The last couple of weeks have been challenging (in a productive way) at work. The whole experience has had me thinking about when it is that we choose to and forgot to acknowledge the people around us who help us get through our struggles. For as many times as my parents and family members have been there for me over the years, I rarely take the time to thank them for their encouragement, financial and emotional support...and even their patience with my character defects. In college and in the Peace Corps, so many dear friends cared for me through finals, break-ups, food-born illness, depression, when I was broke, scrubbing toilets with a bag of coins to eat on. At the age of 27, I'm still completely dependent on work colleagues and good friends who hold me accountable and share their knowledge to make sure I can do more than I could on my own. I haven't expressed my gratitude for the help that I've received over the years. Thank you all.
I've gotten complimented lately on being good-hearted, and I can't help but feel that I'm not giving credit properly. Every time, I shake my head inside, because I know better. I have a list at least 100 things long of what I do wrong on a regular basis:
1. Lazy
2. Disorganized
3. Critical - especially of family
4. Over-indulgent
5. Procrastinator
6. Fixed mindset
7. Slowest grader ever
8. Easily frustrated at my students/quick to anger
9. Forgetful
10. Self-centered
11. Often thinking about the past or the future more than in the present
...This is just naming a few. And we all have our own list. We hide it if we can, and let the good shine through.
I struggle to be honest about my struggle.
Most days, I'd rather keep that internal wrestling match a secret. It's better if I come out looking good at the end of the day. But the honest truth is that every good thing that I do, say, think - even the way that I choose to forgive and love people - I have learned from my experience of a God who has loved me with every flaw, not despite them. My friend Karissa recently said that God doesn't just love us and overlook our flaws, but says to us, "I'm so in love with you that I don't even see them. I didn't even notice because I was too distracted by how in love with you I am."
One day, I hope we all love one another with that kind of love.
This verse is over-quoted for a reason. It says it so perfectly.
1 Corinthians 13: 4-8
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
Transition into Teach For America
I haven't updated this blog in over a year. I've had the best of intentions, but every time it comes to mind I push away the thought. Recently, I've been reflecting more on my Peace Corps service. I went back to my blog today and read my last post. I had forgotten what a devastated state I was in when I wrote that last post. I had worked so hard on my final projects and the community's next to last response left me broken. Then two weeks later, I returned to Corral de Arena for a final goodbye along with my mom and sister. The entire community came out for the party and it was healing to see so many people that I loved.
A year and three months later, I look back on the experience quite differently. I think less about all of the times I cried, wanted to curl up and just have someone carry me home. What I remember is my last days in site with my entire community showing up to say goodbye, eating cabrito con menestra (goat and beans with rice) and dancing always with one of my students running to hold my hand. I remember my host mom crying as she hugged me and asking me for forgiveness for the two years of judgement and biting words. All of the hardship and painful moments along with the euphoric experiences have over time molded together into this precious, invaluable part of me that I hold close to my heart.
This year, I joined Teach for America - a non-profit in the United States that sends Corps members to work in low-income communities for two years. I live and work on the border of two small towns, Avondale and Goodyear, southwest of Phoenix, Arizona. After Peace Corps, this has been a luxurious living arrangement. I have a toilet, running water, INTERNET!! The transition as a whole hasn't been perfect. Peace Corps was much more laid back. In Peace Corps, I made my own schedule and decided exactly how I would spend my time. With teaching, I don't have as much freedom with the content that I teach, whereas in Peace Corps I taught community leadership skills, sexual education, self-esteem, debate, the history of hip hop, and environmental education. Although, I have to admit, being a high school math teacher is a whole lot more fun than I would have expected. We play lots of games on small dry-erase boards. The classroom is much different for these students than it was for us - for better or worse. "You're supposed to entertain us!" was once shouted at me. "I'm not a comedian. I'm a math teacher."
After 8 months of living here, the roots are beginning to take hold and new fruit is beginning to emerge. The learning curve is very steep - how to make rules and get people to actually follow them, getting students excited to work (or at least work anyway), grading, tutoring, learning how to do math so that I can teach it. Here are a few things that I have learned:
1. I am quick to beat myself up, listing all of the "you should have's" and "what if's..." and compare myself to others.
2. I can love students with all of my heart and soul, but that does not guarantee they will love themselves or care about my class.
3. There are 10th graders who do not know 2 times 3 by memory. They count this on their fingers.
4. Some students would subsist on learning new things if their bodies could function that way. Others, would rather drop out and be a street sweeper. #grandmasterflash
5. Teenagers look like adults, act like children and are more complicated than any of the math concepts we'll cover in class.
6. If someone looks at their crotch and laughs, they're texting.
7. More kids will come to tutoring if you're willing to dance and give them candy.
8. Pencils will not be returned.
9. Bring a healthy lunch or buy bigger pants.
10. More students come from broken homes and go without food than I anticipated. Most students will not open up about these problems to many people.
11. Paraprofessionals are da-bomb.com. (These are class helpers who are experts at working with students with learning disabilities.)
12. Being silly is a necessary ingredient to a good day. Funny glasses. Catch phrases (Oh, Snap!). Singing. Robot voice. Faces. Shouting.
13. Coffee, coffee, coffee. Detox. A little more coffee.
14. Bring what you care about with you to the classroom. Be yourself.
15. Don't just teach your subject. Teach them what it means to be a human being whose heart breaks for those who suffer around the world and ache for an end world hunger, poverty and injustice.
A year and three months later, I look back on the experience quite differently. I think less about all of the times I cried, wanted to curl up and just have someone carry me home. What I remember is my last days in site with my entire community showing up to say goodbye, eating cabrito con menestra (goat and beans with rice) and dancing always with one of my students running to hold my hand. I remember my host mom crying as she hugged me and asking me for forgiveness for the two years of judgement and biting words. All of the hardship and painful moments along with the euphoric experiences have over time molded together into this precious, invaluable part of me that I hold close to my heart.
This year, I joined Teach for America - a non-profit in the United States that sends Corps members to work in low-income communities for two years. I live and work on the border of two small towns, Avondale and Goodyear, southwest of Phoenix, Arizona. After Peace Corps, this has been a luxurious living arrangement. I have a toilet, running water, INTERNET!! The transition as a whole hasn't been perfect. Peace Corps was much more laid back. In Peace Corps, I made my own schedule and decided exactly how I would spend my time. With teaching, I don't have as much freedom with the content that I teach, whereas in Peace Corps I taught community leadership skills, sexual education, self-esteem, debate, the history of hip hop, and environmental education. Although, I have to admit, being a high school math teacher is a whole lot more fun than I would have expected. We play lots of games on small dry-erase boards. The classroom is much different for these students than it was for us - for better or worse. "You're supposed to entertain us!" was once shouted at me. "I'm not a comedian. I'm a math teacher."
