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I recently spent time crossing between the border towns of Douglas, Arizona, U.S.A. and Agua Prieta, Sonora, Mexico with a group of 11 other YAVs, our site coordinators, and leaders of an organization called Frontera de Cristo. During this week, we were continuously welcomed into homes, resource centers, bible studies, and churches as we struggled to learn what life is like for those on the other side of the border. All throughout this week, we carried with us the privilege that will forever keep us from fully understanding – the privilege of being able to cross smoothly through the port of entry over and over and over again – the privilege of being U.S. citizens. Now, I invite you to struggle with me, as I try to figure out how, as a white privileged woman, I can share the stories of those I met and what I experienced without shifting into the all-too-easy white savior. I don’t claim to be an expert or to fully understand the complexities and nuances that affect our Southwestern border and all those that come into contact with it, but I do know that as a U.S. citizen, as much as I don’t want to believe it, this is my border. My wall. My responsibility.And I think it’s probably yours too. It’s time we own this. What I witnessed in the ways our immigration system is implemented each day simultaneously shatters my heart and enrages me. However, out of my experience at the border also come stories of love, gratitude, faithfulness, and hope. I hope that these things will stick with you as we begin examining the ways in which we as U.S. citizens are implicated in this. Story 1On our first full day, we were invited to dinner at a migrant resource center called C.A.M.E., where we heard about the work that they do in helping migrants and asylum-seekers in all stages of the process. C.A.M.E. provides warmth through a place to sleep, the filling food they offer, and the kind people that work there non-stop each day. Over the simple act of sharing a meal, our YAV group each heard stories of those that were staying at the shelter. Spread out around the dinner tables, some listened to migrants who had spent twenty years working in the U.S. to only be suddenly deported. Others heard the stories of a group of trans women that had experienced terrible violence in their home countries and were traveling together to seek asylum in the U.S. I listened to a pregnant women from Honduras who was traveling with her teenage daughter and hoping to be granted asylum so that she might join her family in Georgia. Through a few tears and a brave smile, this women, who shall remain anonymous, shared with myself and a couple others in our group the details of her journey and her hopes for the coming months. She described the unstable nature of her home country and the intense poverty they could not escape, and how, to her, this was her only option. She was leaving behind two young children, who were staying with her mother, and though this seems unthinkable to someone of my privilege, she had to do something to create a better life for her family. All she wants is a steady job that will earn enough for a small house for herself and her children. Part of the beauty in this interaction was the lack of Spanish speaking skills of myself and the other YAVs at my table. After many Spanish classes, I can keep a conversation going (all in present tense, of course), but I don’t have the knowledge to fully converse on a subject of this magnitude. However, this meant instead of talking, we listened, and I think that is incredibly important as we strive to do liberation work in solidarity with those that are directly affected. Our new friend was continually patient with us as we tried our best to understand. At the end of the night, we thanked her for her courage and for sharing her story with us. We wished her the best as she went to the port of entry the next day to request asylum. I walked away grateful for hearing her personal journey but also thinking that I’d never see her again. As often happens, I was wrong. The next evening as we crossed the border to join a weekly prayer vigil, I heard someone say my name. I’d vaguely noticed people sitting along the wall, but we were running late and I was digging through my bag for my passport. When I heard my name, I looked up, and there was our friend from the night before. Immediately, a rush of embarrassment flooded through me, and even writing this now, I feel it again. It was in this moment that I felt the weight of my privilege crash down on me in a way that it never has before. As we were being waved through the port, I barely made out an “hola, ¿como estás?” I immediately regretted not getting out of line and actually acknowledging her and her daughter. I felt ashamed that I was too caught up in my own life to notice her, and I felt furious that I was able to cross so easily yet she could not. As we continued on with our evening, I could think of nothing else except our friends sitting by the wall, not being allowed to set foot on U.S. property, meaning that they couldn’t get close enough to request asylum. I also couldn’t stop thinking about the ways in which I had just been personally a part of perpetuating our broken and oppressive immigration system. Later on that night, a few of us went back to the border crossing to see if our two friends were still there; they were. The two asylum-seekers, one 8-months pregnant with bronchitis, were made to wait in the cold for almost 24 hours since the processing office was “full.” We were told 8 asylum-seekers a day are let in at the Douglas/Agua Prieta port of entry, but in reality, we saw that maybe 1 or 2 were actually allowed to begin the long process of requesting asylum, many of which are eventually denied. We brought blankets and hot tea and sat with them