Friday, December 17, 2010
well behaved women seldom make history
http://www.glamour.com/women-of-the-year/2010/dr-hawa-abdi-and-her-daughters
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
As the sun shines magnificently through the paper snowflakes haphazardly taped to the glass blocks of Isaiah House's westernmost wall I can't help but be overwhelmed by this amazing sanctuary for those experiencing mental illnesses.
As Ms. Shirley walks through the door, smelling of urine, wearing sweatpants tucked into her baseball socks, three hats, and a couple of hooded sweatshirts, the only disturbing thing about her appearance to the other Isaiah House participants is her swollen and bloodied finger. Ms. Debra calls up to my office, not to inform me that Ms. Shirley needs to bathe, but that she needs a doctor.
Isaiah House has introduced me to the most beautiful people. People who are often overlooked and even considered expendable. People who wave and call out my name as I bike down Georgia Avenue, or stop and chat with me in line at the MLK library, or come sit in my office and keep me up to date on current events.
The Isaiah House community has taught me that it's not scary to share a meal with someone who mutters and mumbles under their breath to no one in particular; it's actually a moment spent with Christ. They have taught me that the only thing disgusting about a man sitting in the bathroom, too drunk to pull himself off the floor, wearing clothes full of holes, is that he doesn't have clothes WITHOUT holes, or a place to go once the sun starts setting, and that he is probably drinking so that he won't be aware of that.
My supervisors, Jamie and Joy, have pushed me to do everything that I can for anyone who walks through the glass doors of this place. Meeting someone where they’re at and serving them to the best of our ability is what we are here to do. Jamie told me once that it doesn't matter whether something that someone says is real or not. What matters is that whatever they say is THEIR reality. What matters is that what they feel is real.
As Ms. Shirley walks through the door, smelling of urine, wearing sweatpants tucked into her baseball socks, three hats, and a couple of hooded sweatshirts, the only disturbing thing about her appearance to the other Isaiah House participants is her swollen and bloodied finger. Ms. Debra calls up to my office, not to inform me that Ms. Shirley needs to bathe, but that she needs a doctor.
Isaiah House has introduced me to the most beautiful people. People who are often overlooked and even considered expendable. People who wave and call out my name as I bike down Georgia Avenue, or stop and chat with me in line at the MLK library, or come sit in my office and keep me up to date on current events.
The Isaiah House community has taught me that it's not scary to share a meal with someone who mutters and mumbles under their breath to no one in particular; it's actually a moment spent with Christ. They have taught me that the only thing disgusting about a man sitting in the bathroom, too drunk to pull himself off the floor, wearing clothes full of holes, is that he doesn't have clothes WITHOUT holes, or a place to go once the sun starts setting, and that he is probably drinking so that he won't be aware of that.
My supervisors, Jamie and Joy, have pushed me to do everything that I can for anyone who walks through the glass doors of this place. Meeting someone where they’re at and serving them to the best of our ability is what we are here to do. Jamie told me once that it doesn't matter whether something that someone says is real or not. What matters is that whatever they say is THEIR reality. What matters is that what they feel is real.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The Low Road by Marge Piercy
What can they do
to you? Whatever they want.
They can set you up, they can
bust you, they can break
your fingers, they can
burn your brain with electricity,
blur you with drugs till you
can t walk, can’t remember, they can
take your child, wall up
your lover. They can do anything
you can’t blame them
from doing. How can you stop
them? Alone, you can fight,
you can refuse, you can
take what revenge you can
but they roll over you.
But two people fighting
back to back can cut through
a mob, a snake-dancing file
can break a cordon, an army
can meet an army.
Two people can keep each other
sane, can give support, conviction,
love, massage, hope, sex.
Three people are a delegation,
a committee, a wedge. With four
you can play bridge and start
an organisation. With six
you can rent a whole house,
eat pie for dinner with no
seconds, and hold a fund raising party.
A dozen make a demonstration.
A hundred fill a hall.
A thousand have solidarity and your own newsletter;
ten thousand, power and your own paper;
a hundred thousand, your own media;
ten million, your own country.
It goes on one at a time,
it starts when you care
to act, it starts when you do
it again after they said no,
it starts when you say We
and know who you mean, and each
day you mean one more.
to you? Whatever they want.
They can set you up, they can
bust you, they can break
your fingers, they can
burn your brain with electricity,
blur you with drugs till you
can t walk, can’t remember, they can
take your child, wall up
your lover. They can do anything
you can’t blame them
from doing. How can you stop
them? Alone, you can fight,
you can refuse, you can
take what revenge you can
but they roll over you.
But two people fighting
back to back can cut through
a mob, a snake-dancing file
can break a cordon, an army
can meet an army.
Two people can keep each other
sane, can give support, conviction,
love, massage, hope, sex.
Three people are a delegation,
a committee, a wedge. With four
you can play bridge and start
an organisation. With six
you can rent a whole house,
eat pie for dinner with no
seconds, and hold a fund raising party.
A dozen make a demonstration.
A hundred fill a hall.
A thousand have solidarity and your own newsletter;
ten thousand, power and your own paper;
a hundred thousand, your own media;
ten million, your own country.
It goes on one at a time,
it starts when you care
to act, it starts when you do
it again after they said no,
it starts when you say We
and know who you mean, and each
day you mean one more.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
I was prepared to change the world.
I know it sounds egotistical, but during the summer of 2009, right after I had graduated from school, I was ready to change the world. And I knew that that’s what I would be doing.
I was prepared to change the world.
I knew that I was going to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless, and comfort the sad. I had this amazing privilege that would allow me to single-handedly fix everyone’s problems.
I was prepared to change the world.
But…
I was completely prepared for the wrong thing.
I didn’t expect my heart to be broken time and time again, by the structural injustices that perpetuate marginalization, prejudice, racism, and stigmatization.
I was supposed to be the one doing the fixing, not the one being broken.
I wasn’t supposed to feel helpless and uncomfortable and vulnerable.
Remember, I was going to change the world!
I was supposed to be around for a year,
mend some wounds,
bring some joy,
have a good time,
and then move on.
I was supposed to be the one teaching, not the one learning.
I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Debra, James, Lorraine, Wilbert, David, Mary, Maria, Dynise, Pam, Leola, Vera, Stephen, and countless others.
I wasn’t supposed to sign on for a second year.
Or maybe I WAS supposed to feel broken, and angry, and helpless. Maybe I WAS supposed to learn, and NOT teach. Maybe I was supposed to fall in love.
Because nothing else happened the way it was supposed to.
I know it sounds egotistical, but during the summer of 2009, right after I had graduated from school, I was ready to change the world. And I knew that that’s what I would be doing.
I was prepared to change the world.
I knew that I was going to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless, and comfort the sad. I had this amazing privilege that would allow me to single-handedly fix everyone’s problems.
I was prepared to change the world.
But…
I was completely prepared for the wrong thing.
I didn’t expect my heart to be broken time and time again, by the structural injustices that perpetuate marginalization, prejudice, racism, and stigmatization.
I was supposed to be the one doing the fixing, not the one being broken.
I wasn’t supposed to feel helpless and uncomfortable and vulnerable.
Remember, I was going to change the world!
I was supposed to be around for a year,
mend some wounds,
bring some joy,
have a good time,
and then move on.
I was supposed to be the one teaching, not the one learning.
I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Debra, James, Lorraine, Wilbert, David, Mary, Maria, Dynise, Pam, Leola, Vera, Stephen, and countless others.
I wasn’t supposed to sign on for a second year.