After 8 months of living here, the roots are beginning to take hold and new fruit is beginning to emerge. The learning curve is very steep - how to make rules and get people to actually follow them, getting students excited to work (or at least work anyway), grading, tutoring, learning how to do math so that I can teach it. Here are a few things that I have learned:
1. I am quick to beat myself up, listing all of the "you should have's" and "what if's..." and compare myself to others.
2. I can love students with all of my heart and soul, but that does not guarantee they will love themselves or care about my class.
3. There are 10th graders who do not know 2 times 3 by memory. They count this on their fingers.
4. Some students would subsist on learning new things if their bodies could function that way. Others, would rather drop out and be a street sweeper. #grandmasterflash
5. Teenagers look like adults, act like children and are more complicated than any of the math concepts we'll cover in class.
6. If someone looks at their crotch and laughs, they're texting.
7. More kids will come to tutoring if you're willing to dance and give them candy.
8. Pencils will not be returned.
9. Bring a healthy lunch or buy bigger pants.
10. More students come from broken homes and go without food than I anticipated. Most students will not open up about these problems to many people.
11. Paraprofessionals are da-bomb.com. (These are class helpers who are experts at working with students with learning disabilities.)
12. Being silly is a necessary ingredient to a good day. Funny glasses. Catch phrases (Oh, Snap!). Singing. Robot voice. Faces. Shouting.
13. Coffee, coffee, coffee. Detox. A little more coffee.
14. Bring what you care about with you to the classroom. Be yourself.
15. Don't just teach your subject. Teach them what it means to be a human being whose heart breaks for those who suffer around the world and ache for an end world hunger, poverty and injustice.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Cement floors
I was scrolling through my old blogs posts from back in the day on MySpace. (Remember MySpace?) I was looking for a poem that I thought I wrote. It turns out it wasn't a poem, but I ended up reading through my old entries. Several things surprised me. One, I didn't realize what a sappy-feelings-hippy-chick I was even back then. Actual old blog quote from June 23, 2008: "...life is still moving me like a piece on a checker board. I don't feel like I've spent enough time rolling in the grass. I just feel like wearing my tie-dye shirt everyday and throwing love around. The hippie in me wants to get lost in the joy of irresponsibility and living in the moment....I hope all of you are enjoying being alive today. There's something so beautiful about children, because they know how powerful the small things can be. Take sometime today to truly enjoy the hot summer breeze as you stretch out your arms, cute little kids in silly hats, listening to your music too loudly. So tap into those energies that, too often, go unnoticed."
The main surprise was the similarities of what old me was struggling with and the present-day me. The younger...less chubby version still stressed about how to put God's love into action, wondering what I'd be when I grew up. Same heartbreak, different girl...several actually. They could write a show called "How I Met Your Other Mother" from my dating history. (Now shake your head in disapproval.)
We all have this cyclical nature within us - mostly a good thing. There's a saying: wherever you go, there you are. You can try to run or deny what you've been designed to care about, you can beat yourself up for your personal struggles, but even those character defects are intimately attached to what makes you beautiful. Now, I'm not saying that to make myself feel better. I want you to really think about yourself for a minute. What is it that you see yourself constantly coming back to? What do you care most about? What is at your core?
And what struggles do you see coming back around time and time again? Those can be helpful to look at, because I bet you'll find that time and time again they worked out. For me, I call these my "cement floor" moments. For the first few months in the Peace Corps, I gave myself entirely too much anxiety over a cement floor. I didn't know whether I should put the cement floor into my dirt floored room at my house, because it could've made my room much hotter than necessary. Then again, I was worried that bugs and animals would dig their way into my room and attack me in the night. Hi-yah! And if I DID decide on putting in a floor, how in the heck would I pay for it?! Who would put it in?! How do you even mix cement anyway?! And you know what, I look back on my journal entries in my PC diary and think, "what a silly problem! It all worked out just fine. I can't believe I was so stressed about that." I got my cement floor...a green cement floor, because I didn't know what I was asking for in Spanish, but a cement floor at least! What are your cement floors?
I read a quote from Mother Teresa this week that said, "it is impossible to walk rapidly and be unhappy". My advice for those cement floor moments is to put all your force, all your heart into responding to the needs of those you have identified of others, to work through what you can and to pray, pray, pray. And don't forget to sit yourself down at a park and love on your God. Get back to your core!
Here are a few songs from that time when I was writing those earlier sappy blogs. Listen to them and send your loving energy out:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovoXEGxvLCU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNA9wlcroas
...And for those of you who who may be interested in the old stuff:
http://www.myspace.com/terraceh/blog
The main surprise was the similarities of what old me was struggling with and the present-day me. The younger...less chubby version still stressed about how to put God's love into action, wondering what I'd be when I grew up. Same heartbreak, different girl...several actually. They could write a show called "How I Met Your Other Mother" from my dating history. (Now shake your head in disapproval.)
We all have this cyclical nature within us - mostly a good thing. There's a saying: wherever you go, there you are. You can try to run or deny what you've been designed to care about, you can beat yourself up for your personal struggles, but even those character defects are intimately attached to what makes you beautiful. Now, I'm not saying that to make myself feel better. I want you to really think about yourself for a minute. What is it that you see yourself constantly coming back to? What do you care most about? What is at your core?
And what struggles do you see coming back around time and time again? Those can be helpful to look at, because I bet you'll find that time and time again they worked out. For me, I call these my "cement floor" moments. For the first few months in the Peace Corps, I gave myself entirely too much anxiety over a cement floor. I didn't know whether I should put the cement floor into my dirt floored room at my house, because it could've made my room much hotter than necessary. Then again, I was worried that bugs and animals would dig their way into my room and attack me in the night. Hi-yah! And if I DID decide on putting in a floor, how in the heck would I pay for it?! Who would put it in?! How do you even mix cement anyway?! And you know what, I look back on my journal entries in my PC diary and think, "what a silly problem! It all worked out just fine. I can't believe I was so stressed about that." I got my cement floor...a green cement floor, because I didn't know what I was asking for in Spanish, but a cement floor at least! What are your cement floors?
I read a quote from Mother Teresa this week that said, "it is impossible to walk rapidly and be unhappy". My advice for those cement floor moments is to put all your force, all your heart into responding to the needs of those you have identified of others, to work through what you can and to pray, pray, pray. And don't forget to sit yourself down at a park and love on your God. Get back to your core!