as they waited, unwilling to leave in fear of losing their place in line. Because there was nothing we could do or say that would solve the problem in this moment, they only thing we could do was show up. To be present and to show our solidarity. We tried to use our privilege for something good by asking the border patrol officers that sat on the other side of the fence why they were having to wait so long. We sat as witnesses to the injustice being done to human beings each and every day along that wall. The border patrol agents did indeed have their heater turned towards our friends, but I kept asking myself, where is the humanity in this situation? Why are they made to seemingly “prove how much they want this” by waiting hours in the cold? Why is this our system? After an hour or so, when it seemed like they might want to try to get some sleep, we got up, said goodbye and good luck, and resumed our normal lives. Our outsider status was never more apparent to me as we left. We can never fully understand what it feels like to have to leave your family and your home because it’s too dangerous or unstable and flee in search of something better – but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. I probably will never find out if our friends seeking asylum will be able to reunite with their family in Georgia, but I now have a better grasp of the system and know that they are a long way from the life she dreamed of. Their story is just beginning. The courage, determination, and unfailing hope our friend shared with us as she waited to seek asylum in the U.S. will remain with me always and sparked my acknowledgment of my role in the issues affecting our Southwestern border. After all, this is my border. My wall. My responsibility. And yours, too. Moving forward, I’m asking myself these questions: What does it mean to be a responsible U.S. citizen? How does our faith inform our response to social issues? For, I have called you by name. You are mine. ISAIAH 43:1 This is my story of being called out by name to no longer ignore my responsibility. I believe that we called to do the work of God not just with our hands but with our voices.  To read more from Julie, click here.
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God has a funny way of sending us exactly where we need to be when we least expect it. When I signed up in June for the 2018 Pilgrimage for Unity , a three day ecumenical journey through New Mexico, I was mostly focused on the 50 miles of walking, simultaneously feeling excited and hesitant about that long of a distance. However, at the time, it was far enough away that I gave it very little thought, except when my mom reminded me every so often that I should maybe at least think about training for it. For about two weeks, I was great at completing practice walks, and even recruited my dad to do a practice 20-mile day with me on Greenville’s Swamp Rabbit Trail (Thanks, Dad!) However, as I moved to Albuquerque and began transitioning into being a YAV, all of that went out of the window. When the week of the Pilgrimage arrived, which also happened to be our first week of work, I was woefully unprepared and even had to be constantly reminded by my roommates that I was leaving for the weekend. Somehow, I made it with all my gear to the vans on Thursday, and the journey could begin.  Ghost Ranch We started our journey at Ghost Ranch, a Presbyterian-owned retreat center and a favorite site of artist Georgia O’Keeffe. We began walking on Friday with each morning starting at 4:30 am with breakfast and an opening prayer. Though rising before the sun was not fun, it made for stunning views as it rose over the mountains and gave us a head start on the imminent heat. On the first day, we walked from Christ in the Desert, a Roman Catholic Benedictine monastery, and back to Ghost Ranch, about 15. 5 miles. Within the first few hours, I found myself falling into an easy rhythm. Despite the fact that I’d barely readied myself for this experience, among the 32 other pilgrims, the vast landscapes, and the prayers, silence, and singing, I felt all the stress leading up to this journey melt away. It no longer mattered that I was still not quite settled in to New Mexico life or that my job wasn’t exactly what I’d imagined. Instead, to the tune of synchronized steps in the gravel, we walked, we prayed, and we talked. Life as a pilgrim was simple, and I could finally catch my breath. This was where I was supposed to be, even if I hadn’t stopped long enough to realize it. For the next two days, we kept moving in this rhythm. Each 2.5 miles/50 minutes, we would be met by our amazing support team with water, snacks, sunscreen, and the port-a-potty (yes, quite a luxurious trek!). After about 10 minutes, we continued on, sometimes with particular intentions for the next stretch; other times, purely focused on getting to know each other and being present in exactly where we were in our journey. Day 2 of walking brought us from Ghost Ranch along Highway 94, on a path by the Chama River, past Georgia O’Keeffe’s house, and to the historic village of Abiquiu, where we stayed for our third night in an old boarding school; a total of 17.5 miles.  