with youth or as an immigration paralegal. I've truly thrived in the legal side of my job this year and don't want to be done with the idea of this. I realized this for the first time when I assisted one of our attorneys in preparing for a trial and listened to the asylum applicant's testimony. Watching my supervisor prepare her for what was coming was sincerely empowering and something I want to continue to be a part of.
So, that's the job search bit, but I feel like we skipped a significant amount of the year to get there. Let's go back to Christmas. For the very first time I was not with my family for our biggest holiday celebration. As a group, my community played with the idea of spending the holidays in Albuquerque very early on in the year, but as the time drew closer, four of us decided to commit to staying. This wasn't a forced decision, but one I entered into willingly. As I worked with my clients and my students at the English as a Second Language class I heard so many stories of people who were unable to be reunited with their loved ones: sons, daughters, parents, separated, not just for Christmas, but for who knows how long. One student was unable to visit her family in Mexico for her brother's funeral because then she would risk having no way to return to the United States. To be in solidarity with these clients and with my roommate who had to work on Christmas Eve, I chose to stay despite the fact that the law center was technically on vacation. Christmas Eve dawned very early, more precisely before-dawn. I awoke at 5 in the morning to pick up two of my client from their home in Pajarito Mesa, a neighborhood with no street signs and limited civilization, and bring them to Dental Day, a free dental care day starting at 7 am. As I drove to their house, with nothing more than the directions to their house in hand, I felt like Mary and Joseph voyaging to Bethlehem. It was dark when I entered the pot-hole ridden neighborhood, my two door Chevrolet Cavalier groaning against the uneven terrain. And then I got lost. I hit a dead end and realized I had no idea where these people lived. I called my client and tried to find them and finally worked my way through the dark maze of roads to find them. We made it to the dental clinic with time to spare and then I took them back home; They were so grateful that they'd finally seen a dentist, something many people take for granted, at no cost to them.
The day continued on. Alex had friends in town, so we hung out with them and had a fairly calm evening. Amanda and I watched Love Actually, a movie that my roommate Catherine from last year got me hooked on as a holiday tradition. The time had nearly come for Christmas Eve Mass. Amanda and I were planning on playing music for the morning Mass, so I was super indecisive about going; moreover, my family always goes to Christmas Eve Mass and I wasn't sure how I'd hold up missing them. Long story short I decided to go and, sure enough, I felt more homesick at church than I'd felt up to that point. Wedged comfortably between Alex and Ben's family I felt home enough, though, until the choir started singing "O Holy Night" at communion time. Like it or not, that song has been a familial tradition for the past five years, having listened to someone sing it in a key that was too high for them many times during Christmas Eve Mass and then me insisting on playing it later. I broke down. I hid my head in my folded hands, praying that the boys didn't notice. Afterwards, I dashed back to the house and found Amanda, who had thankfully come back early and we had a girl bonding moment. The rest of the night was awesome. We went over to our support people's house to enjoy cocoa and a hayride seeing the luminaria scenes through Albuquerque. Then we went on to visit one of the board members of Pegasus's house. By the time we returned home it was late, but we stayed up playing games. I was feeling out of it, and played it off as being tired, but one of my housemates saw right through me and called me out on being homesick and, just like he'd done so many times before, pulled me back into the present. We had a heart to heart in the kitchen later that night, talking about being so far away from our families on Christmas and how weird it was. I went to bed that Christmas eve feeling as though it was a truly holy night, even though many of the people I loved were so far away, many of them were nearby too.
The next morning we exchanged gifts. We set a $5.00 maximum and everybody loved it. We then had a huge dinner at our house, making it through the smoke alarm going off several times. The house was full of friends and family.
The following day I made my way up to Los Alamos to spend time with my aunt, uncle, cousin and my relatives who I had only heard stories of before this year. They were so welcoming, I truly felt like I was with family the entire time I was there. The games of pounce and mafia, the watching of Doctor Who and Sherlock for several days gave me the touch of home I needed, not having seen my immediate family in 6 months. Spending time with the wonderful family that I have made me so very humbled and grateful that I have the opportunity to be cared for in such a way. I truly, truly felt blessed this Christmas and I am sorry that it took me so long to write about it.
There is still a lot of the year that has to be covered, but I don't think I have the skill to teleport us from Christmas to June in one evening's worth of writing. There has been a lot to cover and the next two months will take care of themselves. However, I will try to do the rest of the year justice in its own time before the end. It will be a way to give praise for the experiences that have happened and to give closure to the pitfalls.
But, enough for tonight.
