Living in LA

It's never dark in LA. It reminds me of a conversation I had with my physics friend Matt. He talked about light pollution one night when we were driving around town and it was very humid and almost-fogging. The flood lights from a nearby park extended for miles--we could not place where this light was coming from, after all, it was never that bright. But the air was moist and the fog was beginning, and the light traveled.

The skyline towers within view most places I go. Their heights stretch upward, taking over the horizon. The light from these buildings stretch outward, flooding the night sky with their neon luminescence. The night is full of condensation from the warm afternoons. It doesn't rain here often but the difference in temperature brings with it foggy air. I'm sure the smog spreads the light as well. Last Friday as I drove in the humid air, because it actually rained for once, I drove down this street that has a clear view of the city skyline. There were spotlights dancing in the air and it looked like the sky was on fire. Clouds? Moisture? Fog? Smog? Maybe a mix of it all.

The smog. You need a car in LA to get around. Public transportation is unreliable, slow, and inconvenient. How can a city full of so many drivers be full of so many people who cannot drive?

Living in LA is bizarre. How can a city with the most millionaires also be the place of the most people who are homeless in this country? Contradictions. LA is contradictions. I drive down South Central Ave in Watts to get to work and drive past homelessness, intense poverty. Walking down Hollywood Boulevard, where the names of the famous and wealthy are at your feet, you are surrounded by people without a place to go home to.  Life here makes little sense. And on many occasions I find myself wondering if this is really my life right now, how I got here, and what this experience will teach me, what I will walk away from remembering. I don't think it will be seeing the Hollywood sign for the first time, or the time that I drove past Burbank. It will be the mornings I drive past the man off of the 105, asking for recyclables. The man in the wheelchair across the street panhandling. It will be the boys--the boy who told me that he was going to write about the period that he was homeless for his personal statement, the boy who bought a man outside the Chinese Food place dinner, the boy who never thought homelessness was anything but lack of motivation who chose to sleep outside in solidarity with them in order to learn more about the world. I'll remember the first time I saw Skid Row.

I'm sure the Los Angeles people will ask me about when I go home for Christmas is not the Los Angeles I have lived in. And I do not regret this fact. I would rather see this LA--the real LA before I put on my blinders and admire the famous handprints, the insanity of Venice Beach. This is the LA I was brought here to see, and to share with others.

Remembering the Women Martyrs

December 2, 1980, four women were kidnapped, raped, and murdered by agents of the El Salvadoran government in the midst of intense violence and war. These women did nothing but aid the poor, empower them, and bear witness to their suffering. These women were named Dorothy Kazel, Maura Clarke, Ita Ford, and Jean Donovan. The three LA JV houses (formerly four) were named after these women. This year I live in Casa Dorothy Kazel and after tonight, I am very proud. Their dedication to their mission is intense and inspiring, and invigorates my own call to service.

Tonight, Mount St. Mary College held a prayer service in honor of these sisters. It was coordinated by Sisters of St Joseph of Carondelet. Many Maryknoll Sisters (the order to which Maura Clarke and Ita Ford belonged) were present. This is the thirty second memorial service that they have held. Many women present knew the martyrs. To hear so many people inspired by, touched by, and empowered by their sacrifice and mission was moving.

Tonight I was proud to be serving this year, to be making some small sacrifice and to be living in the house I am. I felt tonight, in the presence of so many women religious (truly inspiring people), and in the spirit of these brave martyrs, that I was carrying on a rich legacy of truly amazing people. At least a little bit. I don't claim to be as dedicated, as strong, or brave as the women who died 32 years ago, and perhaps I never would be, but I am inspired by them, reinvigorated by them, and proud to be a member of Casa Dorothy Kazel.

And I found a few quotes from letters that these women wrote that inspire me and will continue to as this year goes forward.






