Normal Activity

Today, the director of Paranormal Activity came to Verb to talk to the Film Club. I'm not a particular fan of that movie (in fact I rather dislike it) but I wasn't going to say no to an opportunity to hear someone speak about the film industry.

So in general it was pretty interesting, the way Paranormal Activity was made and distributed is very strange and uncommon, but as a whole there was nothing particularly noteworthy. In fact, the guy seems like a one-trick pony (he hasn't made anything since the first one, really). I already don't remember much of what he said.

But at the end of his Q&A, one of the students asked what he would change about the film industry. He said he'd want to see less people in it just to make lots of money at the expense of the art. Then the student was asked what he would like to see changed, to which the young man responded, "More diversity. There's hardly any African Americans in movies."

Well, that really struck me. I was taken aback by the fact that this student is already incredibly aware of the disparity in our society between those of us who are white and minorities. Working here has already made me much more sensitive about the need for change in our society in terms of economic opportunity, yes but even just in the way we promote what is normal through TV, and movies, and every other facet of pop culture that feeds our cultural view of what is "normal," or preferred.

I've noticed the race-gap in TV and movies, (I'm well aware that there haven't been any black superheroes on the big screen, yet.) but it doesn't affect me very much so I don't really think about it at all. I never realized how prevalent and obvious it must be to people who aren't white (or straight, or have disabilities). It's something that people must pick up on quickly. There aren't very many famous people to be role models because the entertainment industry is so primarily white and we just tend to display that as normal and ignore, and I'm not saying it's purposeful, the fact that America is so diverse.

And many of the most prevelant African Americans in pop culture tend to be rappers and that whole culture isn't exactly a positive message for young people, and there are times in my day-to-day where I can definitely see that desire to identify with that part of culture crop up. Part of it, too, comes from the neighborhoods in this area that are so filled with crime and gangs and things of that nature, but there is an air around so many of these boys that they have to put on a tough face and have an attitude and be difficult.

I was reading a few personal statements for college apps recently, and one student wrote about  how growing up he thought he had to be a tough guy to be popular, to meet girls, and be successful.  He grew up in Inglewood, which has a lot of gang activity. He talked about how all he cared about was getting girls like the gangmembers and tough dudes in his school. He went on to explain, however, that there was a local gang that had a problem with latinos and one day walking home from the bus he was mugged. Deciding he had to keep his tough guy image, he wasn't willing to cooperate and wound up with a gun to his head. He explained that this experience changed his entire system of values, and he realized that his perception had been skewed and that if he really wanted a good life and a successful life he should focus on his academics, go to college, and then become a positive role model for other people like him from areas like his. I'm sure this young man isn't the only one with a story like this, and the opportunity Verb provides is simply amazing.

Back to the original observation about lack of diversity...it's such a simple, obvious thing, and yet I never really considered the ramifications of it. Obviously I have known that this was a thing that existed, I've talked about it, I've read about it, I've observed it, but knowing it in my head is a different thing than being here with young people who are very aware of it, who live with those implications and point them out. I never really understood how much it plays into people's lives. That, and what the kids on the Urban Plunge observed about noticing the number of minorities  that were coming in for food really make me feel that inequality for the first time.

And it really angers me. There is no reason that someone should feel abnormal or less important than anyone else just because they're from somewhere else, because their skin color is different. Why should that be such a factor in your economic future? Why should it be a yardstick for how much you are able to think you can accomplish simply because there are less people like you who are successful? Or at least not as many depicted as being successful. There needs to be a change in the way our society functions, the way we consider our economy and the people who are poor, because we all deserve to have the opportunity to never have to consider yourself abnormal.

And as this is election day I can't help but wonder what tomorrow brings. Because I firmly believe that if one of the two candidates is elected then these boys and millions more like them will feel even more marginalized, it will be even more difficult for smart, passionate, good kids from poor  neighborhoods to succeed, and why? Because their parents need food stamps and can't find a job. And that's their fault, according to so many people in this country. This is not the way we should treat others. I wish everyone could just see what I see every day...there is no rich or poor or middle class person. There are only people.

Urban Plunge

What a fun time this last weekend was. From Friday October 19 to Sunday October 21st I spent my time with nine students on a service weekend we call the "Urban Plunge." It's a service immersion experience downtown, and in the local LA area where we work for and serve the some of the people in LA experiencing homelessness.

I was really looking forward to this opportunity because Krista, my supervisor, explained that the Urban Plunge seemed to be the moment where the previous JVs began to feel comfortable in the position. And last year's JV, who I contacted about my difficulties said the same thing. So I was really looking forward to this from the beginning of my time at Verb.