As I walked, I found myself constantly looking at the ground. The paths we traversed were often uneven, so in an effort not to trip, I watched my feet. However, I realized that by focusing on my feet, I was missing so much around me. The surrounding views were breath-taking, completely different from anything I’m used to, and I was missing it. I was walking right by, focused on keeping myself safe and getting to the end. I vowed the moment I noticed this to remind myself to look up. To take in the views and the people around me – even if that meant I might stumble. This wasn’t an easy thing to remember, but I kept at, allowing myself to just soak it all in, remaining present and reflecting later. On our last day, Day 3, we walked from Hernandez, NM, through Española, and to our final destination, El Santuario de Chimayó, one of the most visited pilgrimage locations in the US and a significant site associated with healing – 14.5 miles. As we embarked on our last stretch, two miles from our lunch stop to the end in Chimayó, I was surprised that I wasn’t that excited to reach the end. I had enjoyed walking and the simplicity and focus that it had allowed me. I was surprised to recognize that (as cheesy as it sounds) it truly wasn’t about the destination but about the journey that brought us there. If I hadn’t made the intentional effort to look up and take it all in, I would have missed it. Perhaps because I was so unprepared, I had entered into this journey with no expectations, which allowed me to truly just be. As I continue reflecting on the three days of the Pilgrimage for Unity, I am setting the challenge for myself during this next year to not forget to look up. If I’ve learned anything from this experience and my fellow Pilgrims, by cultivating a stronger awareness of the world outside of my own, I am sure to find more compassion, peace, and joy than I’ve ever known. “When I lose my direction, I look up to the sky.” – The Once and Future Carpenter by the Avett Brothers I want to take a moment to express my gratitude for each person involved in the 2018 Pilgrimage for Unity. It was an experience and a community like no other and one that I will never forget. I felt welcomed, supported, and known. Thank you all for making New Mexico begin to feel like home.  To read more from Julie's blog, click here!
The first two weeks of being in Albuquerque was all about orienting ourselves to our new surroundings, meeting key people like ABQ YAV board members, and starting to set up guidelines for our intentional community. Even though we were often busy and on adventures during our downtime I thought it was hard not to want to speed time up and get to work. Along with that desire to jump right in often times came myself and the other ABQ YAVs asking my site coordinator “Luke, can we start work yet?”  My roommate Julie & I relaxing during our down time. One of the first group outings was a drive up to the Sandia Crest to hike a tiny bit and watch the sunset. I enjoyed the beauty of the moment in two ways, one being the physical beauty of the area and the other being the organic opportunity get to know each other and the start of what will be our intentional living community for the year. The sunset picnic was a great chance to explore the area and share a meal together. Another new exciting experience was Zozobra in Santa Fe. Zozobra is a tradition where burning Zozobra (“Old Man Gloom”) is the enemy of all that is good. The burning of Zozobra represents the hopeful end of a years worth of darkness that had been cast over the city. This event largely represents good trumping evil and a hopeful start to a period of celebrations in Santa Fe. It was a fun day even though it was without a doubt a long day and it rained on us because after all it is monsoon season here. A key part of our time in Santa Fe was recognizing that Zozobra takes place on public land that is part of the Land and Water Conservation Fund which is in need of protecting. In the morning we went to a rally focused on saving the Land and Water Conservation Fund. Luke was asked to dress up as Ranger Rick and entertain the school kids who came to see Zozobra. That part of the day was hilariously entertaining for us but not a main focal cultural point of the event as a whole. Along with our trip to Santa Fe we had a chance to meet Andrew Black who grew up in Santa Fe and now serves as an associate pastor at First Presbyterian Church of Santa Fe which is the church he also grew up in. Andrew shared some history of the area, gave us a tour of the church that celebrated it’s 151st anniversary this year and explained some of the work he does with the Land and Water Conservation Fund. We spent four days of local orientation meeting our community partners and experiencing aspects of each others work placements. This year I will be working for Heading Home, a not for profit organization that is dedicated to making experiences of homelessness rare, short-lived and non recurring. Specifically I will be the coordinator of their volunteers so throughout the year I will get the chance to familiarize myself with lots of different aspects of the organization. I think this will be a valuable learning experience for me because I may want to work for a non profit in the future. Some other community partners that my housemates will be working for and we visited are Hope Works, Menaul School, and Second Presbyterian Church. I think each of the placements will provide us with hands-on real world experiences and I feel I am well fitted with Heading Home and I also think every placement will give each of us a favorable opportunity to magnify our strengths as well as push ourselves and grow.  