Or maybe I WAS supposed to feel broken, and angry, and helpless. Maybe I WAS supposed to learn, and NOT teach. Maybe I was supposed to fall in love.
Because nothing else happened the way it was supposed to.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
sometimes you just need a reminder
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
It's been a while...
...and I'm not sure how many people even read this or care to hear an update, but I'm still around, and just haven't had any profound thoughts recently.
But I will post some pictures of my new community soon.
But I will post some pictures of my new community soon.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I carry you with me. I carry you in my heart.
I’ve been reflecting a lot over the last week on this last year of my life. It’s amazing how much can happen in just one year. How many funny, wonderful, sad, spiritual, ridiculous memories can be formed when you throw some random 20 something year olds into a house together and make them hang out.
I was remembering the end of August, when the six of us sat around the living room, for what seemed like hours, discussing whether or not we should get internet in the house.
And in September when we had a fancy dinner with the Dupont Jesuits complete with salmon, pork chops, beer, wine, and goat cheese.
And in October when we threw a ridiculous 90’s themed party, danced to Backstreet Boys, and dressed in plaid. Then we hosted a potluck which ended up stocking our liquor cabinet (metal shelf by back door) for months.
And in November when Lucas’ dad came to visit and brought baby pictures of Lucas and cooked us Nepalese food. The best part was that Tricia called Lucas’ dad, Shree, requesting that he bring pictures, to which Shree responded, “Yes, I have some from the day we picked Lucas up at the orphanage that I will bring. Wait. You DO know that Lucas is adopted, right?”
Then there was December, when we traipsed to the 9:30 club for Bread for the City’s annual fundraiser, dressed inappropriately for 20 degree weather, partook in an open bar, and saw Sugar Ray in concert.
In January, we celebrated Kierstin’s birthday with a scavenger hunt around town, had a death row exonoree over for dinner, and took the Meyer’s-Briggs Personality Inventory. The death row exonoree and the personality test were separate events and not a part of Kierstin’s birthday celebration.
And in February, when my dad visited and grilled fajitas and made margaritas for us during the record breaking snow storm. If a JV community can survive being holed up in their house for a week enduring cabin fever and still live to tell about it, they can survive anything. As a side note, I was reminded of the time, during phase II of the record breaking snow storm, of walking to Chinatown with Kristina to watch Nicholas Spark’s “Dear John,” then walking to Safeway and a shady liquor store, to ensure that 130 Bryant had enough alcohol to help us make it until we got a break from any kind of precipitation.
Then there was March, when we drove up to Tricia’s home town of Seaside, NJ for their annual St. Patrick’s Day parade, only for it to get rained out and have to spend the whole weekend trapped inside her house playing Pictionary telephone, eating cornbeef, and drinking Bailey’s.
Then there was April, when we watched Marc and Lexi, two FJV’s, wed, then bartended at their reception.
And then in May, when Tricia and I both celebrated our birthdays!
And in June, when everyone scattered all around the country for different trips, but we still managed to have one last big meal together before Tricia started the next phase of her life and left for medical school.
Now, it’s July, and I can’t figure out where all this time I thought we had together went. In 3 short weeks, each of us will be moving on to the next phase, in Chicago, and New York, and Boston, and Jersey, and me staying in DC, and it will be painful to say goodbye, but I have these wonderful memories to keep with me forever.
I was remembering the end of August, when the six of us sat around the living room, for what seemed like hours, discussing whether or not we should get internet in the house.
And in September when we had a fancy dinner with the Dupont Jesuits complete with salmon, pork chops, beer, wine, and goat cheese.
And in October when we threw a ridiculous 90’s themed party, danced to Backstreet Boys, and dressed in plaid. Then we hosted a potluck which ended up stocking our liquor cabinet (metal shelf by back door) for months.
And in November when Lucas’ dad came to visit and brought baby pictures of Lucas and cooked us Nepalese food. The best part was that Tricia called Lucas’ dad, Shree, requesting that he bring pictures, to which Shree responded, “Yes, I have some from the day we picked Lucas up at the orphanage that I will bring. Wait. You DO know that Lucas is adopted, right?”
Then there was December, when we traipsed to the 9:30 club for Bread for the City’s annual fundraiser, dressed inappropriately for 20 degree weather, partook in an open bar, and saw Sugar Ray in concert.
In January, we celebrated Kierstin’s birthday with a scavenger hunt around town, had a death row exonoree over for dinner, and took the Meyer’s-Briggs Personality Inventory. The death row exonoree and the personality test were separate events and not a part of Kierstin’s birthday celebration.
And in February, when my dad visited and grilled fajitas and made margaritas for us during the record breaking snow storm. If a JV community can survive being holed up in their house for a week enduring cabin fever and still live to tell about it, they can survive anything. As a side note, I was reminded of the time, during phase II of the record breaking snow storm, of walking to Chinatown with Kristina to watch Nicholas Spark’s “Dear John,” then walking to Safeway and a shady liquor store, to ensure that 130 Bryant had enough alcohol to help us make it until we got a break from any kind of precipitation.
Then there was March, when we drove up to Tricia’s home town of Seaside, NJ for their annual St. Patrick’s Day parade, only for it to get rained out and have to spend the whole weekend trapped inside her house playing Pictionary telephone, eating cornbeef, and drinking Bailey’s.
Then there was April, when we watched Marc and Lexi, two FJV’s, wed, then bartended at their reception.
And then in May, when Tricia and I both celebrated our birthdays!
And in June, when everyone scattered all around the country for different trips, but we still managed to have one last big meal together before Tricia started the next phase of her life and left for medical school.
Now, it’s July, and I can’t figure out where all this time I thought we had together went. In 3 short weeks, each of us will be moving on to the next phase, in Chicago, and New York, and Boston, and Jersey, and me staying in DC, and it will be painful to say goodbye, but I have these wonderful memories to keep with me forever.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
my baby brother
Gone are the days when I was taller and smarter and better informed than Jonah.
Gone are the days when I towered over him, and yelled at him to get out of my room.
These days are gone because Jonah now towers over me.
And astounds me with his perception of people.
And amazes me with his basketball skills.
When I moved away for college he was 10 (now he's 15).
When I decided, just this last week, to stop treating him like he was 10, spending time with him became fun.
When I decided to stop treating him like a 10 year old, we stayed up late watching Remember the Titans, we laughed at inappropriate YouTube videos, we made fun of ugly Lakers players, and he told me about the challenges he experienced as a freshman in high school.
As it turns out, Jonah is in fact, funny, and kind, and thoughtful, and way smarter and more talented than I will ever be.
After 15 years, I'm finally able to recognize what an incredible human my baby brother is. I just never took the time to pay attention.
Jonah, you amaze me.
Gone are the days when I towered over him, and yelled at him to get out of my room.
These days are gone because Jonah now towers over me.
And astounds me with his perception of people.
And amazes me with his basketball skills.
When I moved away for college he was 10 (now he's 15).
When I decided, just this last week, to stop treating him like he was 10, spending time with him became fun.
When I decided to stop treating him like a 10 year old, we stayed up late watching Remember the Titans, we laughed at inappropriate YouTube videos, we made fun of ugly Lakers players, and he told me about the challenges he experienced as a freshman in high school.
As it turns out, Jonah is in fact, funny, and kind, and thoughtful, and way smarter and more talented than I will ever be.
After 15 years, I'm finally able to recognize what an incredible human my baby brother is. I just never took the time to pay attention.
Jonah, you amaze me.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
All good things must come to an end.
I'm feeling overwhelmed by sadness.
