Just Let the Words Fall Out

So, the past week, though so enlightening, hasn't been easy. Silent retreat was exhausting, and we returned to find out that one of our roommates has decided to leave JVC. It was a really hard decision for her, but ultimately the right one, and I'm nothing but proud of her for making it.

It was obviously very difficult for our community to see her go, but we are trying to keep on keeping on. Some of us spent the weekend in San Antonio for Fiesta, a huge festival. It was a blast- but very damp. It POURED rain... we took cover under a bridge on the riverwalk, and despite the inclement weather and the parade ultimately being canceled, being with the San Antonio and Austin JVs made it worth it.

Our house dynamic is tricky now that we're down one, and we aren't really processing it well, but we're continuing to do our work. That's why we're here, right? Today is the feast of St. Catherine of Siena, who many know I refer to as "my girl." She was a Dominican sister (awesome in its own right), and was named Doctor of the Church, the first woman to receive this honor. She did a lot of work to restore the Church during the schism and is credited with bringing Pope Gregory back to Rome from Avignon. She was a theologian and philosopher, and was awesome. She lived the Dominican ideal of finding the real truth, and she's my favorite saint (and patron saint from my Confirmation!).

I've been thinking a lot about her in the past few days. She's reminding me to be brave and keep trying to heal my community and give my all to my kids. This new Sara Barielles song came out last week... perfectly timed. I think St. Catherine would like it, and I'd say it's my new theme song, in case you were worried.

And just like it always is...

NOLA was just what I needed. All of Louisiana was, really. I left Houston on Saturday with a heavy heart, mourning for Boston and my friends whose lives have been so seriously altered. I returned last night refreshed and calm, even though I'd had a very emotional week. Louisiana is good to me that way.

As I drove down I-10 and entered that gorgeous city, I was reminded of hope and resiliency. This place that had gone through so much tragedy was doing just fine. Sure, there are a lot of lasting problems that still remain from the hurricane, but the spirit of the city is back, and stronger than ever. In fact, I'm not sure it ever left. This made me feel calmer: Boston, a city of tough people, will recover. They will be fine. They will run the marathon next year, and it will be beautiful.

The weekend was filled with amazing food, beautiful people, great music, and a lot of fun. JVs are some of the best people in the world, and the 30something of us who were gathered together in the NOLA houses were happily squished. The boys from South Dakota, the girls from Phoenix, people from Austin, San Antonio, and Mobile were all there, as well as our house, the two NOLA houses, and the other Houston house.It's so rare that we all get to spend time together, and having a weekend of fun to enjoy each others' company was so much fun.

One of the best parts of my time in NOLA was being able to share the city I'm so passionate about with my community and fellow JVs. Over different parts of the weekend, I took friends to get po'boys at Parkway Bakery, on a tour of the Lower Ninth Ward, and to Cafe du Monde and the French Quarter. We stumbled upon a second line parade that lead us to a giant Earth Day festival on Sunday, and I remembered why I decided to be a JV in the first place.

In the Lower Ninth, I took my community and the girls from Phoenix to the Lower Ninth Ward Village, an incredible community center set up after the storm that is run by locals- the people who know best what their community needs. Mack, the man who founded the village, has an incredible story, one that is at the roots of why I love NOLA. When we pulled up in front of the former auto body shop, we were greeted with open arms. Even though we weren't there to volunteer, Mack spent an hour with us sharing his story and showing us his project. I felt so blessed to be able to return to this place of resiliency and hope, and for my community members to gain a bit more of an understanding of why I feel the way I do about NOLA.

We got to spend a lot of time with the boys of the South Dakota (SoDak) community, which was also so restoring. They have what I believe are the most challenging positions in JVC- they live on a reservation in St. Francis, SD, working with the Lakota tribe. They are overworked and exhausted, sometimes frustrated, but so full of life. They have an isolating placement and do so many different kinds of jobs- anything that might be needed, they do, including radio DJ. They were very happy to have some time with other JVs, and their stories and amazing spirits were so wonderfully shared. Two of them will be on the East Coast next year- one in PA and the other in DC- I can't wait to hang out with them more!

On Monday, we left the Lower Ninth Ward and headed to our retreat in Convent, LA, about an hour from NOLA. We arrived to the gorgeous old plantation and got to spend time with the JVs who didn't make the trek to NOLA for the weekend, enjoyed a delicious dinner, and then we entered into silence.