"El Salvador, Savior of the World, is writhing in pain – a country that daily faces the loss of so many of its people – and yet a country that is waiting, hoping, yearning for peace. The steadfast faith and courage our leaders have to continue preaching the Word of the Lord, even though it may mean laying down your life in the very REAL sense, is always a point of admiration and a vivid realization that JESUS is HERE with us. Yes, we have a sense of waiting, hoping, and yearning for a complete realization of the Kingdom, and yet we know it will come because we can celebrate Him here right now.” Dorothy Kazel, OSU





"I see in this work a channel for awakening real concern for the victims of injustice in today's world, a means to work for change, and to share deep concern for the sufferings of the poor and marginated, the non-persons of our human family." Maura Clarke, MM





"Several times I have decided to leave El Salvador. I almost could except for the children, and poor bruised victims of this insanity. Who would care for them? Whose heart would be so staunch as to favor the reasonable thing in a sea of their tears and helplessness. Not mine, dear friend, not mine.” Jean Donovan





“Am I willing to suffer with these people here, the suffering of the powerless, the feeling impotent? Can I say to my neighbors, I have no solutions to this situation? I don’t have answers, but I will walk with you, search with you, be with you. Can I let myself be evangelized by this opportunity? Can I look at and accept my own poorness as I learn it from the poor ones?” Ita Ford, MM




The sisters (truly amazing people--and so happy to meet us and wished us well so warmly) gave this blessing to those present, and this too, inspired me.

May you continue to be a remarkable sign of the living God,

Fearlessly contend against evil,

make no peace with oppression,

strive to be a shining witness of reconciliation and friendship,

reach across boundaries and barriers

to form community with all people of good will.

And may God who has loved you without measure and without regret,

fill you with the blessings of Jesus Christ,

the refreshment of the Spirit, and the joyful unity of the triune God.

Sr. Clare Dunn

Sr. Judy Lovchik, CSJ

Giving thanks

It is the night before Thanksgiving and I am beginning to feel a little sad. I suppose it's natural--Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday not because I love turkey (but it helps) but because to me it has always been about the intentional sharing of time, breaking bread with people I care about. A chance to simply gather and be present to the people we love and be mindful of all of our wonderful gifts. Being away from home, I knew, would be tough on Thanksgiving, but I think I might be underestimating it if I feel it already today.

But even in that there is so much to be thankful for and to continue to be cognizant of.

I spent the last two evenings at Verbum Dei taking part in homeless awareness week. Campus Ministry organized a sleepout in solidarity and a number of students, as well as faculty and staff, slept out through the night with nothing but cardboard and sleeping bags on Verb's campus. It was a very enlightening experience, not so much for what I got out of it through sleeping outside (it wasn't that hard for me...I swear it's colder in  my house than it was these last two fairly mild nights--mid-50s isn't all that cold, as I'm sure all you eastcoasters will agree) but more because of what the students learned from it. I honestly didn't feel like there was all that much to the experience--yes we slept outdoors but before that they were playing on the computer, or messing around, or doing homework. But, I think the speakers we had struck them.

I am also trying to keep in mind how much more homelessness is part of their lives--the area they live in, the neighborhood Verbum Dei is located, are full of people without homes. And I was especially struck by how much they seemed to grow in understanding, and even that they were willing to take part in this week, given how exposed to it they are on such a common basis. I think at that age it would be a lot easier to just be creeped out or annoyed by it. But they went out of their way to try and understand those circumstances, which I think is incredibly cool and inspiring.

The boys reacted a lot to what we did and had great things to say in discussion--a lot of them recognized the difficult and diverse factors that could cause someone to become homeless. And if they didn't before a lot of them began to learn and change their perspective.

Some common themes: being thankful for what we have, changing the conversation about homelessness (not demeaning them with names, encouraging others to rethink their stereotypes), giving them attention in some way, even small ones, like a smile or a short exchange if not a full blown conversation, and simply not making snap judgments about how they got into that situation. Many of them had never considered how many possible ways or reasons there are for homelessness: natural disaster, domestic violence, mental illness, the general poor nature of the economy and job market, lack of affordable housing and so with all of those possible reasons many for the first time realized that it isn't necessarily a person's bad choices that leads them to the streets.

Many of the boys admitted to having certain assumptions--if not laziness, then drug abuse or even some kind of enjoyment out of being without a home--but through our speakers, a woman who was formerly homeless (who sadly, I missed), one of the boys' fathers who works at LAMP (a local shelter) and the discussions and experiences of other students and some of the staff, they started to see that many assumptions are simply stereotypes and are harmful.

One of the guys on the last night of reflection briefly shared his experience with homelessness; when he was in eighth grade his mother fled an abusive husband in the middle of the night. They spent several months at family's homes and traveling around in different places. He struggled with depression and weight gain, but luckily in the end they were able to get back onto their feet. His household still struggles a great deal with money, but he said he grew a great deal from the experience. And he's a smart kid, one of the top in the class. He has dreams of traveling to the east coast, specifically Washington DC and I think he can get just about anywhere he wants to go.