I'm mourning the end of my first year of JVC. I'm mourning Tricia's move out of 130 Bryant St. I'm mourning the too fast passing of time. I'm mourning change. I'm mourning being left behind by Kristina, Kierstin, Lucas, and Jordan in DC at the end of July.
My greatest struggle is remaining present to the present. I always seem to get caught up in what could be rather than what is. And then before I know it the future is happening and I didn't spend enough time focusing on the present.
How many hours, minutes, seconds, did I waste thinking about and planning for what comes next (and let's be honest, I was just going to make that decision at the last minute anyway) when I should have been absorbing everything that is going on RIGHT NOW?
So now, it's been 1 year and 1 month since I graduated from college, 1 year since I was teaching swimming lessons, 11 months since I moved to the east coast, and everything is a big blur (and not just because I recently found out I have astigmatism).
The last year has been a wonderful blur of activity, experience, love, tears, joy, struggles, challenges, and friendship.
Even though it's all a little blurry, I know it was wonderful, because if it hadn't been, I wouldn't feel so sad that it's coming to an end right now.
I'm mourning the end of my first year of JVC. I'm mourning Tricia's move out of 130 Bryant St. I'm mourning the too fast passing of time. I'm mourning change. I'm mourning being left behind by Kristina, Kierstin, Lucas, and Jordan in DC at the end of July.
My greatest struggle is remaining present to the present. I always seem to get caught up in what could be rather than what is. And then before I know it the future is happening and I didn't spend enough time focusing on the present.
How many hours, minutes, seconds, did I waste thinking about and planning for what comes next (and let's be honest, I was just going to make that decision at the last minute anyway) when I should have been absorbing everything that is going on RIGHT NOW?
So now, it's been 1 year and 1 month since I graduated from college, 1 year since I was teaching swimming lessons, 11 months since I moved to the east coast, and everything is a big blur (and not just because I recently found out I have astigmatism).
The last year has been a wonderful blur of activity, experience, love, tears, joy, struggles, challenges, and friendship.
Even though it's all a little blurry, I know it was wonderful, because if it hadn't been, I wouldn't feel so sad that it's coming to an end right now.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
23rd Birthday! In the top 5 birthday celebrations of all time :)
Birthday Paper Crafting by Kiki
Community plus Pat and Alicia
Birthday Canoli Cream with Berries by Tricia
Drinking our "emilys"
Birthday Flowers from Community!
Community plus Pat and Alicia
Birthday Canoli Cream with Berries by Tricia
Drinking our "emilys"
Birthday Flowers from Community!
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
To Whom it May Concern,
I used to be scared of you.
You didn't exist in my world a few short months ago.
While you sat on your corner, I thought about you from far away.
I thought about your world, from the comfort of my world.
I didn't know you, but I thought about you, and I was scared of you.
You sat on your corner, and I walked past you, and we looked at eachother.
We looked at eachother, and I was scared.
One day, I smiled at you.
One day, you shook my hand.
One day, you watered the garden for me when I forgot.
Then, one day, you held your umbrella over me in the pouring rain, while I waited to cross the street.
We look at eachother, and we smile, and we know eachother, and we come from the same world.
You are me, and I am you.
Love, Me
I used to be scared of you.
You didn't exist in my world a few short months ago.
While you sat on your corner, I thought about you from far away.
I thought about your world, from the comfort of my world.
I didn't know you, but I thought about you, and I was scared of you.
You sat on your corner, and I walked past you, and we looked at eachother.
We looked at eachother, and I was scared.
One day, I smiled at you.
One day, you shook my hand.
One day, you watered the garden for me when I forgot.
Then, one day, you held your umbrella over me in the pouring rain, while I waited to cross the street.
We look at eachother, and we smile, and we know eachother, and we come from the same world.
You are me, and I am you.
Love, Me
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
broccoli, bryant street, and miracles
Tricia is the most amazing person when it comes to starting projects in our community. Whether it's a rummage sale for Haiti or composting or our beautiful garden. She also happens to be the most amazing person when it comes to conning me into supporting her projects.
Particularly the garden.
With it's broccoli, rosemary, raspberries, perennials, and compost box, our garden has become the most beautiful place in the world.
I never knew that coming home from work and noticing how much taller the broccoli plants are would bring so much joy to my heart.
I also didn't know that our garden would be the means to foster relationships with our neighbors on Bryant Street (a random assortment of life-long DC residents, world bank employees, young families with small children, Capitol interns, drug dealers, former non-profit directors, and Howard University students.)
I didn't know that Paul, our next door neighbor who is sometimes outside at 7:45 in the morning drinking a 40, would diligently water our garden because we don't have a hose. (Part of the reason I became a Redskins fan is so that I always have something to talk to Paul about. Yesterday, he called me "shorty." I think that means we've bonded.)
I didn't know that Frankie Dye (self-described, "Dye, as in, to impregnate with color")would wander out of his house while Tricia and I were planting to come over and weed with us.
I didn't know that Rick and Paul (who each live on opposite sides of our house, and also happen to play this game where they call for eachother whenever pretty girls walk down the street)would feel compelled to sit on our front steps and give Tricia and I a lesson in theology.
I didn't know that Frankie was paying attention to what I was saying while he was weeding and I mentioned that I worked at SOME.
I definitely didn't know that one afternoon he would come knocking on my front door and ask me to come over to his house to talk to a woman who's been sleeping on his couch about getting connected to the services at SOME.
I often feel incompetent at work. Underqualified and inexperienced. This woman, who I was supposed to be helping, actually ended up helping me.
After listening to this woman's story and giving her my contact information at work, I realized that I AM underqualified and inexperienced, but I'm NOT incompetent.
She talked and I listened.
She cried.
Then, she gave me a hug.
I didn't really help her at all.
She helped me recognize my own competence.
All because of Tricia's projects, and our beautiful, life-giving graden.
Particularly the garden.
With it's broccoli, rosemary, raspberries, perennials, and compost box, our garden has become the most beautiful place in the world.
I never knew that coming home from work and noticing how much taller the broccoli plants are would bring so much joy to my heart.
I also didn't know that our garden would be the means to foster relationships with our neighbors on Bryant Street (a random assortment of life-long DC residents, world bank employees, young families with small children, Capitol interns, drug dealers, former non-profit directors, and Howard University students.)
I didn't know that Paul, our next door neighbor who is sometimes outside at 7:45 in the morning drinking a 40, would diligently water our garden because we don't have a hose. (Part of the reason I became a Redskins fan is so that I always have something to talk to Paul about. Yesterday, he called me "shorty." I think that means we've bonded.)
I didn't know that Frankie Dye (self-described, "Dye, as in, to impregnate with color")would wander out of his house while Tricia and I were planting to come over and weed with us.
I didn't know that Rick and Paul (who each live on opposite sides of our house, and also happen to play this game where they call for eachother whenever pretty girls walk down the street)would feel compelled to sit on our front steps and give Tricia and I a lesson in theology.
I didn't know that Frankie was paying attention to what I was saying while he was weeding and I mentioned that I worked at SOME.
I definitely didn't know that one afternoon he would come knocking on my front door and ask me to come over to his house to talk to a woman who's been sleeping on his couch about getting connected to the services at SOME.
I often feel incompetent at work. Underqualified and inexperienced. This woman, who I was supposed to be helping, actually ended up helping me.
After listening to this woman's story and giving her my contact information at work, I realized that I AM underqualified and inexperienced, but I'm NOT incompetent.
She talked and I listened.
She cried.
Then, she gave me a hug.
I didn't really help her at all.
She helped me recognize my own competence.
All because of Tricia's projects, and our beautiful, life-giving graden.