We stayed the weekend at Dolores Mission, a fantastic church in Boyle Heights that has a long history of serving a neighborhood entrenched in violence and poverty. DM is an awesome Jesuit parish with some really awesome priests and a dedication to making their community a safe space. The masses are some of the best I've ever been to and I immediately felt like I was part of a community in coming there. The sermons are socially relevent, talk about justice issues and the people are incredibly involved in the mass, taking part in sharing prayer intentions, celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, and first time visiters. It's just awesome. The only other time I've enjoyed mass so much was at Cabrini and for similar reasons--the sense of community.

Now, normally on the Urban Plunge, Verb hosts a dinner service at one of DM's social services, the Guadalupe Homeless Project. The deal there is that the people choose the menu, bring the food, prepare everything and then eat and interact with the people they serve. Unfortunately, the place double booked us and we had to find something else!

This happened two months ago, though, and that was fine. We booked another mission (there are a large amount in LA, unfortunately, because there is such a need) and we were set. Well about a week before the trip I contacted the volunteer coordinator there asking for some more specifics and they told me they had us booked for lunch!

Well this is a problem, I thought.

I've spent the last week frantically trying to replace it somewhere but with such short notice it was nearly impossible. This had made me significantly less excited. I felt like, one, that I had failed, and two, that the trip would now be less than it would have been. I worried that maybe it'd get cut short or somehow not be a good time. And so my previous excitement was replaced with dread and on top of all my other stressers it was pretty much exactly what I didn't need. This was supposed to be the thing that would turn the experience around...my first real chance to get to know some of the guys...and now it was going to be ruined.

Fortunately, though, it all worked out. Friday right after school the boys came into the Campus Min office and we hung out for a little before packing up the vans and driving to DM. Once there the guys played football with a couple of the kids who were hanging out in the school "playground" (which is pretty much just a parking lot with a couple basketball nets and some court lines on the blacktop...pretty typical for a Catholic school in the city.) I played some two-on-two basketball a littel bit with three of the guys and was able to adequately make a fool of myself.

We never found any service site to replace Friday's work, but we did hear about this local church carnival, and so we (myself and Krista, the other chaperone) took the boys and we got some food on Verb's dollar. I had papusas, a Salvadorian dish my casamates constantly rave about. They were pretty good. I think they're filled with beans but I actually enjoyed it, which is abnormal. So that's good. Then I played this Spanish version of Bingo called Lotteria, which is essentially the exact same game but played with pictures instead of numbers.  I did not win. Obviously the little boy and the old lady who did were dirty cheaters.


Lotteria

The carnival was actually a pretty lame affair other than that. Pretty dead and not much to do. But, it was on Sunset Blvd and we had about a half hour left on our parking meter. I was not aware of this but we were parallel to Hollywood Blvd. Well, most of the boys had never seen it and wanted to check it out. And so, suddenly we were walking down Hollywood and through the walk of fame!

Batman and Mr. Freeze

It was quite a fun experience and we visited the lobbies of Hollywood's Museum of Guinness World Records and Ripley's Believe it Or Not "museum" and the Hollywood Wax Museum.

It was the first moment I've really felt like I'm in LA--I know the reason I'm here isn't to do the touristy stuff but I am here and only for a year so I've wanted to see some sights...so it was really good to get out of my neighborhood and somewhere other than the freeway and the distance between casa DK and Verb.

The rest of the night was spent playing Monopoly, eating pizza, and being entertained by the boys insulting each other and beating each other up because that's what high school guys do. Naturally they also had to draw penises on each other when they fell asleep.

In the morning we were off to St. Francis Center, where my casamate Rachel works as volunteer coordinator. It's a social service center that provides meals and a pantry to the homeless population in the area. I've visited there a couple times now and seeing the line of people waiting outside hasn't gotten easier. A couple of the boys helped out with finishing up serving breakfast while the rest prepped for the pantry program.

The pantry program is a mini grocery store setup where the people come through and can pick out different kinds of food from rice and beans to fruit and veggies and bread. It's a very nice system. Lots of people get fed...some are families, and a few of them I recognized from the last time I was there.

After we left St. Francis Center we had time to kill  before our lunch at Homegirl so we stopped at a nearby park and played soccer. I have no athletic skill, but no one really held it against me. I happened to be on a better team, though, so I get to pretend I won. That was a lot of fun.

