Disparities

I am recently noticing in myself a tendency towards frustration with students and some of the kids that I work with. When I am working one-on-one with GED students, or one-on-five with kids, it is easy to get annoyed with hyperactivity, lack of knowledge, lateness, and inconsistency in showing up. It is easy to forget about the systems and institutions that are behind so many of the behaviors and values of the inner city.

And then I look at my GED student, who is choosing to pursue education in spite of hardship like lack of resources, lack of transportation, and difficulties with academics. I think about how by the time I was her age (18), I had already completed 13 years of private school, including a college prep high school.

I grew up with parents and family members who supported me and paid for SAT classes and provided for all my needs. I lived in a neighborhood where I could walk around at night without fear of violence, and news of shootings were rare to non-existant.

I think of one of the other kids who stopped by the house today. He is a 12 year old who acts too tough around the other guys, but is innocent, curious, even sweet when it's just him. He listed his recent family troubles- cousin who was hiding out got caught and sent to jail, another cousin recently shot and killed, another cousin killed in a car crash from driving drunk.

(A couple minutes later, he looked at me earnestly, and asked, "So...what do you think about werewolves?" introducing it as an intellectual subject for debate.)

And then I think about my 13 year old brother, just a year older, who has never had to face any of these things that my young Harrisburg friend lists off so nonchalantly. He spends the summer at the lake, plays sports with his friends, goes to the beach with my family.

There is something wrong with this picture.

But how do we get to the bottom of this? How do we confront the disparities that are so deeply rooted in our society and in our world?

My prayer is that I will continue to engage these questions in my life, and that I would live my life seeking answers to these questions.

(P.S. I just finished the book Mountains Beyond Mountains, by Tracy Kidder. Great book, and an amazing example of someone, Dr. Paul Farmer, who lives radically in tension with the above questions!)

Mothering God

A long overdue post (between trips to Guatemala, Belize, and exotic places like Nebraska and New Jersey, I've been out of touch)!

Here are the words to the song "Mothering God," all the way back from May:

Mothering God, you gave me birth, in the bright morning of this world.

Creator, source of every breath, you are my rain, my wind, my sun.

Mothering Christ, you took my form, offering me your food of light,

Grain of life, and grape of love, your very body for my peace.

Mothering Spirit, nurturing one, in arms of patience hold me close,

Go that in faith I root and grow until I flow'r, until I know.

(Jean Janzen, based on the writings of Juliana of Norwich, 15th Century)

Also, a link that describes some of the background of this hymn, which has been somewhat controversial:

http://www.umportal.org/article.asp?id=5704

Belated Mother's Day

On Mother’s Day, Josh and I went to the alternative worship service at Market Square Presbyterian Church. Though I have only been a few times, I always leave those services feeling full, contemplative, with more insight into my relationship with God and others.

This time, the focus was on God as our mother, adapted from Julian of Norwich, a French mystic. The pastor asked us to think about a woman who has had a large impact in our lives. I am blessed; several women popped into my mind- from my aunts, to my high school youth pastor, to my college pastor, to the 6 amazing women I lived with last year in D.C. But my mom was the strongest, the most consistent, and so I chose to focus on her. She was the one who carried me into this world and continually prayed with and for me, taught me daily lessons about faith, helped me to “write scripture on my heart.” We were told to call out words that described the women in our lives, and I thought of words such as “prayerful,” “loving,” “direct,” “honest,” “strong.” We contemplated how these words and many more are characteristics of God as well. This was very touching and beautiful, and afterwards we shared our reflections and sang some beautiful songs.

I have often heard people in the Church say that your relationship with your father has a huge impact on how you see and relate to God. There is no doubt that my ability to view God as a generous, loving father comes from my earthly dad. However, I am not sure I have heard anyone say that about mothers. But what I realized is that my mom has profoundly shaped my relationship with God, and how I see God. My mom has had a direct impact on my view of a loving, strong, honest, nurturing God who thinks the world of me.

I will follow up with a beautiful hymn based on the words of Julian of Norwich...

Guilt

I had a chat with a professor this week, who gently confronted me about a comment I'd made in a paper. I had said something about how at times, I felt guilty about my privileged upbringing, how I was raised in a nice house in a nice suburban town, where most, if not all of my wants and needs were met. This reality is drastically different from many of the kids and adults I've worked with in the past several years who do not have the privileges I have had. When faced with these two polar opposite realities, part of my making sense of them has included some feelings of guilt.

So my professor basically reminded me that I am who I am because of my background- my strong, loving family has given me the support and foundation I need to accomplish the things I have been put in this world to accomplish. And of course, the old "to whom much is given, much is expected."

I think it is easy for me, and many like me, to fall into guilt, and then cynicism about our backgrounds, about our race, about our privileges, about anything at all. I do feel that some guilt is part of the process of coming to terms with realities in a broken, messed up world. Guilt can also be a motivating factor to make changes in ourselves and in our world. But it can't stop there.

Guilt can't sustain us, it can only get us so far. In the end, it really just gets in the way. It can become a barrier between us and the people we want to love, the people who are different from us.

At some point, I think we have to mature out of that guilt. We have to come to terms with our background (the good and the bad) as part of who we are. I admit that I am not totally there yet, but that's okay. It's a journey, right?

Ranting...

I am feeling a little frustrated right now about my role, in social work, in the Joshua Group, in the Allison Hill community. Or maybe confused is the right word. I work and live in this community, but it is clear that I am not from here and I don’t belong. I am different- the way I walk, the way I dress, the way I talk, the color of my skin. Even though I have worked in this community for over 3 years, I don’t think I will ever quite belong.