Saturday, November 2, 2013
I'm not a Genie
I was thinking about a good metaphor for the part of my job that struggle with the most the other day when I had a real tough day. Then a line from Aladdin came from me and I decided that sometimes I feel like a genie! (Yeah, I know this sounds strange, but hear me out.) When I finally thought of it, the humor of it helped me get through the next couple of hours at least. I don't think I'm a genie in the phenominal cosmic power sort of way, but more of a "you must make a wish before I can do anything for you", restricted sort of way.
Part of my job this year has involved being a Pathways Navigator, a job description that entails a lot of case management, sometimes bordering on social work, which, in the great tradition of JVC, is something that I felt thoroughly unprepared for. Now, even after being at it for almost 3 months, it is definitely the part of my position that I find the most challenging and I've felt over my head several times when meeting with clients with exceedingly complex problems.
So, in a nutshell, how the Pathways program works is I do a Risk Assessment with someone who has been referred to the program, usually by the lawyers with whom I work, so many of my clients are Spanish speaking immigrants. The Risk Assessment is designed to identify and reach out to the most vulnerable and disconnected members of the community, particularly those struggling in multiple areas (i.e. in need of housing, medical attention, education, dental work, etc.) Many times I have had to turn a client away who had multiple issues, but, to put it bluntly, simply weren't in enough trouble to qualify for the program. Despising being the bearer of bad news, I think this is almost as difficult for me to say as it is for the person to hear. So, when I can tell someone that we're able to help them, that alone is a win in my book. . . they found the magic lamp and rubbed it and . . . poof, the genie appears to fix all their problems. . . if only it were so simple.
So, if we're playing by this metaphor, next come the three wishes . . . which plays in perfectly to the three official "pathways" (resolving issues) with which we can help a client. Now obviously my restrictions are a bit more practical and realistic than those of the genie from Aladdin. His only limitations were, if I recall correctly "#1 I can't make anyone fall in love with anybody else. #2 I can't kill people. #3 I can't bring people back from the dead. It's not a pretty picture, I don't like doing it . . . but other than that, you got it." Sometimes I feel like that's what a client hears when I say that I'll do my best to help them in any way I can. I, on the other hand, have more binding restrictions. For example, as a representative of a legal organization I can't officially help anyone without documents to obtain work (aka work "illegally"), I have to play by the rules of the system, I can't make things go faster even in an urgent situation and, most frustrating of all, I can only help clients as much as they are willing to help them selves and allow themselves to be helped. Obviously, I am not magical, all powerful, or even in control of the situation, something which has infuriated me on more than one occasion during the short time I've been here.
I recently have been working with two clients who have been very stressful in different ways. The first is a survivor of domestic violence and an immigrant who is currently in the process of getting papers. She was formerly a client at a sister organization, but she stopped services there so she was referred to me about 8 months later, desperate for a job and enough food to sustain her and her 6 children. 1st problem of note, I'm not a job developer and there's only so much I can do in that situation. Since beginning to work with her about a month ago she has had several obstacles in her way, including her car breaking down (this genie's pretty useless at fixing that), being uninsured and without a license, her phone broke so she could only receive texts and the food bank agency she went to wouldn't take her foreign id. One day I spent several hours with her, trying to get her an id. and documents for her legal case (one I hadn't dealt with before, so I was figuring out on the fly what the attorney needed us to get.) We were successful in one task, but not the other because after me driving to the DMV, back to the office to get her, back to her house to get cash, she forgot her foreign picture id at home, not realizing this until we were almost ready for our (late) appointment). As she searched for it in her bag, she seemed to look to me to set everything right, which I simply couldn't. I had no power to make all the documents we needed appear. Despite muddling through a couple of situations with her, she thanked me and things are looking up.
It just so happened that same trip I ran into one of my other clients. As I stood at the police records department I was having simultaneous conversations in English and Spanish, one client desperately wanting my help, the other lashing out verbally at anyone who would try to help him. This man is currently experiencing homelessness and, if he were willing to help himself, he could have his own home tomorrow. Since I started working with him 2 months ago he has been a project, more interested in attacking what he sees as a bureacratic, unjust system that has wronged him one time too many, than stepping up to the plate and helping himself get where he needs to be. This past Wednesday I had what might be my last meeting with him and, suffice it to say, it did not go well. As I was trying to logically talk him through his housing options, he accused me of being thoroughly unhelpful and of having an interest in helping the system violate his rights. He investigated my salary, thinking the government was spying on him and, after nearly an hour, we both left unsatisfied. I told him I would be there if he wanted my help again, but that it seemed he was more interested in picking fights than helping himself. I'm still struggling through this situation, since seeing someone in so much need who could be helped, but is unwilling to do what he needs to do, is one of the most frustrating things I have ever seen.
So, there you have it. Clear evidence that I'm not a genie and that I'm learning the lesson that so many things, from mistakes to client's attitudes, are beyond my control. Maybe that sense of lack of control is the very end of the metaphor, a little Aladdin moment of setting my ego and Messiah complex free. It's the knowing that I can't do everything for everyone, but in that I can do something.