Here are a few songs from that time when I was writing those earlier sappy blogs. Listen to them and send your loving energy out:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovoXEGxvLCU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNA9wlcroas
...And for those of you who who may be interested in the old stuff:
http://www.myspace.com/terraceh/blog
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Living God
We have all heard the story of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus so many times that I feel as though it would be cliche for me to begin by recounting the reality of the sacrifice, or the unbelievable joy in a man who was once dead, now alive. We have become numb to the details of his dearest friends leaving him behind as they hid in fear when he was arrested, or the gruesome torture the day leading up to the hours he spent in excruciating pain on the cross. And this man who must have felt so small, so helpless, so heartbroken because he had given all he had of himself - had loved humanity with every cubic inch of his being. All he could do was hang his head and say, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do".
Moving forward to present-day, many of us devote our lives to the cause of following in the footsteps of this Jesus. Most of us do not actually follow him to our own deaths - the idea being that this sacrifice was made one time for the salvation of us all. God in the form of Jesus made that sacrifice of bearing all of the mistakes and "fuck-ups" of humanity all at once. But even though we do not have to offer ourselves to a physical death, many of us are trying to figure out just how to live like Jesus lived. In my journey, I've been convinced that I am supposed to go into "Teach For America" as part of my next step. The doors for me to go into that organization have been opening up widely over the last 8 months. I'm scheduled to begin training to be a high school math teacher in a low-income school in Phoenix this May. However, I failed the entrance exam. I studied for 2 solid months for the exam and failed it. I'm supposed to take the exam again on Tuesday after another month of independent study and meeting up with a professor from Texas Tech University who helps me for free.
I've come to the realization that I cannot study hard enough. I cannot learn all that I am supposed to for this exam. I have near anxiety-attacks everyday thinking about it. I don't know if I've written that much about this in my blog, but it has been a tough year and a half for me. I've always struggled with depression, but it hit me hard in 2012. Then I went through a break-up and just fell apart. I came back to the U.S. and started exercising regularly, traveled around visiting old friends, got a full-time job as a substitute teacher and began studying really hard for my entrance exam. Failing the exam really did a number on the self-confidence that I had been trying to regain. I had never studied so hard in my life, and that is when I failed. I have been pushing myself to do all of the right things, and still failing to do them right enough, still feeling guilty at the end of the day that I could have done more. Have you been there? Have you ever had one of those devastating realizations that Paul talks about - wanting to do good, and then struggling through the pieces of yourself that you hate? Or have your given your best shot and it just didn't work out the way you planned?
I think failure has been a lesson that I needed to learn. In studying this past month, I just kept thinking about how studying and failing this exam is like trying to live by the laws of the Old Testament. (And I know there are mathematicians in the world who would ace this test, but for me this test is incredibly challenging.) I will not know as much as I should by the time I take this test again on Tuesday. The reality that I may fail this exam has been weighing heavily on me, because it means that I may not get to go to Phoenix.
The gospel choir from MCC Houston came to sing at our church (Lubbock MCC) today. During the entire service, it seemed like every song and the sermon from the guest pastor had been written for me. I sat in the pew and cried as soon as the choir began singing their first song...and then through the next four songs, and again when Pastor Vicky talked about how God has already set the plans of our lives in motion and that they will not be changed. I wanted to believe her. I ached for that to be true. Pastor Vicky kept repeating the promise and saying, "You do not serve a God who is dead, but a Living God!". A Living God - a God who did not make plans without to foresight to consider whether or not I would fail along the way, a God who would not give up as easily as I have on myself, a God who knew and had set my future into motion long ago. This is the God that we have - one that has not haphazardly created beings, but a God who knitted and stitched us together, and will use even our biggest mistakes to create goodness in the end. A God who can even work with humanity's greatest of sins - genocide, atomic bombs, torture, greed - and use them as a mirror to transform our hearts and help us to desire more love, and to work even harder to care for every living being.
This is ultimately the story of the resurrection and the crucifixion: that which is the most wretched, the most gruesome and cruel - our innocent God hanging from a bloody cross when God came to Earth to show us how to love one another. The grandest of all injustices was God on that cross, but it becomes the most beautiful symbol of God's love for us and the promise of life that we are given. We humans may continue to test one another, and hold each other to near impossible standards, but God does not. Paraphrasing Brennan Manning, Jesus accepts you just as you are right now - loves you just as you are. Do you really believe that you are fine and good just as you are today? You do not have to change. You do not have to be better. The price has been paid for any mistake you have made and will make. And you will make more mistakes!
You are loved. You are freed. You can celebrate now. You serve a Living God.
Moving forward to present-day, many of us devote our lives to the cause of following in the footsteps of this Jesus. Most of us do not actually follow him to our own deaths - the idea being that this sacrifice was made one time for the salvation of us all. God in the form of Jesus made that sacrifice of bearing all of the mistakes and "fuck-ups" of humanity all at once. But even though we do not have to offer ourselves to a physical death, many of us are trying to figure out just how to live like Jesus lived. In my journey, I've been convinced that I am supposed to go into "Teach For America" as part of my next step. The doors for me to go into that organization have been opening up widely over the last 8 months. I'm scheduled to begin training to be a high school math teacher in a low-income school in Phoenix this May. However, I failed the entrance exam. I studied for 2 solid months for the exam and failed it. I'm supposed to take the exam again on Tuesday after another month of independent study and meeting up with a professor from Texas Tech University who helps me for free.
I've come to the realization that I cannot study hard enough. I cannot learn all that I am supposed to for this exam. I have near anxiety-attacks everyday thinking about it. I don't know if I've written that much about this in my blog, but it has been a tough year and a half for me. I've always struggled with depression, but it hit me hard in 2012. Then I went through a break-up and just fell apart. I came back to the U.S. and started exercising regularly, traveled around visiting old friends, got a full-time job as a substitute teacher and began studying really hard for my entrance exam. Failing the exam really did a number on the self-confidence that I had been trying to regain. I had never studied so hard in my life, and that is when I failed. I have been pushing myself to do all of the right things, and still failing to do them right enough, still feeling guilty at the end of the day that I could have done more. Have you been there? Have you ever had one of those devastating realizations that Paul talks about - wanting to do good, and then struggling through the pieces of yourself that you hate? Or have your given your best shot and it just didn't work out the way you planned?
I think failure has been a lesson that I needed to learn. In studying this past month, I just kept thinking about how studying and failing this exam is like trying to live by the laws of the Old Testament. (And I know there are mathematicians in the world who would ace this test, but for me this test is incredibly challenging.) I will not know as much as I should by the time I take this test again on Tuesday. The reality that I may fail this exam has been weighing heavily on me, because it means that I may not get to go to Phoenix.