Another student shared a story about simply sharing a meal with a man who often sat outside of a Chinese restaurant he frequents.

The way these boys showed their openness to growth, their desire to learn, and a level of awareness of the great things in their life really inspired me. I was inspired even more by the stories the two aforementioned students shared.

There isn't a better time to do an event like this than Thanksgiving, when we take time out of our busy lives to assess and profess the blessings in our lives, and all of these events made me incredibly thankful to be here in LA this year.

I am thankful for this opportunity to take part in JVC. That I can voluntarily take a year out of my life and choose to live this way. That I have been granted a chance to share in the experience of these boys as they grow into men, and see through their eyes a world that I could never have experienced because of who I am. I am thankful for my housemates and extended community in LA who have provided me laughs and support these three months. I am thankful for my family for supporting me and loving me throughout my life. For being there for me to cry with. For taking care of me when I was ill so I could grow into who I am today. For a roof over my head. For having so many possible opportunities for next year and beyond.  I am thankful for Sara. For reminding me that I am a person worth investing in. For listening and accepting all of my insecurities, doubts, and imperfections. For being willing to go through the strain of a long distance relationship. For eight fantastic months. I am thankful for yet another year of continued health. I am thankful for all of my friends at home, from Cabrini. Though I have done an incredibly poor job of keeping in touch, you have all, each of you reading this, been amazing, beautiful, fantastic parts of my life, helped contribute positively to forming me into who I am, and I cannot convey enough how glad I am to have met so many amazing people! I am thankful for my education, and the fact that applying to college was so easy for me. I am thankful for today. I am thankful that I won't wake up tomorrow wondering what I might eat or where I might have to sleep.

I am thankful. So thankful.  Life is beautiful.

A Fall Visit Home

October was a bit of a hectic month for me and there were a couple of extra days worked over the weekends. Which I did not mind at all. But I decided to use that time as an opportunity to make a short visit home to see my family and Sara! Well, it was supposed to be short, in the end I spent a week at home due to Hurricane Sandy. I suppose worse things have happened. :)

 It was really great seeing my family and Sara again. I've been incredibly homesick and it felt good to be around familiar faces and people who I love. On Thursday night, my first night home I traveled to Cabrini to visit Fr. Carl (who had no idea I was coming!) and Stephanie and have dinner with Campus Ministry at President George's swanky digs. That was all such a fantastic feeling; it reminded me where I'm coming from and it was just plain fun to hang out with some great people. It was like no time had passed.

Looking good takes work, folks...

The next day I visited Dr. Wright and Dr. Filling a little bit and talked grad-school plans because I'm trying to keep all of my options right now and that is a very real one! After that Sara and I went to Linvilla Orchards to enjoy fall! We picked pumpkins, went on a hayride followed by a bonfire with marshmallows and apple cider. It was a beautiful day and so much fun. I've had so much fun traveling and getting out and doing different things with Sara in the five months before coming to LA and spending the day with her again it was as if we hadn't even been apart.

And I can't even begin to explain how much I missed fall! I never realized how much I loved the season until I didn't have it. Maybe I wouldn't have even known it if I didn't come to visit. And I picked the perfect time; it was just when the leaves were getting their most colorful and before the trees started to become bare. Cabrini's campus is beautiful (and a large reason why I chose the school) and it is so year 'round but it's hard to top fall there. You can't beat the East Coast in October. You just can't.

Fall! Ah how I missed the scenery of home.

Picking the right pumpkins is a skill...We both have it.

A picture from our relaxing hayride through the Orchards. Great chance to see fall up close!

So us, right?

Well, after we left Linvilla, we decided to return to the site of our first date, The Cheesecake Factory! Sara was craving some pumpkin cheesecake, because she loves all things pumpkin flavored in the fall. And who can blame her? After that, I stopped at home and saw my parents! Later still, we carved our pumpkins. Can you guess whose is whose? The next day I had dinner with my parents, grandparents, and Aunt Dorothy. It was muchos fun and incredibly relaxing.

Saturday night I crashed my brother's Halloween party--Kevin, Bridget, Tina, and Paul had no idea I was coming home and they were quite surprised to see me. It was awesome seeing them all again and even better to do it as a surprise.

Sunday night the original plan was to hang out at Cabrini and go to mass, which I was looking forward to a lot, I've missed that aspect of the Cabrini community immensely, but unfortunately, Hurricane Sandy was on the way and campus was asked to leave. Bummer!  On the bright side though, it did interfere with my flight and I wound up "stranded" at home with loved ones. Oh noooooo!!!