Monday, April 19, 2010
The joys of community, and why I'm doing it all over again
1. Because there are so many other girls to share clothes with.
2. Because there is always something silly to get conned into doing, like composting or running barefoot through the city or going to a karaoke bar.
3. Because there is a big table in the dining room that six people who were strangers eight months ago, now sit around sharing stories, tears, laughs, and pieces of themselves.
4. Because Jordan will catch up with me on his bike on the way home from work and stop to walk with me.
5. Because Lucas invites me along to partake in his busy social life since I don't have one.
6. Because Kierstin and I always have similar stories to share about work.
7. Because Tricia pokes her head into mine and Kristina's room before she goes to bed asking what we are doing since she gets lonely in her penthouse.
8. Because Kristina and I share a room, and sometimes we laugh, and sometimes we cry, and sometimes we cuddle, and sometimes we dance.
9. Because dinner tastes better when it's made from scratch and with love.
10. Because books are better when you live with other people who like to read and you can swap them and talk about how much you love them.
11. Because life and love are more fulfilling experiences when you get to share them with other people.
2. Because there is always something silly to get conned into doing, like composting or running barefoot through the city or going to a karaoke bar.
3. Because there is a big table in the dining room that six people who were strangers eight months ago, now sit around sharing stories, tears, laughs, and pieces of themselves.
4. Because Jordan will catch up with me on his bike on the way home from work and stop to walk with me.
5. Because Lucas invites me along to partake in his busy social life since I don't have one.
6. Because Kierstin and I always have similar stories to share about work.
7. Because Tricia pokes her head into mine and Kristina's room before she goes to bed asking what we are doing since she gets lonely in her penthouse.
8. Because Kristina and I share a room, and sometimes we laugh, and sometimes we cry, and sometimes we cuddle, and sometimes we dance.
9. Because dinner tastes better when it's made from scratch and with love.
10. Because books are better when you live with other people who like to read and you can swap them and talk about how much you love them.
11. Because life and love are more fulfilling experiences when you get to share them with other people.
Monday, April 12, 2010
beverage wisdom
It's funny how when you least expect it you get answers to questions you didn't even know you were asking.
The inside label of my "Honest Ade Pomegranate Blue" flavored water this morning read as follows:
"We must be willing to let go of the life we've planned to have the life that is waiting for us." -E.M. Forster
The inside label of my "Honest Ade Pomegranate Blue" flavored water this morning read as follows:
"We must be willing to let go of the life we've planned to have the life that is waiting for us." -E.M. Forster
"My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together." Bishop Desmond Tutu
There was a baptism Sunday morning at St. Al's. Not just any baptism. The most beautiful baptism I have ever seen.
It wasn't just beautiful because this baby was adopted.
It wasn't just beautiful because everyone could see how much the parents loved eachother and their son.
It wasn't just beautiful because the mother was Muslim and fully in support of a Catholic baptism, or because her two Muslim sisters and mother were also present.
It was beautiful because the visiting Franciscan priest, welcomed these four Muslim women, thanked them for participating in the ceremony, and spoke about how Islam was an influential part of the life of St. Frances of Assisi, the founder of the Franciscan Order of priests.
And, it was beautiful because he asked the parents to raise their son with a Christian and an Islam influence in order to help repair the brokenness that exists between these two faith traditions.
It wasn't just beautiful because this baby was adopted.
It wasn't just beautiful because everyone could see how much the parents loved eachother and their son.
It wasn't just beautiful because the mother was Muslim and fully in support of a Catholic baptism, or because her two Muslim sisters and mother were also present.
It was beautiful because the visiting Franciscan priest, welcomed these four Muslim women, thanked them for participating in the ceremony, and spoke about how Islam was an influential part of the life of St. Frances of Assisi, the founder of the Franciscan Order of priests.
And, it was beautiful because he asked the parents to raise their son with a Christian and an Islam influence in order to help repair the brokenness that exists between these two faith traditions.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Peggy Noonan of the Wallstreet Journal on the sex abuse scandal in the Catholic Church
There are three great groups of victims in this story. The first and most obvious, the children who were abused, who trusted, were preyed upon and bear the burden through life. The second group is the good priests and good nuns, the great leaders of the church in the day to day, who save the poor, teach the immigrant, and, literally, save lives. They have been stigmatized when they deserve to be lionized. And the third group is the Catholics in the pews—the heroic Catholics of America and now Europe, the hardy souls who in spite of what has been done to their church are still there, still making parish life possible, who hold high the flag, their faith unshaken. No one thanks those Catholics, sees their heroism, respects their patience and fidelity. The world thinks they're stupid. They are not stupid, and with their prayers they keep the world going, and the old church too.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
After 8 months, I finally understand
Today it hit me.
I finally understand.
Not that I didn't understand before.
But, I get it now.
I finally, truly, get it.
I was reading while I walked to Easter mass this morning. (By the way, it could not have been a more beautiful Easter Sunday)
And as I was walking and reading I heard someone call out to me, "Hey young lady! What ARE you doing??"
When I looked up I saw two clients waving at me from down the block.
These two particular clients came to SOME several months ago for addictions treatment, dissheveled and emaciated. They have both gone through the 90-day treatment program in West Virginia and are currently in the intensive outpatient program and attending relapse prevention groups.
As I stood there talking to them, I saw that their cheeks were no longer sunken, their smiles stretched from ear to ear, and their eyes were lit up.
This morning, I discovered what the miracle of Easter, and the miracle of the opportunity to serve as a Jesuit Volunteer really is. It's about witnessing the resurrection of the body, firsthand, among the people of God.
The other miracle is that I just happened to be wearing waterproof mascara and sunglasses.
I finally understand.
Not that I didn't understand before.
But, I get it now.
I finally, truly, get it.
I was reading while I walked to Easter mass this morning. (By the way, it could not have been a more beautiful Easter Sunday)
And as I was walking and reading I heard someone call out to me, "Hey young lady! What ARE you doing??"
When I looked up I saw two clients waving at me from down the block.
These two particular clients came to SOME several months ago for addictions treatment, dissheveled and emaciated. They have both gone through the 90-day treatment program in West Virginia and are currently in the intensive outpatient program and attending relapse prevention groups.
As I stood there talking to them, I saw that their cheeks were no longer sunken, their smiles stretched from ear to ear, and their eyes were lit up.
This morning, I discovered what the miracle of Easter, and the miracle of the opportunity to serve as a Jesuit Volunteer really is. It's about witnessing the resurrection of the body, firsthand, among the people of God.
The other miracle is that I just happened to be wearing waterproof mascara and sunglasses.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Spring comes after winter for the right reason.
I've never experienced spring the way I have this year.
Winter exists so that spring can be experienced fully.
I look forward to walking to work in the morning, with my coffee in hand.
Everyone is smiling because the snow has melted.
With my chacos on, the beginnings of a tan on my shoulders, the flowers blossoming a little more each day, and Easter right around the corner, my soul is being resurrected.
P.S. Cherry blossoms are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
Winter exists so that spring can be experienced fully.
I look forward to walking to work in the morning, with my coffee in hand.
Everyone is smiling because the snow has melted.
With my chacos on, the beginnings of a tan on my shoulders, the flowers blossoming a little more each day, and Easter right around the corner, my soul is being resurrected.
P.S. Cherry blossoms are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Couri's visit Itinerary
Couri has never been to DC, so we had to see as much as possible in a week!
