True Heroes Under God

"You are all THUGS: True Heroes Under God."

If I could capture the essence of Verbum Dei, this brilliant piece of wordplay spoken by one of our JEDIS (Jesuit Educated Disciples in Service, the student campus ministry team), would be it. Verb is located in Watts, right on South Central Avenue and adjacent to the Nickerson Gardens Housing Projects, one of the largest housing projects in the US. Verb serves young men from the surrounding communities who come from low-income backgrounds. These inner-city boys have not had much access to quality education and many have not had much access to safety or stability. Verb provides that. The boys like to think of themselves as tough guys. They're teenagers, and most of them have huge egos. But they're much more than that outer bravado, more than just "thugs," which the world is most likely to think of a black or latino kid from South Central. They are "men with and for others."

I’ve struggled a lot this year with feeling useless. It's been difficult dealing with homesickness, a long distance relationship, and community obligations. A lot of it crept into work. Sometimes I feel like I've made a mistake, or that I would be doing better for the people I love if I hadn't left. What am I really doing for the students at Verb? As an introvert, my job has been challenging. There are days I don't feel like I'm doing anything. I've sat and pondered and written and reevaluated the choices and experiences that brought me to Los Angeles. I've spent many long nights and shed a few tears because of this heartache. I've thought about leaving.

But something has kept me here the last six months; what exactly that is has eluded me. In many ways I feel like things would move forward in exactly the same way at my placement were I to leave. My contribution is pretty minimal, all things considered.

Did I really come here to make a difference? I don't think I ever truly believed I was going to change any lives. Sure, I thought I was better prepared for the transition and that I would be able to be more active and involved, but even if I were…would I recognize that? I have a hunch that at my job, when day-to-day I see students and am there for really nothing else than to hang out I wouldn't ever really feel like I was doing any good. I've helped out writing a few college essays, answered a few questions, but have I really done anything for the boys at Verb? I don't know. I probably never will. And so my job has been a struggle. Day-to-day I never know what work is going to be like. Some days I've sat and done little more than paperwork and punched service hours into an excel file. Other days I've sat and helped a student pour over his Common App supplements and essays. Chatted about video games during lunch.  What good are these things?

And so, again, I returned to what brought me here. That's when I realized: I came to LA for myself. This has been a harrowing realization. Is that selfish? I came here to learn. To discover more of myself and the world and my place in it. On more than one occasion before I came here I wondered if I would come away with things to write about.

Sometimes I feel exploitative, wanting these things. I can't imagine any JV doesn't feel this way at times. But I think it’s more self-important to think I could come here and fix anything or make some kind of significant impact or change a person's life. This isn't my world, I’m just a small part of it.

But, still, at work I struggle a lot with not doing much. My housemates have amazing jobs doing direct service work at placements in which they are integral parts of the operation. My title has "assistant" right there at the end of it.

I think the real selfishness is thinking that anything I do can really make a difference.

"Don't set out to change the world," Father Greg Boyle said at a conference I attended recently, "Set out to wonder how other people are doing. And the world will change around you."

Every once in a while things happen at work and I get why I'm here.

The quote I opened with was spoken at our Junior Retreat. The day closed with a simple activity: stand up if this statement applies to you. Statements included being victims of abuse (physical, sexual), feeling judged or unsafe because of race, coming from a single-parent household, knowing someone in a gang, having thoughts of suicide, drug use, feeling depressed more than happy, feeling fear walking down the street, and more. Far too many kids stood up for each and every statement. These are 16,17 year old boys. The amount that they've been through broke my heart. And then immediately after they repaired it and inspired me. The students went in a circle and said how they felt about the activity. Several of these boys defied their gender stereotypes and expressed their love for the entire class and thanked their classmates, said they would do anything for any one of their brothers. One student was so moved and angered by what people stood up for, and simply wanted to express his love for each person. He wanted to help anyone who ever needed him. He started to cry and the entire class came and embraced him. This is but a small slice of that two hours…and it certainly does it no justice.

I have never felt so privileged and humbled to be a witness to something.