Two unique experiences we were fortunate to have during our first two weeks were a trip to Santo Domingo Pueblo and a day in Madrid. The uniqueness of the experiences was that in both cases we were invited to dig deeper, be shown around by locals and have interactive experiences with people who were willing to share their stories and history with us. In Santo Domingo Pueblo we were invited to a feast and got to hear about life in a Native American Pueblo and examine how there is huge differences between their culture and lifestyle even though we were only 45 minutes away from Albuquerque. In Madrid we got a perspective of how a mining town turned into a ghost town and has now transformed into an arts community. John grew up in Madrid and had a wealth of information about the changes and past that he was willing to share with us. In connection with the openness of the family in Santo Domingo and John in Madrid, I felt the start of myself investing in the community around me, taking a deeper look at cultural heritage and starting to not be a tourist but living like a local. Moving forward in this new place, a big part for me will be remembering to be mindful about walking alongside people, not trying to change or fix things for them and being conscious that I am being welcomed into a community and/or organization but that I am not needed. Also, I need to be cognizant that every person I come in contact with comes with their own valuable perspectives that matter. I find joy in the journey and I am enthusiastically awaiting my first day of work (on 9/11) as well as the rest of year inviting discomfort and knowing that it’s going to be challenging but that there is always good that comes out of the chaos and difficult conversations.  Escape and breathe the air of new places. To read more of Kim's blog, click here!
They warned me that I’d want to stay here in Albuquerque, but I didn’t take it seriously until about three months ago! February, March, and April were filled with several opportunities for spiritual discernment, exploration, and lots of traveling! I’m happy to have had the OPPORTUNITIES to make the most out of this year and to really challenge myself to seek out what I want this next year to look like. *Truth is… I don’t really know (: but God’s hands are all over it already! In February, I visited the West coast for the first time, by participating in a visitors weekend at the San Francisco Theological Seminary to visit their campus, as well as the Graduate Theological Union, which SFTF and eight divinity schools are a part of. In March, I was blessed to have a second trip to the Golden State of California to visit two other seminaries AND visit beloved friends from Texas. In Pasadena, I visited Fuller Theological Seminary and explored Los Angeles area with Sonja, Javier, Maureen and Manuel. Then I headed back up to the Bay Area to spend the weekend at a Signs Along the Way Discernment Weekend at the Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary in Berkeley.  In addition, my fellow YAVs and I were invited to attend the Synod of the Southwest meeting in Phoenix, Arizona, so we had yet another fun road-trip and the opportunity to share our YAV experience, reflections, and some testimonies.  In April, I brought (figuratively and mentally) my previous seminary visits, reflection, thoughts and questions to the Forum of Theological Exploration, regional retreat in Minneapolis, MN. Through nomination through the YAV program, I was invited to attend and participate in a weekend of seminars, activities, and exploration labs – alongside 90+ other young adults among a variety of faith backgrounds, who find themselves navigating their calling through positions and areas of Christian leadership within the community and the church.  At the FTE Retreat, we learned about building beloved community // a multi-ethnic and multi-racial community, where love is the governing aspect (Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.) in order to hold space that creates space. In addition, we had the chance to discuss and reenact the Biblical leadership roles of the: Prophet, Priest, Elder/Sage, and King; in respect to past and current movements, as well as leaders, and challenging ourselves to see the different versions of leadership we have and how to best use each role in respective atmospheres. Once, I returned to Albuquerque – it was time to start making real decisions about what I’d be doing after my YAV year ended. I only applied to Fuller Theological Seminary and had been accepted – which I am glad about! But I wasn’t too sure about relocating to Pasadena, CA. Then, I began entertaining the idea of possibly sticking around in Albuquerque for another year – but not as a YAV – simply to rent, work and continue being involved in this community I’ve grown to love. From the beginning (even before moving to Albuquerque), they said it’s the wonderful Land of Enchantment, but it’ll turn into the Land of Entrapment, convincing you to stay! So officially, I will be staying in Albuquerque for (at least) another year!!! To my delight, I haven’t been stressing about finding work – God has aligned the right community, connections and a number of part-time positions. I’ll be continuing work within the church, in accepting two new positions as the Youth Group Coordinator at a local congregation, St. Andrew Presbyterian Church, and as the Communications Specialist at the Presbytery of Santa Fe (located in Albuquerque). In addition, I’m excited to maintain involvement at Camino de Vida as a place of spiritual growth and connection among their community, but also as I continue assistance through the English as a Second Language program and administratively. I’m beyond grateful for the variety of positions allowing me to become more involved in the Albuquerque faith community individually and at-large. *Beginning classes online at Fuller Theological Seminary is still an option for this upcoming academic year, but not 100% in the plan yet – however, I’m more than interested in pursuing the MA in Intercultural Studies when the time is right. I also hope to put my minor in photography to good use by seeking out photography opportunities for portrait and special occasion shoots. Please check out my Photography Portfolio – I’d greatly appreciate Albuquerque locals to share the word and my portfolio page for those interested! I’ve been completely blessed by a spectacular year, a welcoming Albuquerque community for this kick-off ABQ YAV site year, and the greatest group of ladies to share the experience with – as well as the greatest site coordinator Luke!!! I’m even more thankful to be staying in Albuquerque with my lovely roommate Ana, as we’ve decided to share an apartment together while she starts her undergrad locally.    