The retreat was a "preached" retreat, which meant that we had a series of short talks each day that we attended, and then were guided in personal prayer. The grounds of Manresa, the retreat center named for Ignatius Loyola's own retreat into a cave near the town of Manresa, Spain, were stunning. Ancient live oaks were lined all over the property, which abutted the Mississippi River. I was able to pray and reflect in the sunshine of the gardens, in my room, in the gorgeous chapel, and in runs along the levee next to the river.

The silence was beautiful. It was so nice to have some time to think and pray and really be by myself- something I never get to do as a JV, except in the car. I had been really working at my relationship with God over the past few weeks, but this retreat was what helped the most. When I spent time in Kenya, a lot of that time was spent in prayer. I was able to pray in community with the Dominicans, and the combination of that prayer and my service was a perfect balance. I returned feeling grounded and loved, and I felt that way again while at Manresa.

I was able to connect to God so well, and I had a lot of time to pray contemplatively, something very Ignatian. This is when one reads a passage from scripture and really imagines themselves in the passage- what was it like to be there? I had a lot of reflection on Christ's love, His humanity, and His sacrifice, and it has given me much to think about in my final few months of JVC. I was able to reflect on sin, and how and why I want to do better. I have gained new insights into myself and who I am called to be, and the choices I will make after this year is over.

While on retreat I had ample time for reading. Much of this time was spent with scripture, but I also read "A Jesuit Off Broadway," a great book by Fr. Jim Martin, SJ. He spent time with the cast of the Public Theatre's The Last Days of Judas Escariot, and his reflections on working with actos, their relationships with God, the making of the play, and the connection between acting and prayer really helped me to dig deeper into prayer. He put into words the connection I've always felt, and I'd highly recommend the book to anyone, especially those who are theatrically inclined.

Driving back yesterday, I was filled with peace. I am tired, but happy, and ready to conquer the last quarter of this year.

Stuck in Reverse

I have been trying to find words since Monday afternoon. It's been hard to explain how I'm feeling, but I think that "heavy" is the best adjective I can come up with. While I'm not from Boston, and I didn't go to school in Boston, I feel like I know more people who live there and call it home than people in Philadelphia.

My Monday afternoon was spent frantically texting and calling all of my friends who were spending their day off celebrating at Marathon Monday, what I know is one of the most fun days of the year. Many of my best friends from college live and work in Boston, the heart and soul of New England. I was in a trance, pulling up CNN.com and watching the live stream of the finish line, going to the gym but not really running, just watching the news coverage.

Luckily, I spent Monday night among friends. There had been plans for a little gathering at Kate and McKenzie's apartment on Monday, and while they thought about canceling, they decided to carry on, and that was the best medicine. Good food, good friends, and many laughs can fix anything, even if it's temporary. Kate, a BC alum, knew how I was feeling, only more. I can't even imagine how I would react to such a tragic event in my home away from home of Providence, and I could tell that her heart was aching for Boston.

As is mine. While Monday night was a good distraction for me, coming to school on Tuesday morning was eerie. We prayed as a school for all those affected, but everyone here for the most part is so separated from the East Coast that they don't understand the repercussions. They don't know people in Boston. Many of them have never been to Boston, and don't really understand how big the marathon is. They haven't ever interacted with Sox fans, and they don't understand how proud Bostonians are.

Being around people who weren't reacting was hard- it was good to check in with Kate every once and a while, and thank God, our friends are all safe. As the days have gone on, I've learned of connections to two of the three people who lost their lives. The 29 year old woman was a friend's boss, and the 8 year old boy was the brother of an Irish dancer, a girl who lost a leg in the explosion. Jane, the dancer, was a student of one of the PC Irish Dance girls at a prestigious dance academy in Massachusetts.

The response from the Irish Dance community, both at PC and all over the world, is astounding. There is an organization that is making a t-shirt quilt (or probably several at this point) for Jane, made of Irish Dance school t-shirts that are being sent from all over the world. PCID and other Irish Dance orgs from New England colleges are hosting a dance-out next Friday to raise money for the family. I have never been so proud to be a PCID alum.

So yes, the response is beautiful. The first responders are amazing, as are the doctors and nurses working around the clock to heal people. Everyone, it seems, wants to help Boston. Kelly, a good friend from PC, works in City Hall in Boston. She has told me about the beautiful gestures of kindness she's witnessed (and taken part in herself), but also about the scary responses, specifically the Westboro "Baptist Church." Now, they don't really deserve anyone's time, and I'm not going to waste mine about how infuriating they are, but they're a presence in the city, and they shouldn't be.