And this, I think, is what I come to: maybe I am mostly importantly a witness. Maybe I'm not here to help any one individual, maybe I'm meant to be a voice, to share these stories… To cry out in anger how unjust this world can be for condemning these talented, loving, intelligent THUGs, simply because they were born here. To refuse to accept when people sit there and tell me that poverty is a result of laziness when these boys work so hard to get to college and everything in their life is stacked against them. When their parents or guardians work so hard to provide them with a quality education.

I never thought I'd save any lives…I just wanted to know their lives. And in the knowing, maybe I can help challenge others to see the reality that these boys live, simply because I was there to witness it.

A Mass for Peace

Today at Dolores Mission (the best and most life-giving parish church I've ever been to) there was a held a very special liturgy. DM is a parish in Boyle Heights, a community that has for many years dealt with violence. Today they held a liturgy in remembrance of those who have died as a result of gun violence. They had names projected at the front of the church. Several people in the assembly (too many) stood up and were invited to the altar to remember loved ones who have died because of gun violence. One parishioner shared his story of grieving for and coping with the death of his brother; the wounds may heal temporarily, but stories of other killings reopen them. It is a scar that will forever haunt him.

Father Scott gave a sermon about our country's addiction to violence (and that's what it is). He explained the need for a change in attitudes about guns because they so often find their ways into cities (and increasingly, suburbs) where so many are killed by guns annually around the country. This is so often forgotten: how common killings are. Sadly, it takes a string of deadly mass-shootings to bring this harrowing problem to light. Around 2009 research showed that more than 30,000 people are killed by firearms each year in this country; more than 30 shot and killed each day. 1/2 of them are between 18 and 35. Homicide is the second leading cause of death among 15-24 year-olds. These are the statistics that were read to us in mass. Additionally, Father Scott read this powerful letter to the editor he sent into  and was printed in the LA Times.

As the nation wrestles with the question of whether to ban assault weapons, people in our inner cities know a simple truth: There are too many guns on our streets, and this can be directly linked to the high numbers of homicides that are sadly a regular part of our lives.

This past summer there were four homicides within a span of 62 days within a square mile of Dolores Mission Parish, just a few miles east of downtown Los Angeles. Since 1980, when the Jesuits came to this parish, we have experienced the deaths of some 200 community members to gun violence.

Though not the only angle on the issue, I have to believe that if there were tighter gun control laws in our country, fewer guns would find themselves on the streets of our inner cities. And more of my parishioners would be alive.
The Rev. Scott Santarosa
Los Angeles

 I truly wish that so many people who claim that guns are not a problem could see this side of things. Yes, you live in the suburbs and in this wonderful world where the chances of violence are incredibly low, but there are so many--SO MANY--who are simply forced to live in areas where gun violence is rampant. They suffer threats of violence as simply a fact of life, and have to deal with the death of loved ones. And why? Because there are too many guns. Because they are minorities with low income. Hard working people, who simply have no other options. There is no reason for the most dangerous automatic weapons to be out there and so easy to access. There is no reason for it to be so EASY for guns to end up in the hands of those who would harm others.

Gun violence is not just the rare mass-shooting. It is a terrifying reality for people in low-income areas. For some of the students at Verbum Dei, for the parishioners of Dolores Mission. The children of Dolores Mission. One of my students for one of his college submission personal statements wrote about one day being mugged at gun point because he happened to be walking through a park that belonged to a gang that hated Mexicans. That isn't terribly uncommon in parts of this city and many others around the country.

I'm not going to bother rattling off statistics I actually did look up and research for this blog post. I don't want to be too political. But the fact is there are almost as many guns in this country as people. How that is OK with people I don't understand. How it is OK to suggest that to solve this country's violence problem we need MORE guns is horrifying.

Too many people are killed. We need a change in attitude in this country, a push for peace, not a push for more "self defense" that will, as many graphs, charts, statistics and surveys show, will most likely only increase the violence and cost more lives.

But hey, these killings aren't white kids en masse, so it isn't really happening, right?

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.