Sunday, March 14, 2010:
Couri arrives at BWI
Monday, March 15, 2010:
I had to work during the day
Clyobourne Park (Wooly Mammoth theater)
Tuesday, March 16, 2010:
Natural History Museum
Monuments
Fr. Greg Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries, book signing
Wednesday, March 17, 2010:
Holocaust Museum
White House
Dinner in Old Town Alexandria
Thursday, March 18, 2010:
Pedicures
National Portrait Gallery
Ford's Theater
Obama Store
Monuments at night
Friday, March 19, 2010:
Ben's Chili Bowl
Newseum
Saturday, March 20, 2010:
Arlington National Cemetary
Tea Party protest (totally by accident)
Newseum (4-D movie)
American History Museum
Couri cooks dinner
Sunday, March 21, 2010:
Super Shuttle comes to pick Couri up at 3 am
I'm exhausted, but it was an extraordinarily fun week! I miss Couri already!
Sunday, March 14, 2010:
Couri arrives at BWI
Monday, March 15, 2010:
I had to work during the day
Clyobourne Park (Wooly Mammoth theater)
Tuesday, March 16, 2010:
Natural History Museum
Monuments
Fr. Greg Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries, book signing
Wednesday, March 17, 2010:
Holocaust Museum
White House
Dinner in Old Town Alexandria
Thursday, March 18, 2010:
Pedicures
National Portrait Gallery
Ford's Theater
Obama Store
Monuments at night
Friday, March 19, 2010:
Ben's Chili Bowl
Newseum
Saturday, March 20, 2010:
Arlington National Cemetary
Tea Party protest (totally by accident)
Newseum (4-D movie)
American History Museum
Couri cooks dinner
Sunday, March 21, 2010:
Super Shuttle comes to pick Couri up at 3 am
I'm exhausted, but it was an extraordinarily fun week! I miss Couri already!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Playin' some foozeball!
You may or may not have been aware of the fact that I HATE football. I'm going to go ahead and assume that you know that I HATE football, because I make it a point to inform most everyone.
I have tried and tried and tried to like football. I forced myself to go to games in high school and then in college. I forced myself to sit down with friends and watch football. I even forced myself to go to bars with said friends to watch football.
I just don't get the appeal. The players run around for thirty seconds, someone calls a timeout, they stop the game for five minutes, and the cycle continues.
But, it's never going to happen. Even as a baby, my dad had to turn the sound off on the TV when he watched football or I was inconsolible.
My point is that I hate football. (Although, because of my loyalty to certain clients, I am a diehard Redskins fan.)
But, today, I did not just learn to like football. Today, I loved football. One client found a football at Isaiah House, and something came over me and I asked him if he wanted to go outside in the alley and toss the ball around.
He immediately agreed, so we went outside and tossed the football back and forth several times. Today is a magnificently beautiful spring day, so sure enough, several other guys joined in within a few minutes.
Thankfully, my dad forced me to learn how to throw a football properly at the tender age of four ("No daughter of mine is going to NOT like sports!"), so I was able to impress many an ex-high school football playing client with my beautiful spiral throw. Let me just clarify, that my spiral throw is the only thing that's beautiful when I play football.
Everyday I pray that I can be completely present to each of my clients, and that I can be open to fostering special relationships with each of them. I had no idea that my prayer would lead to my newfound love of football.
I have tried and tried and tried to like football. I forced myself to go to games in high school and then in college. I forced myself to sit down with friends and watch football. I even forced myself to go to bars with said friends to watch football.
I just don't get the appeal. The players run around for thirty seconds, someone calls a timeout, they stop the game for five minutes, and the cycle continues.
But, it's never going to happen. Even as a baby, my dad had to turn the sound off on the TV when he watched football or I was inconsolible.
My point is that I hate football. (Although, because of my loyalty to certain clients, I am a diehard Redskins fan.)
But, today, I did not just learn to like football. Today, I loved football. One client found a football at Isaiah House, and something came over me and I asked him if he wanted to go outside in the alley and toss the ball around.
He immediately agreed, so we went outside and tossed the football back and forth several times. Today is a magnificently beautiful spring day, so sure enough, several other guys joined in within a few minutes.
Thankfully, my dad forced me to learn how to throw a football properly at the tender age of four ("No daughter of mine is going to NOT like sports!"), so I was able to impress many an ex-high school football playing client with my beautiful spiral throw. Let me just clarify, that my spiral throw is the only thing that's beautiful when I play football.
Everyday I pray that I can be completely present to each of my clients, and that I can be open to fostering special relationships with each of them. I had no idea that my prayer would lead to my newfound love of football.
Friday, March 5, 2010
http://www.americamagazine.org/content/article.cfm?article_id=10194
An excellent article about the life and work of Fr. Horace McKenna, founder of SOME and life-long friend and advocate of the poor.
Steps to Authentic Community by Jean Vanier
Acclaimed as “a Canadian who inspires the world” (Maclean's Magazine) and a “nation builder” (The Globe and Mail), Jean Vanier is the founder of the international movement of L'Arche communities, where people who have developmental disabilities and the friends who assist them create homes and share life together. (http://www.larche.ca/en/jean_vanier/biography )
When Jesus calls us forth, he never calls us alone. He calls forth a family of people, a community growing together in the gradual recognition that we are brothers and sister in the Lord, and that love is binding us together. Community doesn’t only mean living under the same roof. A community of love is a beautiful reality. Communes are born and die rapidly because people don’t know much about the laws of community.
When you go into some communities you sense immediate warmth, peace, a deep feeling of security. There is so much love radiated. You find it in the eyes, in the smile, in the nonverbal communication. You go into other communities, and you find long faces and people not talking to each other. They are deathly polite. Jesus says, “They will know you are my disciples by the unity, the love, the joy, the peaces that flows out from you” (John 13:35). This is the sign of the presence of the disciples of Jesus.
Our community is one of suffering. But it is also a community of joy. Joy will only flow from suffering. A community where there are no crises, no suffering, is probably not a good community. Forming community requires time and suffering. Community is the passage of the majority of people from their own personal interests to community interests; to life from a consciousness of my needs to a consciousness of the group. It is when the majority are beginning to enter into a world of love where they are prepared to die for one another.
A community is not people who have agreed to obey certain rules. We know that people can live in proper etiquette of community without having community. Community is something deeper. Like love, it comes into being through gradual growth.
I have watched a number of communities grow and suffer. During the first period of time everybody is happy. Men and women who have been deeply wounded come from a lonely, unhappy situation and suddenly find people sharing. They think it is great: everybody is a saint and everything is fantastic.
The next few months everybody is a devil. During the first months you could accept not having the biggest piece of meat, or not looking at the television program you like. But then you discover that they are looking at all the unintelligent programs and that they never want to watch the ones that you want to look at. Whenever you want to go to the toilet, they are in the bathroom. This is everyday life. They are always eating spaghetti and peanut butter sandwiches. They accentuate religion too much. For awhile religion is great, but not when it is everyday. That is fanatical.
The second stage, the period of deception, is the crucial moment. It is when my desires are such that I want to see my program and I want my spaghetti. So we say, “Let’s humor everybody.” We will have two television sets. Thos who want channel number one can go here, channel number two can go there. And we will have self-service so that those who want spaghetti can have spaghetti, those who want fish can have fish, those who want something else can have something else. Then everybody is satisfied. But then we are no longer a community; we are a hotel.
You have to work at community day by day. During the first stage, the stage of excitement, which is an illusion, you see something which you think is fantastic. Then you get into the period of deception. Finally, through commitment, you come to a moment of reality. During the period of illusion and deception, you are outside of the community. When you come to the stage of reality, you are committed. You say, “I want to be part of this community. It is where I am called to be, to grow, to love, to help others. I commit myself to the community for good or for evil.” Like in marriage, you are committed. There is nothing more beautiful that a married couple as they go through sufferings, the forgiveness, the trials, the explosions, to finally acquiring comfort in one another.