The gospel choir from MCC Houston came to sing at our church (Lubbock MCC) today. During the entire service, it seemed like every song and the sermon from the guest pastor had been written for me. I sat in the pew and cried as soon as the choir began singing their first song...and then through the next four songs, and again when Pastor Vicky talked about how God has already set the plans of our lives in motion and that they will not be changed. I wanted to believe her. I ached for that to be true. Pastor Vicky kept repeating the promise and saying, "You do not serve a God who is dead, but a Living God!". A Living God - a God who did not make plans without to foresight to consider whether or not I would fail along the way, a God who would not give up as easily as I have on myself, a God who knew and had set my future into motion long ago. This is the God that we have - one that has not haphazardly created beings, but a God who knitted and stitched us together, and will use even our biggest mistakes to create goodness in the end. A God who can even work with humanity's greatest of sins - genocide, atomic bombs, torture, greed - and use them as a mirror to transform our hearts and help us to desire more love, and to work even harder to care for every living being.
This is ultimately the story of the resurrection and the crucifixion: that which is the most wretched, the most gruesome and cruel - our innocent God hanging from a bloody cross when God came to Earth to show us how to love one another. The grandest of all injustices was God on that cross, but it becomes the most beautiful symbol of God's love for us and the promise of life that we are given. We humans may continue to test one another, and hold each other to near impossible standards, but God does not. Paraphrasing Brennan Manning, Jesus accepts you just as you are right now - loves you just as you are. Do you really believe that you are fine and good just as you are today? You do not have to change. You do not have to be better. The price has been paid for any mistake you have made and will make. And you will make more mistakes!
You are loved. You are freed. You can celebrate now. You serve a Living God.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Status Update
After two years in the Peace Corps, I've officially finished. What a journey it has been! I cannot account for all the ways that I've been changed by this experience, but I'll be damned if I'm not gonna try...
Flew September 17, 2010 from D.C. to Lima, Peru.
Landed exhausted and anxiously met people while we waited to leave the airport at 12AM.
Slept/woke up screaming the whole way to our hotel in a crazy combi ride.
Spent 3 months in training, learning Spanish and drinking beer in Santa Eulalia with a group of guys and one super tall, wild gal that I offended by calling "a mix between a super model and a neandertal". (I meant it as a complement, really. I mean, she's really freaking tall, especially in Peru. And then she looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine.)
Loved my host family in training and my fellow trainees.
Went to Marcahuasi which is gorgeous and super cold. High altitude mountains that look like animals (the tortuga) and Jesus. Spooned Dr. Leavitt to keep warm in our tent. Intense dream: shouted the country director's name in my sleep and woke everyone up.
Visited my site for the first time and had an amazing camp-out in the Bosque de Pomac. Didn't shower for four days while working in the hot desert. Pooped in the reserve behind a boulder and then tried to hide it by stacking rocks on top of it. ...Quickly bragged about it to everyone else on the camping trip.
Got freaking sick from eating "Pollo a la Brasa" and ruined the dish forever, which is for the best considering the deforestation caused by the charcoal industry to cook this one popular food.
Went back to my training site and realized all my clothes smell like chicken poo and probably would for the next two years.
Swore-in as a PCV in Nov 2010 and cried when I had to leave them.
Went to my site and quickly forgot that I smelled like chicken poo.
Immediately took to my 5 year old host brother, Anderson. We communicated mostly through weird stares with big eyes and random exclamations. "Oye!" Edwin my older host bro was the youngest mayor I've ever heard of - elected at age 18 and in office til he was 26 (28 when I moved in). Grandma went everywhere with her walker - still working in the fields, collecting firewood, corralling the animals, howling. Marleni, my host mom, never really liked me. She made my 2 years harder than they needed to be. My host dad came into town every once in a while, but worked in another department. He was super interested in my work, young, muscular, and thoughtful. He took to making landfills with me for our trash! My aunt Rosa and uncle Cesar were also very special. Rosa always invited me to food, and Cesar was the only one who whole-heartedly appreciated my damn-good American indie tunes.
Went door-to-door for 3 months creating my community diagnostic and doing surveys. Reported that the community needed a health post and the mayor actually did something about it!
Got sick at least once a month my first year (took cipro, which is a super strong antibiotic, 13 times in my first 12 months)!
Talked awkwardly on our Peace Corps radio shows in Olmos "The Ecological Hour" and "Cafe con las Chicas" for the first few months and then grew into my personality in Spanish. Now, I could talk the whole hour.
Got drunk on pisco, jumped up on stage at a cumbia concert (Corazon Serrano). Played invisible instruments with every band member, and then tried to rip the shirt off the lead singer's body, all the while saying in English "it's okay, let me do it". I wasn't ripping the shirt off to be sexual...I had been looking for a shirt like his short-sleeve, plaid button-up for months! The video played all over Olmos for months, and a Baptist church I wanted to do environmental projects with told me I could not teach their children.
Celebrated the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps at the U.S. Ambassadors house in Lima! Told a ex-president and presidential candidate that if he was elected we needed small landfills in Olmos. He looked at me like, "really? did you really just say that?"
Ran along the beach after getting rejeted by someone I liked and got startled by God's message in my prayer, "you underestimate me" each time to waves beat against the rocks.
Went to Chachapoyas (Kuelap and more) with Jackie, Brit and Sara. Sara left with the name "ball-busting Sara" because of her intense reactions to our guides lack of communication about the intensity of our hikes. "It's not that far, alli no mas". Met God at the waterfall Gocta - so holy, I took my shoes off...then got my feet all cut-up on the sharp rocks. Brit rocked my world with her amazing snacks! Jackie blew us all away on the trails - going through her break-up and taking all that energy out on the hike.
Put on camps throughout the 2 years with PCVs. Camp ALMA, VALOR, and with ICPNA for youth leaders.
Created my program Iron Man/Iron Woman - a youth development program - with my friend Carolyn. We taught those kids what it takes to go to college, how-to use a condom, how-to start a small business, what it means to be a real community leader, and more. Holocaust. Hip Hop and African American History. Debates on separation of church and state and pacifism. Diaries. 5K race in Olmos! Beach day in Pimentel for the kids who finished 80% of the program.
Learned the ins and outs of grant writing.
Fell in love and accidentally said it after the person nerded-out over their excitement to read their science book.
Participated in many events during the Festival de Limon including an attempt for a Guiness Book of World Record's title: eating the largest plate of cabrito (goat) in history - 500 goats, 15,000 people.