Then we ate lunch at Homegirl Cafe, part of Homeboy Industries. Homeboy provides rehabilitation services and acts as a second chance for former gang members and incarcerated men and women. Many of these people have spent most of their lives incarcerated, missing out on raising children, being parts of families, leading a normal life. And Homeboy allows them a place to get work experience, offers free tattoo removal and classes and generally is a huge aid in establishing its homies as members of societies. My casamate, Kathryn, works at  Homeboy as an assitant case manager and it sounds like simply a phenomenal place. It was founded by Fr. Greg Boyle, who wrote the book Tattoos on the Heart, and he is the heart and soul of the organization, and in general an awesome dude to chat with over a couple sausages and a beer.

The food was delicious, which is no surprise, because every once in a while we get free bread from Kathryn. We had a good time hanging out and then were off to Skid Row to volunteer at Midnight Mission.

Skid Row is a bummer. It's part of downtown LA, and hosts the highest concentration of homelessness in the country. The streets are lined with cardboard shanties, tents, sleeping bags, and people. Lots of people with nowhere else to go. A few of my housemates work in this area and so I hear a lot about Skid Row and homelessness in general over dinner. And while you can't go anywhere in LA without seeing people living on the streets, Skid Row was a whole new level of understanding of just what this country has failed to do for its people. A person here or there on the streets, people coming in for a meal, that you can handle. That you can process.

But Skid Row is beyond comprehension--how does this exist in the United States? In the world? It is enraging and disheartening. And at the same time it was reinvigorating in a strange way--it recommitted me to working for justice somehow, in any way I can. Simply telling you how terrible and unreal Skid Row is is one way to do that, I guess, but it doesn't do its justice.

The pit that opened in the bottom of my stomach is beyond words. No photograph can capture the experience, no words can convey just what it's like--this place should not exist.

I've worked at a few kitchens and homeless social service organizations but it was never like the experience I had at The Midnight Mission. The sheer numbers, for one, were overwhelming. Two, there were so many young people--my age, not much older, early 30s. Many of them didn't look like your typical image of homelessness. Heart-rending.

When I got there I was assigned probably the lamest job I could think of--bussing. My exact thoughts were, "This sucks," because I was in the back by myself, not serving anything or helping the process of getting meals...probably the worst possible thing to do when you're volunteering, right?

Strangely, it was one of the most rewarding experiences I've ever had in a direct service capacity. I was admiring the work this mission does, the services it provides, the social atmosphere and familiarity amongst its patrons and even some of the volunteers. It's sad that these people are so established among their situation that they have formed these relationships, but it is also strangely encouraging. The warmth and presence of other people can keep you going, I suppose. I had a great chance to observe and simply "be," which is often times the best way to take in an experience.

I was also the last person most people saw before they left and went back to their lives. And so I got a lot of thanks for the work everyone was doing. That was powerful in its own way, because it's a tangible sign of making an impact, even if it's only small, even if it's only for the next few hours. I had a few people ask me for the leftovers (of which there was a surprising amount) before I tossed them.  And that was sad as well. How often does this man eat, I wondered.

But there was one moment, one man, in particular, that made the evening particularly special. It was after the crowd had disappeared, mostly, the line diminished, the work was slowed down, the dinner was through, he stopped and talked to me and the other guy bussing. He told us what great work we were doing, that the angels in heaven would recognize it, that it was brave and worthy and good karma. My initial reaction was to assume this man had a little something loose, because it wasn't that big a deal. He shouldn't be thanking me for anything. But he continued on, saying that we had to really humble ourselves and let go of our pride to help our fellow man in this way, and that it was admirable.

This stuck with me; it continues to stick with me. I think the impulse is to think the other way, that the people being served really have to humble themselves to accept this kind of service, and the temptation may be to think they resent our help. But this man, and so many other folks that evening were genuinely grateful.I don't know who the man was, will probably never see him again, and yet I can really say it was one of the few moments in my life that I would call a "God moment."

 I left Midnight Mission feeling reinvigorated, sure again of some kind of purpose. The weekend made me appreciate an aspect of this job I hadn't considered, and that was the fact that once a month I chaperone Saturday service trips, which means that once a month I volunteer to help others at different organizations. How cool is that?

That night we had reflection, and I was very impressed by what the students shared; they expressed a new point of view on all of this I had never experienced. A younger perspective, and in some ways, more naive, but the seed was there for an understanding of these profound issues, and certainly there was a clear commitment to continue that exploration.