Part of my job this year has involved being a Pathways Navigator, a job description that entails a lot of case management, sometimes bordering on social work, which, in the great tradition of JVC, is something that I felt thoroughly unprepared for. Now, even after being at it for almost 3 months, it is definitely the part of my position that I find the most challenging and I've felt over my head several times when meeting with clients with exceedingly complex problems.
So, in a nutshell, how the Pathways program works is I do a Risk Assessment with someone who has been referred to the program, usually by the lawyers with whom I work, so many of my clients are Spanish speaking immigrants. The Risk Assessment is designed to identify and reach out to the most vulnerable and disconnected members of the community, particularly those struggling in multiple areas (i.e. in need of housing, medical attention, education, dental work, etc.) Many times I have had to turn a client away who had multiple issues, but, to put it bluntly, simply weren't in enough trouble to qualify for the program. Despising being the bearer of bad news, I think this is almost as difficult for me to say as it is for the person to hear. So, when I can tell someone that we're able to help them, that alone is a win in my book. . . they found the magic lamp and rubbed it and . . . poof, the genie appears to fix all their problems. . . if only it were so simple.
So, if we're playing by this metaphor, next come the three wishes . . . which plays in perfectly to the three official "pathways" (resolving issues) with which we can help a client. Now obviously my restrictions are a bit more practical and realistic than those of the genie from Aladdin. His only limitations were, if I recall correctly "#1 I can't make anyone fall in love with anybody else. #2 I can't kill people. #3 I can't bring people back from the dead. It's not a pretty picture, I don't like doing it . . . but other than that, you got it." Sometimes I feel like that's what a client hears when I say that I'll do my best to help them in any way I can. I, on the other hand, have more binding restrictions. For example, as a representative of a legal organization I can't officially help anyone without documents to obtain work (aka work "illegally"), I have to play by the rules of the system, I can't make things go faster even in an urgent situation and, most frustrating of all, I can only help clients as much as they are willing to help them selves and allow themselves to be helped. Obviously, I am not magical, all powerful, or even in control of the situation, something which has infuriated me on more than one occasion during the short time I've been here.
I recently have been working with two clients who have been very stressful in different ways. The first is a survivor of domestic violence and an immigrant who is currently in the process of getting papers. She was formerly a client at a sister organization, but she stopped services there so she was referred to me about 8 months later, desperate for a job and enough food to sustain her and her 6 children. 1st problem of note, I'm not a job developer and there's only so much I can do in that situation. Since beginning to work with her about a month ago she has had several obstacles in her way, including her car breaking down (this genie's pretty useless at fixing that), being uninsured and without a license, her phone broke so she could only receive texts and the food bank agency she went to wouldn't take her foreign id. One day I spent several hours with her, trying to get her an id. and documents for her legal case (one I hadn't dealt with before, so I was figuring out on the fly what the attorney needed us to get.) We were successful in one task, but not the other because after me driving to the DMV, back to the office to get her, back to her house to get cash, she forgot her foreign picture id at home, not realizing this until we were almost ready for our (late) appointment). As she searched for it in her bag, she seemed to look to me to set everything right, which I simply couldn't. I had no power to make all the documents we needed appear. Despite muddling through a couple of situations with her, she thanked me and things are looking up.
It just so happened that same trip I ran into one of my other clients. As I stood at the police records department I was having simultaneous conversations in English and Spanish, one client desperately wanting my help, the other lashing out verbally at anyone who would try to help him. This man is currently experiencing homelessness and, if he were willing to help himself, he could have his own home tomorrow. Since I started working with him 2 months ago he has been a project, more interested in attacking what he sees as a bureacratic, unjust system that has wronged him one time too many, than stepping up to the plate and helping himself get where he needs to be. This past Wednesday I had what might be my last meeting with him and, suffice it to say, it did not go well. As I was trying to logically talk him through his housing options, he accused me of being thoroughly unhelpful and of having an interest in helping the system violate his rights. He investigated my salary, thinking the government was spying on him and, after nearly an hour, we both left unsatisfied. I told him I would be there if he wanted my help again, but that it seemed he was more interested in picking fights than helping himself. I'm still struggling through this situation, since seeing someone in so much need who could be helped, but is unwilling to do what he needs to do, is one of the most frustrating things I have ever seen.
So, there you have it. Clear evidence that I'm not a genie and that I'm learning the lesson that so many things, from mistakes to client's attitudes, are beyond my control. Maybe that sense of lack of control is the very end of the metaphor, a little Aladdin moment of setting my ego and Messiah complex free. It's the knowing that I can't do everything for everyone, but in that I can do something.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
ABQ, the first 2 months.
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.
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.
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.
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