Trained for a marathon. Ran 10 miles around the city of Chiclayo the day the police were parading, 12 miles in the hills of Sincape, and then 15 miles in the Bosque de Pomac with Carol and Dani as horses ran wild and we kicked up sand. Hurt myself and cried as I walked back for an hour and a half from my attempt at the 16 mile run solo. Refused a ride from a creepy cop on a motorcycle (volunteers aren't allowed on motorcycles or alone with creepy peeps.)
Ran a 10K in Pacasmayo. Met Carol and Dani at the finishline when they finished their marathons. Carol cried as she ran into our arms. "I really thought I was gonna die."
Bulla, Carol, Sara and Lisa planned a surprise party for me for my 25th birthday. Even though I had hurt my leg, I was probably in the best shape of my life that year.
Ate all-you-can-eat sushi with Rob, Tina, Speare, Sara Leavitt at Magma in Lima. Sooooo full! Saw the world famous female boxer Kina Malpartida in a jugeria with Monica.
In August 2011, I went to Ancash with all the environment volunteers from Peru 16. We were at the base of Huascaran - the tallest mountain in Peru - with it's snowy peak. We dipped our feet in the cold glacier lake...some of the boys ripped off their clothes and jumped in naked in front of about 40 people including out Peruvian counter-parts.
Love PERU 16!!!!
Dressed up as Peter Pan for Halloween with Bulla as tinkerbell (which ended up looking more like a stripper costume).
Had Thanksgiving with Carol's family in Sincape (Peruvians don't usually celebrate Thanksgiving). We cooked our favorite dishes and ate like... Americans!
Headed back to the States for the first time since I had left that Christmas (2011). Got all teary-eyed at the "Welcome to the United States" video they put on in the plane as we touched down. Shouted to everyone in the lines at customs in Miami, "there are water fountains! and you can drink straight from them and not get sick!". Got a "Fat Tire" beer the second the plane landed in the DFW Airport - only seven dollars at the TGI Fridays! I've never said so many "thank you's" to a waitress before. Was in a sleepy-state on my last plane ride from DFW to LBB and woke up trying to order a drink in Spanish at the Asian American flight attendant. "Este jugito...eso...eso!" Gained 10 pounds in the 2 weeks I was home.
Went back to Peru and was really sad for a few months. It was tougher going back than I had imagined.
Projects started rolling - the project for trash and trees that I would do for the next 8 months only for it to fail. 116 families invited, only 8 participated.
Me and Carol wrote a manual for our Iron Man Program that is now being replicated by volunteers all over Peru including Laura in Yauyos, and Willa and Allison in Ancash. The 24 Lambayeque volunteers helped to put on camps all throughout the 2 years, and we did an Iron Man version in June 2012.
Started my "Escuela de Padres" for parents to learn more about how to be better parents and help their kids succeed academically, nutrition, self-esteem,passing on values, etc.
Reported the principal of my school and my community partner to the police for forcing my 13 year old high school girls to kiss him.
Did a lot of events again for the Festival de Limon. Annie was the Reyna del Medio Ambiente, Sara the Reyna de Reciclaje. I sang our environmental parody songs on huge speakers for the whole town to hear. About 10 thousand people were there to cheer us on.
Heard the words, "I'm just not ready to commit". Cried a lot.
Danced to "Lejos de Ti" at the Amaya Hermanos concert in Picsi and was remembered months later by a band member when I introduced myself. "Yeah, I remember you making about 20 attempts at the jumping photo in front of the stage."
My last project was the "Ama Tu Peru" video series you can find on Youtube - thanks Olmos volunteers and participants! Approximately 20,000 people will see these videos on their televisions in Olmos over the next 16 months! They air during prime-time hours - "Al Fondo Hay Sitio" and "Esto Es Guerra".
One of my teachers beat one of my students and then all of the other teachers went to his birthday party the next week and cancelled school. Frustrating!
My alumnos (students) sang to me (Lejos de Ti) - "far from you, I'm going to die" - on my last day of work and wanted me to write in their journals. Sweet song.
Made a "Gangnam Style" music video for our going away party with all the Lambayeque volunteers. Phil got a breakdance crew to dance for us, because he knew I loved them.
Taught the new group of environment kids (Peru 20) in Lima as the volunteer of the week my last week as a PCV. Cried in front of them. Made them dance the sea-walk for my Hip Hop class. Gave an appropriately cynical view of my service and experience. Group hugged them as I left.
Went to Carolyn's Halloween party dressed as pollo (chicken) and Annie went as arroz (rice). Together we were the popular Peruvian dish "Arroz con Pollo". Lots of cool costumes were their like the 3 little piglets, cookie and the cookie monster, Twitter, and then there was Hurricane Sandy - tooooooo sooooon!
Found out one of my students ran away with a 20 year old, and she was a key witness in the case against my director. Now the town thinks she's a whore and the director might come back. He's been sending threatening messages to the teacher who helped me turn him in. She's scared and I don't know how to help her.
Couch surfing at Carol's house until my mom and sister get here tomorrow at 4am.
We're headed to Machu Picchu and then back to Lambayeque for a going away party with my community. Rest assured that there will be lots of crying during the goodbye's and toasts. My students are planning to sing our environmental parody songs we created for our radio show.
Then me, my mom and sister will head back to the States along with Bulla's cat...who will be going from the hot desert of Peru to ALASKA! Poor cat!
I've got an interview with Teach For America in December and a trip to Vegas the following day for a college roommate reunion! Buying a fancy sweater-vest in Cusco for the occasion.
We'll see what happens next...
Flew September 17, 2010 from D.C. to Lima, Peru.
Landed exhausted and anxiously met people while we waited to leave the airport at 12AM.
Slept/woke up screaming the whole way to our hotel in a crazy combi ride.
Spent 3 months in training, learning Spanish and drinking beer in Santa Eulalia with a group of guys and one super tall, wild gal that I offended by calling "a mix between a super model and a neandertal". (I meant it as a complement, really. I mean, she's really freaking tall, especially in Peru. And then she looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine.)
Loved my host family in training and my fellow trainees.
Went to Marcahuasi which is gorgeous and super cold. High altitude mountains that look like animals (the tortuga) and Jesus. Spooned Dr. Leavitt to keep warm in our tent. Intense dream: shouted the country director's name in my sleep and woke everyone up.
Visited my site for the first time and had an amazing camp-out in the Bosque de Pomac. Didn't shower for four days while working in the hot desert. Pooped in the reserve behind a boulder and then tried to hide it by stacking rocks on top of it. ...Quickly bragged about it to everyone else on the camping trip.
Got freaking sick from eating "Pollo a la Brasa" and ruined the dish forever, which is for the best considering the deforestation caused by the charcoal industry to cook this one popular food.