Those last few days at home were incredibly refreshing, fun, and invigorating. I've been struggling a lot with homesickness and it was nice to just sit around and play board games with Jack and Sara and just be around my mom and dad.

Being home was like a reset button for me emotionally. Having spent the last couple months around brand new people and having to stress about and exert so much effort into getting to know them it was a soothing reminder to simply be with people I know and love. It's so easy to take for granted that kind of relationship, and I have always tried to be very mindful of how blessed I am to have that at home, but to have not had that for a significant period of time now, to be with people so familiar and loving again was an amazing reminder of how important and life-giving it is.

My last night home Sara and I decided we needed to get out of the house--and so we grabbed a pair of ten-dollar Sixers tickets and made our way to the Wells Fargo Center. To our surprise, it was the season opener! It was a lot of fun, and they had a lot of different things to do, and in fact we missed the first half of the game exploring the place--because I have never been to the Center before, and Sara had never even been to a Sixers game! They had a craft table to color in signs, balloon hats and animals and Sara even got her face painted!

They even had Fix-it Felix Jr!

The night before leaving was incredibly difficult. More than I thought, actually. Leaving Jack again was oddly heartbreaking (odd simply because I didn't expect it) and even the thought of being away from family and Sara and the things that bring me comfort that I don't have to work at was heart-rending for a little while.

But the morning on my drive to the airport I held Sara's hand, looked out into the Philadelphia skyline as the sun was only beginning to rise and I felt calm. These things are part of who I am and distance, in the end, while difficult, does not make them less so. I am comforted in the knowledge that I will always have a place to call home full of people who love and support me...and that is the greatest gift I could ever hope for.

Courage

So often we think of courage as the "absence of fear." An invulnerability and almost superhuman idea that we, as imperfect beings can eschew something so fundamental to the human experience. But that's not really it, is it? No, we are all afraid of things. This year I am learning that more and more from the people I live with--my fears are not solitary and it is comforting to know that it does not make me weak to be afraid. Courage is not the absence of fear...it is the ability to overcome it, the will to climb those mountains. If there's one thing I learned from Green Lantern comics over the last few years it's that courage without fear is not healthy, and to be afraid is to admit we are human. What makes us brave or strong is the decision to work through that fear. Hal Jordan, Kyle Rayner, John Stewart, and Guy Gardner are Green Lanterns not because they're "men without fear," but because they have "The ability to overcome great fear." And that's something kind of cool...that we normal people can overcome the things that scare us and be stronger for it. We have to accept our fear, look it in the eye, and then punch it in the face. That's what the Sinestro Corps War was about, I think.

In brightest day, in blackest night no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might beware my power...

People have sometimes called me brave for things I had no control over. For dealing with Crohn's, for going through the feeding tube, the surgery, the years of illness. But I never had a choice over those things. I didn't overcome anything. At least, I never thought I did. If you can even call those ten years living, I guess I persevered.

My last few years have been about trying to rediscover who I am not as defined by my Crohn's. To face fears of making friends, building relationships, finding what I'm good at. At college I accomplished a lot of that, overcame many fears, but I am realizing it was never fully conquered. There is still so much to learn about courage, about who I am, and how I can move past the things that make me afraid.
I feel guilty very often. I cannot place why. This year, leaving home, leaving family, my girlfriend-- the life I knew-- behind, I have been dealing with that a lot. It has proved incredibly challenging in being present to my work and community here. Where does the guilt stem from? Why does it so often feel like I have done something wrong? Every decision I make I second guess. I have always been this way. Are my decisions negatively effecting anyone? Hurting them? They could be. Throughout my life I have been afraid to make friends for fear that I was imposing--guilty for infringing on there time. Do I simply feel as if I take more than I give? That I need and want thing so badly that I only view my relationships insofar as they benefit me, or that I am the only one who is privileged to be in what is supposed to be a give-and-take relationship? Perhaps I have not found my value, yet. Maybe part of why I feel guilty is simply because I am afraid to accept that I have a purpose and strength and gifts to share. That people could possibly want to be in my life. Who am I to be special?