This year was unlike any Lenten journey… In my past experience of Lent, I’ve always had a hard time connecting spiritually. As a kid, raised in the Catholic church, I tended to connect Lent with: rules, obligation, and wondering why giving up chocolate deemed you closer to God. When really, Lent is a period of time intended to “enable us to come back to the Lord wholeheartedly and in every aspect of our life” (Pope Francis, 2018). Este año fue diferente que otros tiempos de Cuaresma… En mi experiencia pasada de Cuaresma, siempre he tenido un tiempo difícil de conectarme espiritualmente. Como una niña, criada en la iglesia católica, solía conectar Cuaresma con: reglas, obligación y preguntándome cómo no comer chocolate se hace más cercano a Dios. Cuando en realidad, la Cuaresma es un tiempo intencionado para “permitirnos a regresar al Señor de todo el corazón y en cada aspecto de nuestra vida” (Papa Francis, 2018). In a pre-Lent devotional with the North New Mexico Conference of Lutheran Churches, I was able to begin Lent with a few statements to lean into as we had a moment to ‘vent on Lent‘… To give up, or to rather: ‘open up‘ To create sustainability in habits or devotions, rather than trying to quit habits cold-turkey or create new ones, as if one was going to run a marathon without any preparation – To practice adaptive change For such a time as this // Precisamente para un momento como este (ref. Esther 4:14) En un devocional previo a la Cuaresma con la Conferencia de Iglesias Luterana del Norte de Nuevo México, yo pude comenzar la Cuaresma con algunas declaraciones que las conectaba durante ese estudio. Para dejar de algo, o más bien: ‘abrirse‘ Para crear sostenibilidad en los hábitos o devociones, en lugar de tratar de dejar los hábitos sin pensar o crear otros nuevos, como si uno fuera a correr un maratón sin ninguna preparación. Para practicar el cambio adaptativo. This quote specifically spoke to me with a new perspective on the word lent… “I believe it is the church’s duty in this moment in our history to remind us that our lives belong to God… And that belonging to God, is LENT to us for this time, to do what we can to help our neighbor. (Lutheran Bishop Guy Erwin, 2018) Esta frase específicamente me llamó la atención para tener un perspectivo nuevo con la palabra cuaresma… “Creo que es el deber de la iglesia en este momento de nuestra historia para recordarnos que nuestras vidas pertenecen a Dios … Y esa pertenencia a Dios, esta prestado para nosotros en este momento, para hacer lo que podamos para ayudar a nuestro prójimo. (Obispo luterana Guy Erwin, 2018). Silent Lenten Retreat @ The Nobertine Community   The YAV community and I had our spring retreat locally in Albuquerque at the Norbertine Community / Santa Maria de la Vid Abbey. We dedicated a whole day to: Silence, Solitude, and Prayer Throughout that day, I realized that most of my mornings before heading to work at Camino de Vida are normally filled with silence and solitude – and short prayers. However, the difference between all my normal mornings and this full day – is all the distractions I tend to have in front of me, such as: Phone, computer, to do’s and other desires to be productive – and cat naps. This day was meant to allow our minds and bodies to be free from commitment, doing, and even thinking about certain things. To take the time to just reflect, be silent, and be. For me, this day looked like: reading, sitting, walking around in nature, drawing, lunch, and prayer. La comunidad de YAV y y yo tuvimos nuestro retiro de primavera en la comunidad se llama Norbertine / Santa Maria de la Vid Abbey. Dedicamos todo el día a: Silencio, soledad y oración A lo largo de ese día, me di cuenta de que la mayoría de mis mañanas antes de ir a trabajar en Camino de Vida están llenas de silencio y soledad, y cortas oraciones. Sin embargo, la diferencia entre todas mis mañanas normales y este día completo es todas las distracciones que tengo frente a mí, por ejemplo: teléfono, computadora, cosas por hacer y otros deseos de ser productivo, y siestas. Este día fue diseñado para permitir las mentes y los cuerpos para estar libres de compromiso, de hacer e incluso de pensar en ciertas cosas. Simplemente para usar el tiempo para reflexionar, estar en silencio, y ser. Para mí, este día parecía: leer, sentarse, caminar en la naturaleza, dibujar, almorzar y orar.  What I added to my life during Lent? Lenten Bible Study: Doctrine of Discovery // ¿Qué agregué a mi vida durante la Cuaresma? Estudio Bíblico de Cuaresma: la Doctrina del Descubrimiento An ecumenical group, New Mexico Conference of Churches, hosted a series which focused on exposing the Doctrine of Discovery – creating a space for understanding, healing, and further conversation and action between people of all background, especially those of European & Spanish-settler decent and Native American, as well as all living in New Mexico’s culturally diverse cities. Un grupo ecuménico, la Conferencia de Iglesias de Nuevo México, organizó una serie que se centró en exponer la Doctrina del Descubrimiento – creando un espacio para pensar y entender, para la curación, la conversación y la acción entre personas de todo tipo, especialmente las de la descendencia europea y española y nativos americanos, así como todos los que viven en las ciudades diversas en cultura de Nuevo México.  