Went back to my training site and realized all my clothes smell like chicken poo and probably would for the next two years.
Swore-in as a PCV in Nov 2010 and cried when I had to leave them.
Went to my site and quickly forgot that I smelled like chicken poo.
Immediately took to my 5 year old host brother, Anderson. We communicated mostly through weird stares with big eyes and random exclamations. "Oye!" Edwin my older host bro was the youngest mayor I've ever heard of - elected at age 18 and in office til he was 26 (28 when I moved in). Grandma went everywhere with her walker - still working in the fields, collecting firewood, corralling the animals, howling. Marleni, my host mom, never really liked me. She made my 2 years harder than they needed to be. My host dad came into town every once in a while, but worked in another department. He was super interested in my work, young, muscular, and thoughtful. He took to making landfills with me for our trash! My aunt Rosa and uncle Cesar were also very special. Rosa always invited me to food, and Cesar was the only one who whole-heartedly appreciated my damn-good American indie tunes.
Went door-to-door for 3 months creating my community diagnostic and doing surveys. Reported that the community needed a health post and the mayor actually did something about it!
Got sick at least once a month my first year (took cipro, which is a super strong antibiotic, 13 times in my first 12 months)!
Talked awkwardly on our Peace Corps radio shows in Olmos "The Ecological Hour" and "Cafe con las Chicas" for the first few months and then grew into my personality in Spanish. Now, I could talk the whole hour.
Got drunk on pisco, jumped up on stage at a cumbia concert (Corazon Serrano). Played invisible instruments with every band member, and then tried to rip the shirt off the lead singer's body, all the while saying in English "it's okay, let me do it". I wasn't ripping the shirt off to be sexual...I had been looking for a shirt like his short-sleeve, plaid button-up for months! The video played all over Olmos for months, and a Baptist church I wanted to do environmental projects with told me I could not teach their children.
Celebrated the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps at the U.S. Ambassadors house in Lima! Told a ex-president and presidential candidate that if he was elected we needed small landfills in Olmos. He looked at me like, "really? did you really just say that?"
Ran along the beach after getting rejeted by someone I liked and got startled by God's message in my prayer, "you underestimate me" each time to waves beat against the rocks.
Went to Chachapoyas (Kuelap and more) with Jackie, Brit and Sara. Sara left with the name "ball-busting Sara" because of her intense reactions to our guides lack of communication about the intensity of our hikes. "It's not that far, alli no mas". Met God at the waterfall Gocta - so holy, I took my shoes off...then got my feet all cut-up on the sharp rocks. Brit rocked my world with her amazing snacks! Jackie blew us all away on the trails - going through her break-up and taking all that energy out on the hike.
Put on camps throughout the 2 years with PCVs. Camp ALMA, VALOR, and with ICPNA for youth leaders.
Created my program Iron Man/Iron Woman - a youth development program - with my friend Carolyn. We taught those kids what it takes to go to college, how-to use a condom, how-to start a small business, what it means to be a real community leader, and more. Holocaust. Hip Hop and African American History. Debates on separation of church and state and pacifism. Diaries. 5K race in Olmos! Beach day in Pimentel for the kids who finished 80% of the program.
Learned the ins and outs of grant writing.
Fell in love and accidentally said it after the person nerded-out over their excitement to read their science book.
Participated in many events during the Festival de Limon including an attempt for a Guiness Book of World Record's title: eating the largest plate of cabrito (goat) in history - 500 goats, 15,000 people.
Trained for a marathon. Ran 10 miles around the city of Chiclayo the day the police were parading, 12 miles in the hills of Sincape, and then 15 miles in the Bosque de Pomac with Carol and Dani as horses ran wild and we kicked up sand. Hurt myself and cried as I walked back for an hour and a half from my attempt at the 16 mile run solo. Refused a ride from a creepy cop on a motorcycle (volunteers aren't allowed on motorcycles or alone with creepy peeps.)
Ran a 10K in Pacasmayo. Met Carol and Dani at the finishline when they finished their marathons. Carol cried as she ran into our arms. "I really thought I was gonna die."
Bulla, Carol, Sara and Lisa planned a surprise party for me for my 25th birthday. Even though I had hurt my leg, I was probably in the best shape of my life that year.
Ate all-you-can-eat sushi with Rob, Tina, Speare, Sara Leavitt at Magma in Lima. Sooooo full! Saw the world famous female boxer Kina Malpartida in a jugeria with Monica.
In August 2011, I went to Ancash with all the environment volunteers from Peru 16. We were at the base of Huascaran - the tallest mountain in Peru - with it's snowy peak. We dipped our feet in the cold glacier lake...some of the boys ripped off their clothes and jumped in naked in front of about 40 people including out Peruvian counter-parts.
Love PERU 16!!!!
Dressed up as Peter Pan for Halloween with Bulla as tinkerbell (which ended up looking more like a stripper costume).
Had Thanksgiving with Carol's family in Sincape (Peruvians don't usually celebrate Thanksgiving). We cooked our favorite dishes and ate like... Americans!
Headed back to the States for the first time since I had left that Christmas (2011). Got all teary-eyed at the "Welcome to the United States" video they put on in the plane as we touched down. Shouted to everyone in the lines at customs in Miami, "there are water fountains! and you can drink straight from them and not get sick!". Got a "Fat Tire" beer the second the plane landed in the DFW Airport - only seven dollars at the TGI Fridays! I've never said so many "thank you's" to a waitress before. Was in a sleepy-state on my last plane ride from DFW to LBB and woke up trying to order a drink in Spanish at the Asian American flight attendant. "Este jugito...eso...eso!" Gained 10 pounds in the 2 weeks I was home.
Went back to Peru and was really sad for a few months. It was tougher going back than I had imagined.
Projects started rolling - the project for trash and trees that I would do for the next 8 months only for it to fail. 116 families invited, only 8 participated.
Me and Carol wrote a manual for our Iron Man Program that is now being replicated by volunteers all over Peru including Laura in Yauyos, and Willa and Allison in Ancash. The 24 Lambayeque volunteers helped to put on camps all throughout the 2 years, and we did an Iron Man version in June 2012.
Started my "Escuela de Padres" for parents to learn more about how to be better parents and help their kids succeed academically, nutrition, self-esteem,passing on values, etc.
Reported the principal of my school and my community partner to the police for forcing my 13 year old high school girls to kiss him.
Did a lot of events again for the Festival de Limon. Annie was the Reyna del Medio Ambiente, Sara the Reyna de Reciclaje. I sang our environmental parody songs on huge speakers for the whole town to hear. About 10 thousand people were there to cheer us on.
Heard the words, "I'm just not ready to commit". Cried a lot.