They all also come from a minority perspective. All of the students were latino, (except one, who was black) and so they caught things that I, as a white person, would never have noticed, that I've never thought about, simply because my frame of reference is different. My social class is probably different, my entire view on the world is not the same as theirs. For example, they really noticed that almost all the people they saw  throughout the day were either latino or black. As low income minorities themselves, they were very attune to that fact while for me...well, that's just the way it was and it didn't even register to me. It really increased my awareness of the the economic inequality based on race, in that I never really understood how profound a burden that weighs on every young man at Verb. It's not just that they're low income, it's that they're low income minorities, and that is a whole new dimension of difficulty.

I was really impressed by what the boys shared during our reflection, and how much they got the point of it all. I think I underestimated them a little bit in their ability to grasp the implications of what they were doing and seeing. But they were very sensitive to the reality of what they were seeing, and though they may not be aware of the more complex issues surrounding it, they are dedicated to continuing the work. For some of them, perhaps it hit close to home in a way it never has and probably never will for me.

After reflection, we shifted gears, grabbed some frozen yogurt (which is a big thing in California) and played lots of fun retreat games, including mafia and ninja. It was great being in a familiar retreat/service trip setting, and it really helped me to feel comfortable again and to relax and open up.

All in all, I had a blast spending the weekend with the students, and had one of the most meaningful volunteer experiences in my life. With all said and done, it brought me new life, renewed purpose, and some confidence to carry me forward for the rest of the year.

I tried to bring a little Cabrini with me to the experience, including this prayer  we shared during our Search meetings and on Project Appalachia last year which has always resonated profoundly with me and I thought fit the weekend's mission.

Look around you people of God

Look around you

Who is the person sitting next to you?

The person next to you is the greatest miracle and the greatest mystery you will ever meet, at this moment a testament of the Word made flesh, of God’s continuing Advent into the world, into our midst.

The person next to you is a unique universe of experience, alive with necessity and possibility, dread and desire, comedy and tragedy, fear and hope.

The person next to you longs to become something in particular, to arrive at some destination, to tell or sing a story, to be known and to know.

The person next to you believes in something, stands for something, counts for something, labors for something, runs for something, waits for something.

The person next to you is a whole colony of persons met during his lifetime, a community in which still loves a mother and father, a friend, an enemy.

The person next to you can do some things well, some better than most; there is something her one life on earth means and cares for; does she speak of this to you?

The person next to you can live with you, not just alongside; he can live for you as well as for himself; he can confront, encounter and esteem you—if you want him to; in turn, his point of view can be appreciated by others.

The person next to you cannot be fully understood; she is more than any description or explanation; she can never be fully controlled.

The person next to you is a mystery—as the word made flesh is a mystery.

And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us.

So people of God

Look around you

For God is here.

Homecoming

Friday was Verb's big homecoming game, which meant that this week was spirit week. I'm sure everyone remembers how big a deal that is in high school. I remember it being one of the few times I ever found myself getting involved with school--making posters...riding a big wheel in the pep rally races, taking part in our class skit. I was never big on school spirit, but Verbum Dei is a different kind of school and these boys are proud to be Eagles (mostly).

Verb's staff encourages (almost forces) this theme and idea of brotherhood, and the Jesuit value of being "men with and for others." All in preparation for getting these kids from rough backgrounds, in worse cases growing up in homes experiencing missing parents, abuse, poverty, some even living without homes for a time in some cases into college. Verb is a Cristo Rey school, and so part of the curriculum includes a Corporate Work Study Program which gets these guys into real work experience at real jobs around Los Angeles--giving them a huge leg up in college applications and the world in general. They are being given real responsibility and real work, so that they can better understand the purpose and benefits of working hard. More importantly, CWSP (that's what they call it at Verb) provides these young men the opportunity to feel like they have potential, and puts them on level footing with people in the corporate world, thus showing them that they are capable of reaching those goals.

Verb is all about helping these boys reach those goals. It encourages them to get involved, makes it a requirement to join clubs and sports and really push themselves. But most importantly it makes the future achievable by showing them that they have assets to offer these schools.

Check this video out, it gives you a better image of what this school accomplishes than I could. And don't be fooled, this isn't just a fluff piece or an exaggerated story, the things this school does really are amazing.

I watched this video on my first day as an orientation, and it is still as powerful as it was then. Perhaps moreso now. The guy Jesse, who talks about wanting to teach in the city, and maybe at Verb does just that now as part of a teaching fellowship with LMU, and a few of those little guys who speak are bigtime seniors now.