This year was the first year, for me, to formally celebrate Indigenous People’s Day, in a city that has chosen to recognize the First Land’s people, rather than the one who “discovered” already occupied land. Click here and see if your state and/or city recognizes Indigenous Peoples Day Este año fue el primer año, para mí, para celebrar formalmente el Día del Pueblos Indígenas, en una cuidad que ha elegido reconocer a la gente que vivía en esta tierra, en vez de la persona que “descubrió” la tierra ya ocupada. Haga click aquí para ver si tu estado y/o ciudad celebra el Día del Pueblos Indígenas “Many Americans grow up learning that this continent was “discovered” by Christopher Columbus. The concept of discovery, as if the land was empty prior to arrival and its indigenous inhabitants were somehow “less than” the explorers is, at its heart, racism and cultural superiority. The doctrine of discovery, a concept of public international law expounded by the United States Supreme Court in a series of decisions, originated from various church documents in Christian Europe in the mid-1400s to justify the pattern of domination and oppression by European monarchies as they invasively arrived in the Western hemisphere. It theologically asserted the right to claim the indigenous lands, territories, and resources on behalf of Christendom, and to subjugate native peoples around the world.” (Resource from the UCC) “Muchos estadounidenses crecen aprendiendo que este continente fue “descubierto “por Christopher Columbus. El concepto de descubrimiento, como si la tierra estuviera vacía antes de la llegada y sus habitantes indígenas fueran de alguna manera “menos que” los exploradores, es en esencia el racismo y superioridad cultural. La doctrina del descubrimiento, un concepto de derecho internacional público expuesto por el Tribunal Supremo de los Estados Unidos en una serie de decisiones, se originó a partir de varios documentos de la iglesia en la Europa cristiana a mediados del siglo XIV para justificar el patrón de dominación y opresión de las monarquías europeas. invasoramente llegó al hemisferio occidental. Teológicamente afirmó el derecho a reclamar tierras, territorios y recursos indígenas en nombre de la cristiandad, y subyugar a los pueblos originarios de todo el mundo”. (Recurso de la UCC) Through the program orientation to Albuquerque and the rich history of this land’s people, we quickly uncovered the wounds, past and current, but also signs of hope and healing. The hard part for Christians when exposing the Doctrine of Discovery is realizing the hand that our brothers and sisters in Christ had in this part of history. In recognizing how this document is used as justification for Christians and now the government to ‘discover’ and claim both land and superiority. For example, three days into joining my fellow YAVs in Albuquerque, we settled into our new home on the campus of the Menaul Boarding School (commonly referred to as the old Indian boarding school and later an all boys, Spanish-speaking boarding school). Then, we visited the Indian Pueblo Museum, learned about the number of surrounding native nations and pueblos, their culture, tradition, and history, and heard about how Native children often were forced to leave their tribes and families to assimilate into US culture and formal education – and then read about how certain denominations typically took commission in making these Indian boarding schools a reality. In this moment, it wasn’t just an un-relatable, historic moment with unseen ties of connection – but it was a small example and connection to my complicity. As I’m here in partnership with the Presbyterian Church, the same denomination that built the campus I’m living on and this old Indian boarding school years ago, I realized this is the hard part: Seeing how the wounds and brokenness of the past are connected to our ancestry, a number of Christian denominations, as well as to a whole lot of good intentions that hurt millions of good people… Realizing the that the history we’d been taught our whole lives, is one upholding a perspective of American nationalism, rather than the burdening truth that we’re all immigrants living on stolen land from of Indigenous people… Questioning my ancestry about where my ancestors migrated from and why, where they immigrated to, who was living on this land before/when they settled, and were there displaced or marginalized people affected… Through this Christian study in the presence of Native Americans and people of numerous backgrounds and faith, we strived to move to a place of restored relationship with God, our community, and creation. “When you have a conflict, that means that there are truths that have to be addressed on each side of the conflict. And when you have conflict, then it’s an educational process to try to resolve the conflict. And to resolve that, you have to get people on both sides of the conflict involved so that they can dialogue.” – Dolores Huerta So together we created dialogue – hearing the pain and owning responsibility in the power we have today to create a space for understanding, healing, and further conversation and action – seeing the signs of hope, like our gathering and the unity of people who feel the burden of knowing , but who are striving for peace and justice. A través de la orientación del programa a Albuquerque y la historia rica de la gente de esta tierra, rápidamente descubrimos las heridas, pasadas y actuales, pero también signos de esperanza y curación. La parte difícil para los cristianos al exponer la Doctrina del Descubrimiento es darse cuenta de la mano que nuestros hermanos y hermanas en Cristo tenían en esta parte de la historia. Al reconocer cómo se usa este documento como justificación para los cristianos y ahora el gobierno para ‘descubrir’ y reclamar tanto la tierra como la superioridad. Por ejemplo, tres días después de unirme a mis compañeros de YAV en Albuquerque, entramos en nuestro nuevo hogar en el campus de Menaul Boarding School (comúnmente conocido como la antigua escuela de los Nativos y más tarde como una escuela para niños, de habla español). Luego, visitamos el Indian Pueblo Museum, aprendimos