So I wonder what my role is. There is a lot of need here, and especially with the kids. The kids need people to care; they need role models. But they need to see people who look like them. They need to see black and Latino men and women as their role models, as people they can look up to. They need to see adults from their own community who understand them like I will never quite be able to.

I am a white woman from a privileged background, so what is my role? I care deeply about this community and about the kids. I have education and skills. But what is my role? Should I even be here? If not here, where? My community of Upper Montclair, NJ doesn’t have needs the way this community does. I don’t feel “called” to be there; I don’t fit in there either. I don't think that I should necessarily abandon all my efforts in H-burg, just because of my background and the color of my skin...

Throughout college I have learned a lot about oppression, racism, and studied the history of injustice in our country. As a white woman of privilege, I need to do something about it. I want to join people in the struggle against oppression, not take over or lead that struggle, thus disempowering people. I just don’t know how to do that practically. What does that mean in everyday life, in a world of racial and class lines?

And what about the Joshua Group, which is doing a lot of good things, but is an organization with mostly white staff members serving mostly black youth. Does that just reinforce the unequal power issues that are already there? How do we join black men and women in working towards justice, without taking power away? When we send children to private school, are we giving them hope and opportunities, or are we just taking them further out of their communities? There are not many black or Latino teachers in the Catholic schools, as least that I have seen.

So what did Jesus do? Jesus lived incarnationally. He was God, and yet he was a man born into an oppressed people group, a poor community, to an unwed mother! How radical is that?! But he built bridges between rich and poor, tax collecters and royalty, Samaritans and Hebrews. Jesus stayed in his own community, but also traveled to many other communities and made connections there, freeing people from various forms of oppression, calling them to follow him.

How can I build bridges, help to free people without oppressing them, calling people to follow God by the way I live?

I love social work, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t necessarily just want to be a caseworker, a therapist, an administrator, or a policy advocate (not that there is anything wrong with those roles). I want to be involved in innovative, maybe even radical ways to counter the injustice in our society, to help free those in captivity, to help the blind to see, the lame to walk…all that crazy stuff that Jesus did! I want to build bridges between people, I want to love people, I want to live with them, even when things are messy and difficult. I don’t want to always be so cautious and put these huge boundaries in between me and the rest of the world, just because I have a degree. Sure, some boundaries are necessary, but I don’t want to be so obsessed with protecting myself that I lose sight of shared humanity. I know, I am oozing with idealism, but that is where I am!

So what is God calling me to do about all this?

A lenten decision

As Lent approached, I found myself with a long list of things I could (and should) do or give up. As I pondered this further, a theme emerged for me. I have often given into the cultural value of immediate gratification- getting what I want, when I want it. Therefore, my Lenten intention is going to be a little different this year. I am going to challenge myself on my buying habits. Since I started grad school, I often rationalize purchases- a coffee here, a piece of pizza there. "I'm so busy, tired, stressed...fill-in-the-blank, I deserve this!" I say to myself.
So throughout this Lent, rather than making a black and white rule for myself on purchasing, I am choosing to be thoughtful and intentional about buying stuff. Whenever I feel the desire to get a cup of coffee, or a new pair of boots, I am going to stop and journal/reflect about my desire. Instead of dealing with my own feelings of stress or fatigue, and owning them, am I just doing something to block those feelings out? I also want to think about where the product might come from, who might be harmed in the process of making it or getting it to me, what other costs are there to a latte, besides the $4.00 I pay for it? Costs to the environment, to workers, to myself? Maybe I'll get some research done too.

During this Lent, may we be challenged to go deeper in our relationship with God, depending on God alone, rather than things, and even people, around us. Amen.

Snow Snow SNOW!

In light of the double blizzard that has graced us with its presence lately, I would like to share a list of the things I love about snow:

1. It brings people together!

I have met more of my neighbors in the past week than I have in the first 6 months I have lived in my house. I have seen the most adorable kids come out of the houses nearby and play in the snow, and thoroughly enjoy the small snowman my roommate Ekta made. As I walked through the streets in areas that I usually avoid walking alone, people smiled and greeted me, "How're you doing?" And we both shook our heads at the power of nature as we shoveled our cars out of the snow and ice.

2. The preparation brings panic- a fun kind of panic!

My mom and I were cracking up on the phone the day before the 1st "snow event" (as it was appropriately called by someone on some radio show somewhere). People run to the grocery store, desperate to get their bread and milk to help them survive whatever nature might throw their way. Because as long as we have milk and bread, we know we can make it through.

3. It slows down the normally frantic pace of life

Instead of my usual rushing from work to school to homework to chores to class, I had to slow down. We all had to slow down. At the Joshua House, we spent at least 2 days watching movies, reading, baking, making and eating delicious food. We didn't have to rush around, in fact, we couldn't if we had wanted to. We were stuck- in the best way possible!

4. It makes us all a little more equal.

We are all subject to the whims of the snowstorm. Rich or poor, young or old, you still have to dig your car out of the snow (well, I guess you could pay someone to do it, but anyway...). We all step out of our houses and slip on the ice. The roads and highways are closed for all of us, we are all stuck. Somehow, all this snow levels the playing field a bit.

5. It's beautiful!

Whether you hate snow or love it, you have to admit, there is nothing like the snow falling on a winter day. There is nothing like the pristine white snow the day after a big storm, when the sun comes out and the sky is a bright blue. Everything looks so pure, so innocent. Even unsightly objects, such as a garbage can, somehow look beautiful covered in snow and glinting in the sunlight.

Yes, it's true, even when I am grumbling about the fact that there is still 5 inches of packed down snow and ice on my road, even when I almost hit a parked car because of it, I really like snow. A lot.