We must help each one go from the period of community for me, to the period of me for community. But we didn’t do it by ourselves. Only the Spirit can bring change. It’s a gradual permeation of the Almighty, a gradual growth of the Spirit inside us teaching us how to listen to people without prejudice, without judgment, without condemnation.
Through learning about one another, we begin to not just tolerate people, but we accept them and their limits. We must accept people with their speech defects, their difficulties, angers, their criticisms, the way they talk too much. In Edmonton there is a person in the group who talked and talked and talked. Because this person had greatly suffered, there was an anguish that had to come out. For three days they let this person talk. After the third day, he didn’t talk anymore. On the fourth day, this person began listening. The anguish had come out. The people had accepted it. If they had rejected this the first day, he wouldn’t have been able to eventually find peace.
We all have our little ways. Accept that. Someone might be different in time, but today she or he is the way she or he is. One of the errors in education is wanting people to become something we have predetermined instead of accepting them as they are today, with their wounds, with their dates, with their sufferings, with their bad character, with their good character. Accept them as they are, and then we will grow together.
If you are continually comparing the person to the ideal, you are in the stage of deception. Each person is a member of the community as he or she is. You know that they love you and you love them, and that you are growing together. Have confidence in one another. This confidence can grow until it becomes a certainty that they are sacrificing themselves for you as you have been called to sacrifice yourself for them. This sacrifice becomes more that the sacrifice of my television program for theirs, or my French fries for their spaghetti. It is giving my life to my friend, loving each other until death.
This reality of the community growing together means that the barriers between people are gradually falling down and mutual confidence is growing. As soon as the barriers between people begin dropping, then the smile, the look in the eyes, the nonverbal communication begins. You communicate more nonverbally than verbally. This tells much more than the verbal because you know each other so well that you don’t have to express; there is hardly a word that comes out.
People know they have limits but that others accept them anyway. There are no masks; nobody’s pretending to be better than the others’ nobody wants more recognition than the others; nobody is pretending to be other than they are. They are themselves with their poverty and their riches that God has given them. They love each other.
When a person realizes that he or she can’t keep his or her barriers because he or she is in a group where there are no barriers, then his or her barriers drop quickly. If people have no barriers in their being but are open with their limits and their poverty, then others begin doing the same thing and people become themselves. They don’t have to pretend to be. They can just be.
Then comes the discovery that the community is not just a group of people living, working, and learning together, but that here you are my brother or sister in Jesus. Whatever happens to you concerns me. We are precious to each other. If you fall sick, you are still mine. You won’t be rejected by the community. I am committed to you because of some deeper union. As when people get married, it is not because they decide to get married but because they are realizing there is a union which is before their decision – they love each other. They have recognized that this is a union in the spirit of which they are not the master, just as in marriage two people come together because they feel that this is what God wants.
Community in the sense of people ready to die for one another is not a work of man. It is God’s doing. It is a union of which Jesus said, “Love one another the way I have love you” (John 13:34).
Only communities of love can confront the hatred, the division, and the sufferings of this world. This unity will heal deeply wounded people in the community as they sense the joy, the peace, the therapeutic action of love. This is what Jesus is calling us for. He calls us forth as brothers and sisters. How beautiful it is, how good to live as brothers and sisters in unity in a world where there is hatred, in order to become doctors of love and peace.
Reprinted from New Covenant Magazine – January 1978.
When Jesus calls us forth, he never calls us alone. He calls forth a family of people, a community growing together in the gradual recognition that we are brothers and sister in the Lord, and that love is binding us together. Community doesn’t only mean living under the same roof. A community of love is a beautiful reality. Communes are born and die rapidly because people don’t know much about the laws of community.
When you go into some communities you sense immediate warmth, peace, a deep feeling of security. There is so much love radiated. You find it in the eyes, in the smile, in the nonverbal communication. You go into other communities, and you find long faces and people not talking to each other. They are deathly polite. Jesus says, “They will know you are my disciples by the unity, the love, the joy, the peaces that flows out from you” (John 13:35). This is the sign of the presence of the disciples of Jesus.
Our community is one of suffering. But it is also a community of joy. Joy will only flow from suffering. A community where there are no crises, no suffering, is probably not a good community. Forming community requires time and suffering. Community is the passage of the majority of people from their own personal interests to community interests; to life from a consciousness of my needs to a consciousness of the group. It is when the majority are beginning to enter into a world of love where they are prepared to die for one another.
A community is not people who have agreed to obey certain rules. We know that people can live in proper etiquette of community without having community. Community is something deeper. Like love, it comes into being through gradual growth.
I have watched a number of communities grow and suffer. During the first period of time everybody is happy. Men and women who have been deeply wounded come from a lonely, unhappy situation and suddenly find people sharing. They think it is great: everybody is a saint and everything is fantastic.
The next few months everybody is a devil. During the first months you could accept not having the biggest piece of meat, or not looking at the television program you like. But then you discover that they are looking at all the unintelligent programs and that they never want to watch the ones that you want to look at. Whenever you want to go to the toilet, they are in the bathroom. This is everyday life. They are always eating spaghetti and peanut butter sandwiches. They accentuate religion too much. For awhile religion is great, but not when it is everyday. That is fanatical.
The second stage, the period of deception, is the crucial moment. It is when my desires are such that I want to see my program and I want my spaghetti. So we say, “Let’s humor everybody.” We will have two television sets. Thos who want channel number one can go here, channel number two can go there. And we will have self-service so that those who want spaghetti can have spaghetti, those who want fish can have fish, those who want something else can have something else. Then everybody is satisfied. But then we are no longer a community; we are a hotel.
You have to work at community day by day. During the first stage, the stage of excitement, which is an illusion, you see something which you think is fantastic. Then you get into the period of deception. Finally, through commitment, you come to a moment of reality. During the period of illusion and deception, you are outside of the community. When you come to the stage of reality, you are committed. You say, “I want to be part of this community. It is where I am called to be, to grow, to love, to help others. I commit myself to the community for good or for evil.” Like in marriage, you are committed. There is nothing more beautiful that a married couple as they go through sufferings, the forgiveness, the trials, the explosions, to finally acquiring comfort in one another.
We must help each one go from the period of community for me, to the period of me for community. But we didn’t do it by ourselves. Only the Spirit can bring change. It’s a gradual permeation of the Almighty, a gradual growth of the Spirit inside us teaching us how to listen to people without prejudice, without judgment, without condemnation.
Through learning about one another, we begin to not just tolerate people, but we accept them and their limits. We must accept people with their speech defects, their difficulties, angers, their criticisms, the way they talk too much. In Edmonton there is a person in the group who talked and talked and talked. Because this person had greatly suffered, there was an anguish that had to come out. For three days they let this person talk. After the third day, he didn’t talk anymore. On the fourth day, this person began listening. The anguish had come out. The people had accepted it. If they had rejected this the first day, he wouldn’t have been able to eventually find peace.
We all have our little ways. Accept that. Someone might be different in time, but today she or he is the way she or he is. One of the errors in education is wanting people to become something we have predetermined instead of accepting them as they are today, with their wounds, with their dates, with their sufferings, with their bad character, with their good character. Accept them as they are, and then we will grow together.
If you are continually comparing the person to the ideal, you are in the stage of deception. Each person is a member of the community as he or she is. You know that they love you and you love them, and that you are growing together. Have confidence in one another. This confidence can grow until it becomes a certainty that they are sacrificing themselves for you as you have been called to sacrifice yourself for them. This sacrifice becomes more that the sacrifice of my television program for theirs, or my French fries for their spaghetti. It is giving my life to my friend, loving each other until death.