Danced to "Lejos de Ti" at the Amaya Hermanos concert in Picsi and was remembered months later by a band member when I introduced myself. "Yeah, I remember you making about 20 attempts at the jumping photo in front of the stage."
My last project was the "Ama Tu Peru" video series you can find on Youtube - thanks Olmos volunteers and participants! Approximately 20,000 people will see these videos on their televisions in Olmos over the next 16 months! They air during prime-time hours - "Al Fondo Hay Sitio" and "Esto Es Guerra".
One of my teachers beat one of my students and then all of the other teachers went to his birthday party the next week and cancelled school. Frustrating!
My alumnos (students) sang to me (Lejos de Ti) - "far from you, I'm going to die" - on my last day of work and wanted me to write in their journals. Sweet song.
Made a "Gangnam Style" music video for our going away party with all the Lambayeque volunteers. Phil got a breakdance crew to dance for us, because he knew I loved them.
Taught the new group of environment kids (Peru 20) in Lima as the volunteer of the week my last week as a PCV. Cried in front of them. Made them dance the sea-walk for my Hip Hop class. Gave an appropriately cynical view of my service and experience. Group hugged them as I left.
Went to Carolyn's Halloween party dressed as pollo (chicken) and Annie went as arroz (rice). Together we were the popular Peruvian dish "Arroz con Pollo". Lots of cool costumes were their like the 3 little piglets, cookie and the cookie monster, Twitter, and then there was Hurricane Sandy - tooooooo sooooon!
Found out one of my students ran away with a 20 year old, and she was a key witness in the case against my director. Now the town thinks she's a whore and the director might come back. He's been sending threatening messages to the teacher who helped me turn him in. She's scared and I don't know how to help her.
Couch surfing at Carol's house until my mom and sister get here tomorrow at 4am.
We're headed to Machu Picchu and then back to Lambayeque for a going away party with my community. Rest assured that there will be lots of crying during the goodbye's and toasts. My students are planning to sing our environmental parody songs we created for our radio show.
Then me, my mom and sister will head back to the States along with Bulla's cat...who will be going from the hot desert of Peru to ALASKA! Poor cat!
I've got an interview with Teach For America in December and a trip to Vegas the following day for a college roommate reunion! Buying a fancy sweater-vest in Cusco for the occasion.
We'll see what happens next...
Thursday, October 11, 2012
The Peace Corps poster you'll never see.
"Life is calling...how far will you go" the saying for Peace Corps calls. Since 1961, young and old people from various parts of the United States and Puerto Rico have left their homes,families and everything they knew to give two years of their lives for adventure and the opportunity to try to be better people, to do something for someone else that they've never met. The posts and advertisements show Americans with a group of locals sitting together at a table enjoying a meal, or crowded by young children with one up on their shoulders. And I knew before coming here, that it wouldn't all be as pretty as it seems in the pictures. The manual for PCVs goes into great detail of how you'll be sick, and disrespected, lonely, and depressed nearly at every step of the game - intimidating reading material, but necessary.
We don't hear much about how disappointing Peace Corps service can be at times - that you can work hard, and have projects that you loved and are proud of and still feel so upset with the lack of community interest. I gave my final presentation of all my work yesterday to my community - the trees and trash, radio shows, environmental classes and festivals, the PTA classes, the "Ama Tu Peru" tv commercials, billboards, the youth development program that Carolyn and I created that has and will be replicated all over Peru by other volunteers. I told them how much I cared about them, and how I'd take them everywhere in my heart and share them with my friends, family, and future students in the United States.
Then came the time to honor the 8 families that had made small-landfills at their houses and give them fruit trees as their reward. The 75 people at the meeting rushed me and Tina (the other volunteer who was helping me) to take the trees intended for those families. When I tried to explain they were bought specifically for people who had completed the requirements, they each took a turn telling me off and calling me "bad". One of the women that I thought was my friend is still telling everyone how terrible I was for not giving her a plant. The irony is that I had originally written a grant for over 2000 soles to give every family in Corral de Arena trees. We got the money, and I presented the project at several meetings, visited people at their houses, put announcements on the radio - each time explaining the simple rules. All they had to do was dig a hole 1 meter by 1 meter by 1 meter to bury their trash instead of burn it. After 7 months of trying to get people to make the holes, only 8 families did it. So, I wrote another grant proposal so that we wouldn't lose the money. We used the money to make tv commercials for my "Ama Tu Peru" campaign. Two of the videos feature people from Corral de Arena.
After two years of service, my last meeting ended with the townspeople leaving the room angry at me for the 2 fruit trees (valued at 1 dollar each) that they didn't receive for the work they didn't do.
If given the choice to do Peace Corps all over again, I'm not sure that I could (well, at least not in Corral de Arena). I'd have requested a bigger site with more interest in working. But, I'm still glad I did Peace Corps. The other saying - "the hardest job you'll ever love" - is right on the money. I know that being here has changed the lives of many of my high school students, and especially my host brother Anderson. I just wish these weren't the final words from that meeting. After two years, I wish they would have been more interested in saying goodbye than asking what I was going to give them and yelling at me.
If you're reading this and thinking about doing Peace Corps, do it! No, seriously. It is by far the most meaningful thing I have ever done with my life. But keep in mind that you're probably going to poop your pants (didn't actually happen to me, but to most of my friends), people in your community will probably steal from you at some point, and even towards the end of your service there will be some people who still see you as a dollar sign.
On the positive side, my momma and sis will be here in just a couple of weeks to travel Peru with me. Also, here is one of the videos from the "Ama Tu Peru" campaign, which was my last project. Thanks to all of the volunteers especially Sara, Annie, and Tina, USAID, and the PC staff for making these possible.
We don't hear much about how disappointing Peace Corps service can be at times - that you can work hard, and have projects that you loved and are proud of and still feel so upset with the lack of community interest. I gave my final presentation of all my work yesterday to my community - the trees and trash, radio shows, environmental classes and festivals, the PTA classes, the "Ama Tu Peru" tv commercials, billboards, the youth development program that Carolyn and I created that has and will be replicated all over Peru by other volunteers. I told them how much I cared about them, and how I'd take them everywhere in my heart and share them with my friends, family, and future students in the United States.