sobre los pueblos y naciones nativas, su cultura, tradición e historia, y escuchamos cómo los niños nativos tuvieron que abandonar sus tribus y familias para asimilarse a la cultura y sistema de educación de los estados unidos – y luego leer sobre las ciertas denominaciones que tomaron comisión para hacer de estos escuelas nativos una realidad. En este momento, no era solo un momento histórico imposible de identificar, sino que era un pequeño ejemplo y una conexión con mi complicidad. Como estoy aquí con un programma de la Iglesia Presbiteriana, la misma denominación que construyó el campus donde vivo y este antigua escuela nativo hace años, me di cuenta de que esta es la parte más difícil: Para ver cómo las heridas del pasado están conectados a nuestros antepasados, una serie de denominaciones cristianas, así como a un montón de intenciones buenas que lastiman a millones de personas buenas… Para darme cuenta de la historia que nos enseñaron durante toda la vida, que está usado para defender una perspectiva del nacionalismo estadounidense, en un lugar de la verdad pesada de todos somos inmigrantes que viven en tierras robadas de los pueblos indígenas… Para cuestionar sobre mi ascendencia acerca de dónde que emigraron mis antepasados y por qué, a dónde emigraron, quién vivía en esta tierra antes / cuando se establecieron, y hubo personas desplazadas o marginadas que fueron afectadas… A través de este estudio cristiano en la presencia de los nativos americanos y personas de orígenes y fe diversos – nos tratamos a movernos a un lugar que tiene una relación restaurada con Dios, nuestra comunidad y nuestra creación. “Cuando se tiene un conflicto, eso significa que hay verdades que deben abordarse en cada lado del conflicto. Y cuando se tiene un conflicto, entonces es un proceso de educación para intentar a resolver el conflicto. Y para resolverlo, se tiene que involucrar a las personas de ambos lados del conflicto para que puedan dialogar“. – Dolores Huerta Así que juntos creamos el diálogo, escuchando el dolor y asumiendo la responsabilidad en el poder que tenemos hoy para crear un espacio para entender, y empezar la curación, la conversación y la acción. También, viendo los signos de esperanza, como nuestra reunión y la unidad de las personas que sienten la carga de saber, pero también quienes luchan por la paz y la justicia. ------------------------------------------------------------ La Semana Santa fue celebrado con mi comunidad en la iglesia Camino de Vida – Esta semana llena de gozo, celebrando nuestro Rey Resucitado en muchos servicios. // Holy Week spent with my community at Camino de Vida was a joyous week of celebrating the Risen King in a number of services. Domingo de Ramos // Palm Sunday  Camino de Vida youth at the Children’s Sermon  Jueves Santo // Maundy Thursday  Last Supper Table to share communion with the congregation  After communion, the congregation took turns washing each other’s feet, as Jesus did for his disciples.  Viernes Santo // Good Friday @ Second Presbyterian Church  Domingo de Resurrección // Resurrection Sunday    To read more from Claire, click here.
These five months of living as a Young Adult Volunteer have initiated incredible learning and growing, for sure; however, they haven’t come without necessary growing pains.
-- I am an individual of great privilege. I am who I am today because of the opportunities, supportive communities, life-long mentors and friends, and love that I have been given. I can never adequately show my gratitude for the strength, love, and confidence you all have instilled in me. Yet, I also can’t ignore that not everyone is born into such a place of love, support, and privilege. This is not to say that I am not privileged in my current living situation either. I have a fulfilling job with supportive co-workers and wonderful students. I live in a beautiful house surrounded by strong, courageous, and engaged sister volunteers. And although we live on a budget smaller than that I have lived on before, we eat, experience life, and live very well and comfortably. So why the growing pains? To be honest, it’s the little things that I knew I was signing up for – the things that I intentionally chose the YAV program in order to experience – that have frustrated me the most and made me most aware of my privilege and of my dependence. -- Over the past three summers, I have written my own curriculum and taught in my own classroom. During student teaching, I had full independence and control to teach what I wanted to and how I wanted to. Here in Albuquerque, I am working as a part-time volunteer teaching assistant. It has been hard for this perfectionist, used-to-having-control, engaged first-year teacher (that would be me) to go from teaching in my own classroom to assisting in seven different classrooms. Sometimes I feel like I am not doing enough. Sometimes I feel like things are not going how I would like them to. Sometimes I want to do more. And yet, being a teaching assistant has given me the opportunity to grow in ways that I wouldn’t if I were teaching in my own classroom. Not having to focus on lesson planning, copying papers, and always being the one to give instruction has allowed me to solely focus my energy on the students’ academic and personal needs. I am learning so much about individual student interests, struggles, and learning needs. I have more time to sit and listen to students who need someone to talk to. I have more time to go to sporting events and support students outside of school. I can work more closely with students who need one-on-one attention. I get frustrated and discouraged sometimes; however, more often than not, I am encouraged and motivated and impressed and inspired by my time with the students here. Taking a step back has been an incredibly humbling learning and growing