At Cabrini I had things which brought me comfort. I had goals--tangible, concrete ones. This brought me pride and real results. But now as I go forward beyond college...I am afraid of what comes next. What do those skills I learned in college really offer me in the next phase of my life? How does my high GPA translate into success? How can I continue benefitting others the way I want to do and have done so much at Cabrini? It's hard to be courageous when you don't know what your strengths are. How do you overcome fear when you feel completely unequipped?

JVC was a decision I made because I knew there was more growing I needed to do, but I am realizing how much my life is still defined by my time struggling with Crohn's Disease. People have told me that I am brave for doing this...but I haven't felt particularly brave the last few months. Is it courage to simply persevere? I don't know. I have had a hard time facing those fears that I look at every day: shyness, knowledge, skill, compassion. The courage to be open and stop being afraid that my presence is a burden to others. I have to own myself. I am defined by what I could not do for so long that I still don't know what I can do. I still don't know who I really am--where my passions lie.  I've realized lately I've never thought about the future becasue I've been so afraid that the future could be taken from me because of my illness. It was easier to just figure it out as I go so I didn't have to be disappointed.

But recently I've wanted to dream, to imagine. I suppose I have to as far as careers go. But that all requires that I face my fears of inadequacy, shyness, lack of value, and figure out who I am and what I enjoy, to look at my relationships and find what is there that people have responded to. To examine what makes those things work, how I can bolster them, and how I can continue to make more. Because I care about so many people, people I haven't met, people I barely know, and in order to be fully able to find a way to continue to help others I have to have the courage to be vulnerable, to own my fears and not let them stop me.
But fear can be all consuming. Where has my courage come from? What is my model of courage? What brings me hope when things are tough? Well, I often turn to super heroes for inspiration. Perhaps this is a naive notion, but I don't really think so. I believe the reason that they are such a part of our entire culture is because they show us all our greatest hope, our truest potential: that there are people who put everything before themselves and use their gifts to help others. There's something deeper at play in the existence of Superman in our world. It's Superman that shows us all what we can aspire toward, what we can do for one another.

“I don’t believe that the world is broken. Because when we say the world, we’re really talking about people. It’s always been my belief that people, at their core, are good. The grace of mankind is everywhere. You just have to open your eyes. Humanity has a limitless potential for good. My purpose is to help people reach that potential.”

Last year I wrote a paper that I am very proud of on Superman and in it I explored the relevence of Superman as a character and the superhero as a genre, and it made me even more proud to care so much about these characters and this often maligned genre. Superman is one of my greatest inspirations, and he keeps me hopeful about this world. Because if this supremely powerful character can exist and the culture at large can still believe a man like him could be there to benefit us all, then that speaks to something incredibly positive inside all of us if that dream can persist for more than 70 years.

I titled my blog what I did for a reason, because when I am sad I turn to super heroes to remind me why I should keep going. Because we can all benefit others, because we can all be hope for others, because we can all do something. And Superman believes in us all, fights for truth, justice, and the American way. For freedom, for equality, for the right to dream. The quote beneath my blog title comes from one of my favorite comics, "What's So Funny About, Truth, Justice, and the American Way?" and speaks to me on a new level as I go through this year. There's nothing wrong with believing in a better world and dreaming of a future. It's not out of reach, it's just a matter of each of us pitching in, working together...and being a little more like Superman.

"Dreams save us. Dreams lift us up and transform us. And on my soul I swear… until my dream of a world where dignity, honor and justice becomes the reality we all share… I’ll never stop fighting. Ever.”

I have kept Superman in my life since I arrived in California. At orientation one of the activities was to draw our idea of "God." I drew Superman's symbol, not because I see a correlation between the two but because to me, the ideal of Superman is the Christian ideal. He represents a pure sense of optimism and belief in good in this world that is simply not found anywhere else in the 21st century. To me, Superman represents the beauty of the human spirit, and the best in all of us.

But what does this all have to do with courage? Because Superman reminds me to be courageous. My family reminds me to be courageous, my girlfriend, my friends, my casamates. Because we are all in this together, and I owe it to each of them as much as to myself to discover who I am and what I have to offer and face my fears and be courageous. So that I can be a better man for them and, perhaps as importantly I am realizing for the first time, for myself. I cannot continue to hide. The first step is to simply stand up. After all, like Superman reminds us in one of the most powerful single pages in the history of comic books...

"It's never as bad as it seems. You're much stronger than you think you are. Trust me."

I'm not alone. None of us are. We are all human. We all battle with our fears, our own super villains. But that's what makes us human. And we all have the ability to overcome great fear.

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.