Then came the time to honor the 8 families that had made small-landfills at their houses and give them fruit trees as their reward. The 75 people at the meeting rushed me and Tina (the other volunteer who was helping me) to take the trees intended for those families. When I tried to explain they were bought specifically for people who had completed the requirements, they each took a turn telling me off and calling me "bad". One of the women that I thought was my friend is still telling everyone how terrible I was for not giving her a plant. The irony is that I had originally written a grant for over 2000 soles to give every family in Corral de Arena trees. We got the money, and I presented the project at several meetings, visited people at their houses, put announcements on the radio - each time explaining the simple rules. All they had to do was dig a hole 1 meter by 1 meter by 1 meter to bury their trash instead of burn it. After 7 months of trying to get people to make the holes, only 8 families did it. So, I wrote another grant proposal so that we wouldn't lose the money. We used the money to make tv commercials for my "Ama Tu Peru" campaign. Two of the videos feature people from Corral de Arena.
After two years of service, my last meeting ended with the townspeople leaving the room angry at me for the 2 fruit trees (valued at 1 dollar each) that they didn't receive for the work they didn't do.
If given the choice to do Peace Corps all over again, I'm not sure that I could (well, at least not in Corral de Arena). I'd have requested a bigger site with more interest in working. But, I'm still glad I did Peace Corps. The other saying - "the hardest job you'll ever love" - is right on the money. I know that being here has changed the lives of many of my high school students, and especially my host brother Anderson. I just wish these weren't the final words from that meeting. After two years, I wish they would have been more interested in saying goodbye than asking what I was going to give them and yelling at me.
If you're reading this and thinking about doing Peace Corps, do it! No, seriously. It is by far the most meaningful thing I have ever done with my life. But keep in mind that you're probably going to poop your pants (didn't actually happen to me, but to most of my friends), people in your community will probably steal from you at some point, and even towards the end of your service there will be some people who still see you as a dollar sign.
On the positive side, my momma and sis will be here in just a couple of weeks to travel Peru with me. Also, here is one of the videos from the "Ama Tu Peru" campaign, which was my last project. Thanks to all of the volunteers especially Sara, Annie, and Tina, USAID, and the PC staff for making these possible.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
The Best Kind of Chicken Sandwich
My birthday was last week, the last birthday I will celebrate as a Peace Corps volunteer in Peru by the way. My friends came to my house in Peru, and Dr. Sara made this chicken sandwich that she promised me last year as my birthday gift that she would make for me again. It's this incredible sandwich she created with a salsa from passion-fruit (maracuya), cucumbers, sauteed onions and her handmade flat bread! Yum! I absolutely love this sandwich! After we ate the sandwiches, we had this amazing beetcake (you just have to try it) and brownies and Tina's fancy mac-n-cheese with a layer of crunched bacon. I looked around at all my friends sitting near the fire telling funny stories. A few of my primary students showed up and we taught them how to make smores. We sang the U.S. and Peruvian National Anthems and danced around the fire. One of my sitemates, Annie, made a touching speech about why she loved and appreciated me. I carried my sweet 7 year-old host brother to his mom after he fell asleep around the campfire, too excited to go to bed. I went to sleep on the hard ground in our tent feeling so very loved.
I think about the ways in which Jesus used food, and who he invited to dine with him. There is this one story (parable) that Jesus tells where a man invites honored guests to a dinner, but they all one-by-one find different reasons to not attend. And so the guy decides to invite random people from the streets and the alleyways to his dinner instead (Luke 14). When I think about what it will be like to sit down and eat a chicken sandwich with Jesus (and we will eat chicken sandwiches!), I imagine many different things. I can imagine my great appreciation of just having that moment. I can imagine myself moments before crying at his feet, cleaning his feet with my tears like that woman in the Bible. I imagine feeling loved and accepted, with one of his arms around me. But I will never for even a moment imagine a Jesus that would greet me with anything other than a with a great celebration that we're finally together. And he knows my voice all too well. He hears me when I beat my chest in my room and cry out for the ways that I am selfish, and the ways that I hurt others or don't do what I should. Jesus hears me when I pray for new ways to feed the hungry, care for the sick, visit the imprisoned and clothe the naked (see Matt. 25).
And one day, I hope we can eat a chicken sandwich together and he can teach me more about how to bring this Kingdom of God in my every move...or maybe just enjoy laughing together. For those of you who are from the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered community who have associated chicken sandwiches differently with Jesus this week, I hope this gives you a different image. You are loved. You are not sick. And one day, the chicken sandwich will reign supreme again.
And if you are reading this right now and ate a chicken sandwich this week to make a point about free speech. Here's to freedom of speech. And here's to finding ways to encourage free speech that don't make others hate Christianity and the Church even more. Here's to breaking bread with all of our brothers and sisters, and not alienating people. I got online and felt so hurt, and sick to my stomach. And none of those photos of people with chicken sandwiches made me want to pray with those people or go to their churches - the opposite in fact. And then I thought about my friends making me that chicken sandwich, and what it would be like to share some "sandwich time" with the Creator of the Universe. And I think I might want to go pick one up at the Peruvian chicken stand tonight for dinner after all.
I think about the ways in which Jesus used food, and who he invited to dine with him. There is this one story (parable) that Jesus tells where a man invites honored guests to a dinner, but they all one-by-one find different reasons to not attend. And so the guy decides to invite random people from the streets and the alleyways to his dinner instead (Luke 14). When I think about what it will be like to sit down and eat a chicken sandwich with Jesus (and we will eat chicken sandwiches!), I imagine many different things. I can imagine my great appreciation of just having that moment. I can imagine myself moments before crying at his feet, cleaning his feet with my tears like that woman in the Bible. I imagine feeling loved and accepted, with one of his arms around me. But I will never for even a moment imagine a Jesus that would greet me with anything other than a with a great celebration that we're finally together. And he knows my voice all too well. He hears me when I beat my chest in my room and cry out for the ways that I am selfish, and the ways that I hurt others or don't do what I should. Jesus hears me when I pray for new ways to feed the hungry, care for the sick, visit the imprisoned and clothe the naked (see Matt. 25).
And one day, I hope we can eat a chicken sandwich together and he can teach me more about how to bring this Kingdom of God in my every move...or maybe just enjoy laughing together. For those of you who are from the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered community who have associated chicken sandwiches differently with Jesus this week, I hope this gives you a different image. You are loved. You are not sick. And one day, the chicken sandwich will reign supreme again.
And if you are reading this right now and ate a chicken sandwich this week to make a point about free speech. Here's to freedom of speech. And here's to finding ways to encourage free speech that don't make others hate Christianity and the Church even more. Here's to breaking bread with all of our brothers and sisters, and not alienating people. I got online and felt so hurt, and sick to my stomach. And none of those photos of people with chicken sandwiches made me want to pray with those people or go to their churches - the opposite in fact. And then I thought about my friends making me that chicken sandwich, and what it would be like to share some "sandwich time" with the Creator of the Universe. And I think I might want to go pick one up at the Peruvian chicken stand tonight for dinner after all.
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