This reality of the community growing together means that the barriers between people are gradually falling down and mutual confidence is growing. As soon as the barriers between people begin dropping, then the smile, the look in the eyes, the nonverbal communication begins. You communicate more nonverbally than verbally. This tells much more than the verbal because you know each other so well that you don’t have to express; there is hardly a word that comes out.
People know they have limits but that others accept them anyway. There are no masks; nobody’s pretending to be better than the others’ nobody wants more recognition than the others; nobody is pretending to be other than they are. They are themselves with their poverty and their riches that God has given them. They love each other.
When a person realizes that he or she can’t keep his or her barriers because he or she is in a group where there are no barriers, then his or her barriers drop quickly. If people have no barriers in their being but are open with their limits and their poverty, then others begin doing the same thing and people become themselves. They don’t have to pretend to be. They can just be.
Then comes the discovery that the community is not just a group of people living, working, and learning together, but that here you are my brother or sister in Jesus. Whatever happens to you concerns me. We are precious to each other. If you fall sick, you are still mine. You won’t be rejected by the community. I am committed to you because of some deeper union. As when people get married, it is not because they decide to get married but because they are realizing there is a union which is before their decision – they love each other. They have recognized that this is a union in the spirit of which they are not the master, just as in marriage two people come together because they feel that this is what God wants.
Community in the sense of people ready to die for one another is not a work of man. It is God’s doing. It is a union of which Jesus said, “Love one another the way I have love you” (John 13:34).
Only communities of love can confront the hatred, the division, and the sufferings of this world. This unity will heal deeply wounded people in the community as they sense the joy, the peace, the therapeutic action of love. This is what Jesus is calling us for. He calls us forth as brothers and sisters. How beautiful it is, how good to live as brothers and sisters in unity in a world where there is hatred, in order to become doctors of love and peace.
Reprinted from New Covenant Magazine – January 1978.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Dinner at 130 Bryant
I began spiritual direction on Tuesday, and my first assignment is to REALLY pay attention to moments when I see or feel God's presence.
A recurring moment that I keep reflecting on is dinner time at 130 Bryant.
Every night my community gathers at the dinner table and eats together.
We gather at the table for dinner regardless of what is going on with each individual.
Regardless of disagreements, frustrations, or sadness, we eat dinner together.
I see God's presence in my community in knowing that each day when I come home from work, someone will have prepared a meal, we will sit around our dining room table, eating together and enjoying eachother's company.
A recurring moment that I keep reflecting on is dinner time at 130 Bryant.
Every night my community gathers at the dinner table and eats together.
We gather at the table for dinner regardless of what is going on with each individual.
Regardless of disagreements, frustrations, or sadness, we eat dinner together.
I see God's presence in my community in knowing that each day when I come home from work, someone will have prepared a meal, we will sit around our dining room table, eating together and enjoying eachother's company.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
By the Way...
I will be staying at Isaiah House for a second year!
This is why:
Approximately 30 minutes before I had to e-mail JVC with my list of jobs I was interested in interviewing at, I was sitting between two of my favorite clients (and yes, I am well aware that I am not supposed to have favorites) during a member-led group and I started thinking about having to say goodbye to them at the end of July.
I got a little choked up, left the room, and sent an e-mail notifying JVC that I wanted to stay at my current placement for an additional year.
This is why:
Approximately 30 minutes before I had to e-mail JVC with my list of jobs I was interested in interviewing at, I was sitting between two of my favorite clients (and yes, I am well aware that I am not supposed to have favorites) during a member-led group and I started thinking about having to say goodbye to them at the end of July.
I got a little choked up, left the room, and sent an e-mail notifying JVC that I wanted to stay at my current placement for an additional year.
As the season of spring rapidly approaches:
I want to keep my soul fertile for changes, so things keep getting born in me, so things keep dying when it's time for them to die. I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago, because a mind was made to figure things out, not read the same page recurrently.
- Donald Miller, from his book, Through Painted Deserts
- Donald Miller, from his book, Through Painted Deserts
Thursday, February 18, 2010
I am incapable of making decisions!
I had my interview last night for a second year of JVC. It's a relief that the process of discerning plans for the upcoming year has almost come to an end.
The interview went well. I think. I should be hearing back from my interviewer today.
I would, however, very much appreciate prayers, words of advice, happy thoughts, or whatever you feel comfortable offering regarding where I should be next year!
The interview went well. I think. I should be hearing back from my interviewer today.
I would, however, very much appreciate prayers, words of advice, happy thoughts, or whatever you feel comfortable offering regarding where I should be next year!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Reflections on Snow
snow /snoʊ/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [snoh] –noun
1. Meteorology. a precipitation in the form of ice crystals, mainly of intricately branched, hexagonal form and often agglomerated into snowflakes, formed directly from the freezing of the water vapor in the air. Compare ice crystals, snow grains, snow pellets.
2. these flakes as forming a layer on the ground or other surface.
3. the fall of these flakes or a storm during which these flakes fall.
4. something resembling a layer of these flakes in whiteness, softness, or the like: the snow of fresh linen.
5. Literary. a. white blossoms.
b. the white color of snow.
6. Slang. cocaine or heroin.
7. white spots or bands on a television screen caused by a weak signal.
Snow is also defined as:
The pretty white stuff that falls from the sky, accumulates on the world, is fun for a day, then won't go away, causes everything to shut down, leads to cabin fever, then makes everyone angry. It may also lead to the non-reelection for government officials in the area.
1. Meteorology. a precipitation in the form of ice crystals, mainly of intricately branched, hexagonal form and often agglomerated into snowflakes, formed directly from the freezing of the water vapor in the air. Compare ice crystals, snow grains, snow pellets.
2. these flakes as forming a layer on the ground or other surface.
3. the fall of these flakes or a storm during which these flakes fall.
4. something resembling a layer of these flakes in whiteness, softness, or the like: the snow of fresh linen.
5. Literary. a. white blossoms.
b. the white color of snow.
6. Slang. cocaine or heroin.
7. white spots or bands on a television screen caused by a weak signal.
Snow is also defined as:
The pretty white stuff that falls from the sky, accumulates on the world, is fun for a day, then won't go away, causes everything to shut down, leads to cabin fever, then makes everyone angry. It may also lead to the non-reelection for government officials in the area.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Paul's coming today!!!!!
My dad will be arriving in a couple of hours!
I will be conning him into taking me to dinner...and buying me presents...and making fajitas and margaritas for my community.
Also, DC is expecting at least a foot of snow this weekend!
I will be conning him into taking me to dinner...and buying me presents...and making fajitas and margaritas for my community.
Also, DC is expecting at least a foot of snow this weekend!
Monday, February 1, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
1 Corinthians 12:12
My community recently took the Kiersey personality test, which is an adaptation of the Meyer's-Briggs Personality Inventory.
As a general overview, the results of the test give each person a specific combination of the letters E/I (extrovert/introvert), S/N (sensing/intuitive), T/F (thinking/feeling), and J/P (judging/perceiving).
All 4 women in my house are ENFPs and both men were ESFJs.
Apparently, only 4% of the population are ENFPs, which led me to question the validity of this personality test.
When I first took the Meyers-Briggs a couple of years ago I remember being stoked that I had such a "rare" personality type. Almost as stoked as when I found out I have an O- blood type. Which is equally as rare as being an ENFP.
So, needless to say, I was a little perturbed that three of my housemates have exactly the same personality type as I do. (As far as I know, I'm the only one with an O- blood type though.)