The school is strict--JUGS (detentions) are handed out for most any infraction, and they are held responsible for all of their actions. Dress code violations, not doing homework, not paying attention...they are held to a much higher standard than your average school. Their curriculum is, frankly, astounding, as nearly every student who comes into Verb is a grade or two below what their academic level should be. Not of any fault of their own, they're smart guys, the public school system just fails impoverished areas to an astounding degree. By the time they graduate they are prepared, if not completely ready for college. They work from day-one with the goal of getting into college, and the College Guidance office works with them from the beginning straight-on through. The attention they get from faculty and staff is much different than I ever experienced in high school, they are treated like adults, and yes they get disciplined and such, but they are also respected, not talked down to, and treated with a level of comfort and camaraderie that is not typical of the normal teacher/student relationship.


Anyway...I was talking about homecoming. This week was spirit week, so there were different themes every day leading up to homecoming. Disney Day, Sports Day, 70s Day, Nerd Day, and Friday was Blue and Gold (the school colors.) So not surprisingly the guys got into it because it got them out of their uniforms, but the faculty and staff were also super-into it. I even got into the spirit a little on nerd day and wore my Superman shirt.

Friday was the culmination of that most sacred of high school traditions. Homecoming! The staff made sure this was an appropriately huge deal. There was a shortened schedule and pep rally at the end of the day. The guys got really into it--cheering for their class, stomping their feet, making noise. There were even cheerleaders for a local high school to help bring some added spirit. These guys talk a big game about girls and their football, so it was pretty entertaining to see them applaud the girls. I didn't experience the all-boys thing, but for some of these guys it is a frustration. Most of them get over it, though.

They presented the nominees for homecoming king, and they each made promises about what they'd change at the school (from what little I could hear it was outrageous things like eliminating detention and such) and the degree to which a lot of the guys hammed it up was quite hilarious. A lot of the boys think they are the coolest thing since sliced bread...which I am trying to quit my judgment on--because this is high school and that's what high school kids often think of themselves.

One of the coolest things about the rally was this one nominee for King. He's autistic, but in a way that actually empowers him a great deal--he is fearless. A lot of people are just incredibly self conscious and afraid to just get out there and do things or simply be themselves but this young man is just purely himself and honest. When his name was called the entire room erupted. Teachers and students alike made more noise for him than anyone else. At first I thought there was some irony to this, but I overheard another teacher talking about him at the game, and he explained that the kids react to him very genuinely for his fearlessness. Last year he was the only one not afraid to get out there in front of everyone for a dance-off against the cheerleaders (something they did again this year). He got out there, had fun and hammed it up and everyone at the school appreciated that and responded to it positively. He engages in class and speaks up and is probably one of the most genuine people you'll ever meet... He wound up winning Homecoming King later that night at the game as well, which was awesome. He reprised his dance moves this year at the rally and although he only placed second, the senior class (who he was representing at the dance competition) rushed out of the stands and applauded his effort and gave him props. And well deserved....he was the most entertaining person on the floor.

There were also try-outs for this year's Eagle and while the first two were snoozers the last guy was awesome and cracked us all up.

The game itself was a lot of fun, and although Verb didn't win the game, there was something really exciting and invigorating about being in that space. I felt much more comfortable and at ease than I ever do at work and I even went and chatted with some teachers and staff during the game. It's been a huge process for me to make connections at work with either the students or the professionals and so I made a point last night of going down and standing with them a little bit. I chatted with Jesse (the Verb alum) and Father Mike and genuinely felt like myself for maybe the first time since I've been in California.

There was so much staff support present and I was overcome with a real feeling of community that I had felt ostracized from so far this year. I felt very comfortable and at ease in the stands and cheered the team on. It was awesome to see how into it the students and staff were, it was a genuine desire to see these boys do well and a genuine interest in them as people more than just the football game. I suppose it rubbed off on me.  I never got high school sports, and I think in most cases I still don't. But Verb is a special place and the people who work there are so extremely committed to these students and social justice issues in general. Sitting in the faculty lounge I've heard a lot of very interesting conversations about social injustices and inequality and all sorts of things. These people really care and to be in an environment of well-informed, dedicated men and women is one thing I feel very fortunate for, even if I have yet to feel I am contributing.

As for the game itself, the first half was really exciting--two touchdowns that were pretty much run down the length of the field. But they fell apart after half time, sadly. Most of my housemates came to the game as well and helped cheer on the boys. It was a ton of fun, and I found myself continually wanting to start the (Philadelphia) Eagles chant or the fight song but felt a little self conscious. Maybe next time I'll work up the courage.