I have been encouraged by stories of runners continuing on straight to Mass Gen to donate blood, seen the video of the National Anthem at the Bruins game, and Stephen Colbert's wise words (Boston was founded by the pilgrims- a people who were so tough that they had to buckle their goddamn hats on), but I can't help but ask why.

I don't have an answer, and I know that no one does. I was even more infuriated with the Senate when they didn't pass a bill requiring background checks for weapons. We see disasters like Sandy Hook and the Boston bombings, all rooted in terrible violence, and then we give in to the bullies at the NRA? When 92% of Americans support stronger background checks?!

Gabby Giffords said it best.

"Speaking is physically difficult for me. But my feelings are clear: I’m furious. I will not rest until we have righted the wrong these senators have done, and until we have changed our laws so we can look parents in the face and say: We are trying to keep your children safe. We cannot allow the status quo — desperately protected by the gun lobby so that they can make more money by spreading fear and misinformation — to go on." (Read her whole op-ed here.)

I realize that I haven't written about my Kairos experience yet, and I know that this post is getting lengthy, but I can't ignore the connections. One of the student leaders gave a talk that has changed my world. 

He has two older brothers, both of whom joined a gang, a completely normal choice in urban Houston for a Mexican teenage boy. One of them was on a "tag team," which means that he and his partner went out and tagged (graffiti-ed) the gang's symbols. My student's brother's partner wanted out of the gang, and really turned his life around. He got a job as a mural artist in LA, and during the process, became a real mentor to my student. He was more of a brother than any biological brother had been. LA was great, and my student's mentor came home for a visit in September.

He called the house to let my student know that surprise, he was just getting gas around the corner, and would be over for a visit soon. My student described watching his mother on the phone with his mentor, and how filled with joy she was that he would be over soon. Suddenly, her face changed. She put down the phone, picked up her keys, and ran to the car. My student followed, and despite his questions, his mother was silent. Until they got to the gas station.

My student got out of the car to find his mentor dead next to his car, shot in a drive-by, a repercussion of coming back to Houston, where he had been a member of the "wrong gang." 

In a place where boys are literally born into these gangs because of family ties, where they have no choice other than fight or die, they are forced into gun violence. 

This was a reminder of why I'm here- I'm not a teacher, I am here to be Christ to these students who have been so broken by a cycle of poverty and violence.
I can't prevent what happened to my student's mentor or the terrible acts of violence in Boston, but I can try to break the cycle of violence with my students now. I can TRY to fix them.

In Transition

Over the past few weeks (and years), I have been in transition. I know this is something I've written about before, but the past few weeks it's been practically shoved in my face.

I have been off and on planes, flown all across the eastern half of the country, and driven all around East Texas. Upon each return to Houston, I have unpacked a suitcase only to repack it and take off again. Last night, I unpacked in Houston for what seems to be the last time.

I'm in the final third of JVC... it's completely surreal. Where did this year go? I only have about 6 more instruction weeks left with my students, (28 more pre-6 AM wake ups, but who's counting?)and then a summer with a very different feel to it. I'll be tutoring summer school from 8:30-12:30, and then remaining at school for a few hours to help out administratively. It will be a HUGE change of pace- no more lesson plans, very minimal grading, and a lot more sleep.

I won't lie... I'm looking forward to it. I know that this is the home stretch of the hard work, and I'm trying to remain focused on my work and my students, but the dreams of summer don't escape you once you move from student to teacher.

As I'm focusing on my work, I'm also applying for jobs! I have one resume and cover letter in, and I'm working on two more... there is one position that I REALLY want, and I hope to have my application submitted on Monday! It's exciting for sure, but the application season couldn't have worse timing. Just as I'm refocusing and planning for the rest of the semester, I am also having to spend time focusing on adjusting my resume and writing cover letters. It feels like finals season all over again!

I have a lot to balance right now, but I feel a great sense of peace. I was happy to return to Houston this time, and especially to return to a sense of routine and normalcy. I really do miss my students while I'm gone, and I'm happy to be settled in with them for the next 2 months.

So while I'm back and settled in, I'm still in transition. I have to be thinking about the next step while I'm thinking about my work here. It's overwhelming, but not the hardest thing I've ever done. I just have to keep on trucking through... 8 weeks until summer!