Upon further reflection of the results of our personality tests, I realized that there are only 32 combinations of those 8 letters. At some point I was going to have to accept that I am not the only ENFP in the world.
Upon even further reflection, I realized that having the same personality as three other people in my house does not lessen the originality of each person. In fact, I've actually come to love the thought that four people in my community have the same personality type. Because, clearly, it's an AWESOME one.
That being said, I will feel terribly unoriginal, pending a blood test, if any of the ENFP's also end up being O-'s.
Should that be the case, I am still the tallest girl in the house.
On a more serious note, the Meyers-Briggs Personality Inventory is incredibly helpful, as it gives insight into the strengths and weaknesses of each personality type. Knowing which areas of your personality are opportunities for growth is something worth being aware of and seeing the strengths of your personality is very affirming.
As a general overview, the results of the test give each person a specific combination of the letters E/I (extrovert/introvert), S/N (sensing/intuitive), T/F (thinking/feeling), and J/P (judging/perceiving).
All 4 women in my house are ENFPs and both men were ESFJs.
Apparently, only 4% of the population are ENFPs, which led me to question the validity of this personality test.
When I first took the Meyers-Briggs a couple of years ago I remember being stoked that I had such a "rare" personality type. Almost as stoked as when I found out I have an O- blood type. Which is equally as rare as being an ENFP.
So, needless to say, I was a little perturbed that three of my housemates have exactly the same personality type as I do. (As far as I know, I'm the only one with an O- blood type though.)
Upon further reflection of the results of our personality tests, I realized that there are only 32 combinations of those 8 letters. At some point I was going to have to accept that I am not the only ENFP in the world.
Upon even further reflection, I realized that having the same personality as three other people in my house does not lessen the originality of each person. In fact, I've actually come to love the thought that four people in my community have the same personality type. Because, clearly, it's an AWESOME one.
That being said, I will feel terribly unoriginal, pending a blood test, if any of the ENFP's also end up being O-'s.
Should that be the case, I am still the tallest girl in the house.
On a more serious note, the Meyers-Briggs Personality Inventory is incredibly helpful, as it gives insight into the strengths and weaknesses of each personality type. Knowing which areas of your personality are opportunities for growth is something worth being aware of and seeing the strengths of your personality is very affirming.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Kavanaugh Christmas!
Pam and Paul (my wildly attractive parents)
He loves me. Clearly.
Outside Ben's Chili Bowl (one of the only businesses to survive the rioting in DC after Martin Luther King Jr.'s assasination)
Cousins :)
Me and my daddy!!! Even I can see the resemblance. Weird.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
12 Ladies Dancing
This Christmas I started to feel my age catching up with me. Over the hill is no longer 40 year old. It's 22 and a half. I have reached a point in my old age where I now say things like, "On Christmas Eve, I picked up my parents from the airport and brought them back to my house and cooked pot pie for dinner."
Someone pick out a coffin for me now. My life is coming to a close.
So, maybe, I'm being a little dramatic.
That is what happened though.
On Christmas Eve, I picked up my parents from the airport and brought them back to my house and cooked pot pie for dinner.
No, not the 65 cent frozen pot pies that you put in the microwave for 15 minutes. You know? The ones that dads buy for dinner when moms are out of town (maybe that was just in my house?). The ones with a questionable spongy meat that the label says is chicken, but you know is definitely NOT chicken? Anybody? Anybody?
Anyways. Not that kind. The homemade kind. The kind that is actually delicious. And all of the ingredients are recognizeable.
I felt so grown-up.
More important news in my family, however, is that my little brother is actually not so little anymore, and has now surpassed me in height. He has, however, not surpassed me in intelligence or good looks. Let's just be honest.
On Christmas day, I took my family to the church I have been attending regularly, St. Aloysius, a Jesuit parish. The priest sounds like James Earl Jones, and I have to admit I have a little crush on him. And yes, I am aware that Catholic priests can't get married. We walked a mile and a half in the snow and ice while being greeted by many a happy holiday-wishing homeless person.
Later that day, we went out to Frederick, MD to visit my uncle and his family. We had a spectacular time eating, laughing, playing Wii, going bowling, and laying around. We stayed there for a few days before coming back into the District.
My parents were incredibly generous with their giving of food, time, movie tickets, and margaritas.
They headed back to Texas on Saturday. The visit, as they always are, was too short, but our time together over the holidays was an incredible blessing.
Among all of the joyfulness of this season, I also spent some time reflecting on some challenges this particular Christmas brought. I entered this particular holiday season feeling sad about not being able to get all of the gifts I wanted to get for all of the people I wanted to give them too.
Then I spent a considerable amount of time comparing gifts my family received to gifts other families received. I said some pretty ungrateful things, of which I am now incredibly embarrassed, to my parents the day after Christmas.
But then, I reflected on how I chose to live simply. Just for a year.
I chose to live in solidarity with people who don't have parents to say rude things to.
I chose to live in solidarity with people who don't have a family to fly 2000 miles to visit them for the holidays.
I chose to spend a year living in solidarity with these people so that when I start vomiting words of ungratefulness, I would be able to recognize that I am an imperfect person, that sometimes feels ungrateful, but really only has a wonderful, wonderful existence to be thankful for.
Someone pick out a coffin for me now. My life is coming to a close.
So, maybe, I'm being a little dramatic.
That is what happened though.
On Christmas Eve, I picked up my parents from the airport and brought them back to my house and cooked pot pie for dinner.
No, not the 65 cent frozen pot pies that you put in the microwave for 15 minutes. You know? The ones that dads buy for dinner when moms are out of town (maybe that was just in my house?). The ones with a questionable spongy meat that the label says is chicken, but you know is definitely NOT chicken? Anybody? Anybody?
Anyways. Not that kind. The homemade kind. The kind that is actually delicious. And all of the ingredients are recognizeable.
I felt so grown-up.
More important news in my family, however, is that my little brother is actually not so little anymore, and has now surpassed me in height. He has, however, not surpassed me in intelligence or good looks. Let's just be honest.
On Christmas day, I took my family to the church I have been attending regularly, St. Aloysius, a Jesuit parish. The priest sounds like James Earl Jones, and I have to admit I have a little crush on him. And yes, I am aware that Catholic priests can't get married. We walked a mile and a half in the snow and ice while being greeted by many a happy holiday-wishing homeless person.
Later that day, we went out to Frederick, MD to visit my uncle and his family. We had a spectacular time eating, laughing, playing Wii, going bowling, and laying around. We stayed there for a few days before coming back into the District.
My parents were incredibly generous with their giving of food, time, movie tickets, and margaritas.
They headed back to Texas on Saturday. The visit, as they always are, was too short, but our time together over the holidays was an incredible blessing.
Among all of the joyfulness of this season, I also spent some time reflecting on some challenges this particular Christmas brought. I entered this particular holiday season feeling sad about not being able to get all of the gifts I wanted to get for all of the people I wanted to give them too.
Then I spent a considerable amount of time comparing gifts my family received to gifts other families received. I said some pretty ungrateful things, of which I am now incredibly embarrassed, to my parents the day after Christmas.
But then, I reflected on how I chose to live simply. Just for a year.
I chose to live in solidarity with people who don't have parents to say rude things to.
I chose to live in solidarity with people who don't have a family to fly 2000 miles to visit them for the holidays.
I chose to spend a year living in solidarity with these people so that when I start vomiting words of ungratefulness, I would be able to recognize that I am an imperfect person, that sometimes feels ungrateful, but really only has a wonderful, wonderful existence to be thankful for.
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