I've written a lot on my struggles this year. So much so that it might even seem to those who have followed this blog that it has been all-terrible. It hasn't, but there have been many, many struggles and I miss my home and loved ones terribly. Work
has been difficult, and adjusting and trying to figure out who I am outside of Cabrini and academics has been a challenge. But, I think that even in that way JVC has been a blessing: it has allowed me to see things clearly and appreciate them even more. That's not to say I took Sara, my family, or my friends at home for granted, but I definitely see even more now how dear they are all to me. How much I am thankful to be from Philadelphia, to have lived in Cinnaminson and have my friends there, to have gone to Cabrini and to been encouraged and been so involved. I am thankful for all of the events that brought me to JVC.
It has also been a blessing in that this year is a safe place to struggle and grapple with oneself. Were I to come to work and be so hopelessly overwhelmed outside of the realm of JVC it might be more difficutl to admit those things to coworkers or supervisors; this safe feels safer. It has given me a chance to look at my strengths, my weaknesses, and see how the things that make me who I am can operate in a workplace setting whereas before they operated either in isolation: academics, or in space of leadership, safety, and guidance such as with Campus Ministry at school. I've learned to try and accept the fact that I am introverted and try not to fit into the extrovert mold; there is a place for those who operate and run things without being in your face. Standing back and encouraging in simpler and smaller ways and letting participants participate and own their experience instead of pushing and being incredibly hands-on. I could never imagine being an orientation leader at Cabrini becuase I cannot do this (and am sometimes annoyed by it--but that's me. Haha.)
Though I don't often feel as if I bring much to Verbum Dei, it has given me countless blessings. Just seeing the boys interact with faculty and staff, listening to their jokes (good, bad, and vulgar), listening to them debate over what they are learning in class, and watching them work to get into college, watching football and soccer games on senior square... Every once in a while I remember where the boys come from and am ever more impressed and proud of them for where they are and what they are accomplishing. They are not "boys from underserved neighborhoods," they're just boys. Verb boys.
Hearing stories of the success some alumni have had has been a blessing. Seeing Jesse come back and teach here and give back to the school that gave him so much and tell his story to the students here has been a blessing.
Watching the brotherhood form at Verbum Dei has been a particular gift. Faculty and staff here talk all the time about "building brotherhood," and encourage students to trust one another. This could all be simply fluff, buzzwords for the students to groan at. The freshman retreat was all about starting that relationship. The new students might not have understood what they were being told, many didn't believe or didn't buy into what they were being told, that these people they are going to share the next four years with will ever be more than just classmates. Most of them are right out of public school, coming from a space with no trust, no partnership, no people to really rely on. They might have had friends but what Verb promises them; people to help shoulder their burdens, keep them grounded, they can't understand the deeper levels of friendship. Obviously some of that is age, some of it is their surroundings.
But the brotherhood at Verb is real, it is palpable, and it has moved me on many occassions. Even by the end of freshmen retreat I think the boys were starting to grasp it, as they slung arms around each others' shoulders and belted out "Lean on Me" together.
I've seen the brotherhood in action at places that might make a lot of sense: retreats. Junior retreat I wrote about, it was beyond words the level of trust, honesty, and vulnerability I saw in that room. Similarly, on the senior Kairos retreat, students shared of themselves so deeply. Admitted their deepest secrets, talked about their struggles (some incredibly heart-wrenching) and made apologies to fellow classmates.
I've seen it in simple ways, as well.
Counseling, consoling, and commisserating with one another over college denials in the office, encouraging them as they worry over where they may be accepted. On my recent trip to Utah I saw it as one student rested with his back against another and his head on his shoulder. "The freshmen look at the seniors and they probably think we're gay, the way the seniors interact. But they don't really get it, the friendship." It's true--these boys become closer than anyone I ever saw in high school; it is built into the mission of their education. It fosters trust, support, and care. Young men from the neighborhoods that Verb serves are taught
not to be vulnerable,
not to trust, to be closed off, to be tough and isolated. It's illustrated by the disturbingly high rate of absent fathers for our students here. But this school...it gives them the space to be with one another, to trust one another, and to grow in true friendship. The boys look at one another and they aren't just classmates, they're brothers, all of them. I'm not saying this from a faculty and staff point of view, this is what students have told me both in words and action. I can't even remember how many times I've heard students here tell others that if they ever need anything, I'm here for you.
I saw it when one of our students here could no longer go on the Navajo Nation Immersion trip because his mother was seriously ill. He came to our sendoff prayer service that Saturday morning. He didn't know why, he said, he just felt like he had to be there. He needed somewhere he felt safe and supported. We prayed over him that morning, he received hugs from all the other students going. Well wishes and prayers.
An hour into our drive that day, we stopped because we had learned his mother passed away. We prayed for him and every student gave an intention. For the whole week of our trip, he was present in every action, every reflection, every prayer. The students didn't forget and kept him in their thoughts. What kind of high school builds that kind of support among its students? These weren't even all students who knew him, but they all cared deeply for his well-being and comfort.
I've been moved in strange moments. Honors and student of the months ceremonies when the principal lists off more than a dozen students each month, reading the descriptions and reasons from each teacher as to why the student is getting their award. At grad-at-grad week, a week dedicated to developing consciousness of the school's goals for its "graduates at graduation," during the closing ceremony when Isaiah and a few other students belted out a rocking tune for the celebration. At mass when Isaiah again (on vocals), and Miguel (on guitar) gave an incredible performance at communion (to a resounding applause following). Listening to the choir at mass. The way students on the immersion trip moved to the back during our hike to chat with the slower people in the back.
A lot of this amazing atmosphere is fostered by the faculty and staff who care deeply for the students, hold them accountable, and give them endless support, sacrificing their weekends, afternoons, and evenings for the benefit of the students. Tireless effort from Martinique in college guidance, Karen in Campus Ministry, Krista in Christian Service, administration, and every teacher and every other person who works at this school.
Even more now than at Cabrini I've seen the amazing gift of Campus Ministry. By providing a safe space for encouragement and honesty, students grow in their understanding of themselves, of others, and sometimes God, and that allows them to come more together, to believe in themselves and to in turn encourage others. Campus Ministry did these things for me, but as I've worked at Verb I've seen it in action over and over. The JEDIS are an amazing group of students dedicated to helping others. Freshman Retreat got students thinking about their life and what they might be able to gain from this unique experience. Junior Retreat gave students the opportunity to become vulnerable with their classmates. Kairos tore down walls, started to heal old wounds, and showed students that they are loved by their friends and family.
At Kairos I sat and watched students play Monopoly and that moment I was in awe of where I was. I was sitting at a table with a former gang member, a former drug dealer, and in the room were victims of abuse, people with addictions, and I was left speechless; dumbstruck. Even those that may not have faced tragedy still grew up surrounded by the hardships of the inner-city. Pressures of drugs, gangs. Surrounded by violence. And each has undoubtedly been taught outside of Verb that they will never leave that place.
The boys at Verbum Dei have seen so much, been through so much. Some don't even realize just how much or how unjust their situation has been. And yet they continue to be strong. To be intelligent. To be simply high school boys and teenagers. Many young men and women in this country are not given that opportunity: to just be teenagers. They are not given the opportunity to dream of and work for a better future, to escape the neighborhoods that trap so many. But at Verb they are given the freedom to just be.
It is a blessing to see this good work, to be part of it in a small way. And for that, despite struggles, despite hardships, despite an aching, unending homesickness, I am thankful for my time with Verbum Dei and all it has shown me and taught me.