experience. -- The other main source of growing pains has been not having a car. Since I was able to drive, I have never been without a family car or a personal car to drive. I am fortunate enough to have a bike to ride and the Albuquerque bus system is very affordable, but yet I still get frustrated way too frequently and easily and I often feel stuck. I had never used the public bus system before studying abroad in Costa Rica and I can still count on my two hands the number of times when I have used public transportation in the United States. Growing up, driving a car felt extremely normal and something that was a given. I am reminded frequently here that a car is a huge privilege. And the fact that I have never been without a car until now is an even bigger privilege. Being without a car makes me very dependent on the other YAVs here in New Mexico that do have cars. Although I can bike and ride the bus to a lot of places, there are just as many places that the public transit system does not travel to. And being used to lending out my car and being the designated chauffer for my friends in high school and college, it has been frustrating to have the situation flipped around here. I feel like a burden to other people if I want to do anything off campus. I feel dependent and needy. And yet, in the frustration, I recognize that feeling dependent reminds me of my shared humanity – reminds me of how dependent I really am on my friends, family, and parents. Even when at times I feel independent and strive for more independence, I can never and should never forget that I am interdependent on so many people. Even if it takes something as trivial as not having a car to drive, I am glad (although often reluctantly) for the reminder that I cannot – truly cannot – do everything on my own. I depend on other people and other people depend on me, and that is a necessary and good and solidaria thing. -- Coming from a place of privilege, it is hard to look that privilege in the face and put my reflections into practical action. It’s not an easy nor a quick process. Sometimes, I feel so guilty that I want to stop trying. Sometimes I feel like I am never going to kick the privileged way in which I think or act, so I wonder if it’s even worth trying. And sometimes, I savor and appreciate and feel so blessed to be learning from the times of discomfort and clarity. There are many moments when I recognize how dependent I am; and in these moments, I become frustrated. But these moments also help me recognize how dependent I am on God. Living in conscious dependence of other people and of God doesn’t mesh well with the independent way that I am told I need to live as a young adult. Ultimately, it is in this conscious dependence of my neighbors and of God that I recognize how blessed, lucky, and privileged I am to be doing exactly what I am doing right now. These are little, seemingly non-consequential, non-important things that have been my biggest struggles so far. And yet, I think sometimes, when I don’t take time to recognize, make peace with, and reconcile these little things, I miss the bigger things that God is trying to show me. -- The growing pains that I am experiencing through recognizing and examining my privilege are painful by nature. With hesitancy and excitement, I welcome these pains and offer myself and others grace in the process, realizing the growth that they bring. To read more from Taylor, click here “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” -Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
“Who am I but the dust of the Most High; drifting like a leaf in the summer sky; hoping one day you will see; that what’s inside of you is what’s inside of me?” -Trevor Hall About a week ago, I was walking down Central Avenue and found myself passing many people struggling with homelessness who were hanging out near the bus stops next to this highway. I suddenly became intensely aware of the expensive laptop in my bag and this looming fear of being robbed crept up within me. I then walked faster and farther away from these people, trying to keep my head down, not to make eye contact. While these grim thoughts fought for recognition, I heard this little voice inside of me (I know we are all well aware of this voice), which kept saying “this isn’t right, Beth. Why do you keep running away from your shared humanity? Do you care more about the material things you carry, rather than confronting these egotistical thoughts of assumed hierarchy which separate you from them?” I then slowed my pace, took a deep breath, and witnessed the limiting lenses of my clouded perceptions dissolve into Earth. As I let go of my attachments with the laptop, the true essence of my identity once again became visible through the many faces surrounding me. As Nobel Peace Prize winner, Priest, and Theologian Desmund Tutu explains, “My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together”. Continuing on my walk with gratitude, I watched as Holy Spirit stood by, offering a genuine smile and wave. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you. You can read more from Bethany here. The chimes of my alarms awake me at 6:30 AM, but I don’t rise until 7:00 AM when Bethany pops her head in my room to make sure I’m awake. I throw on gym clothes and then head downstairs to grab a cup of coffee before we head to the gym. Working out has been one of our favorite ways of self care as Bethany and I have been training for a 5K and hope to run a half-marathon before our time in Albuquerque comes to a close. The kitchen is one of my favorite places as it is our morning meeting place before the five of us scatter our separate ways. It is a place of sanctuary and time to connect and offer support before facing some of the tough realities of the world. Our community has become more like a family through sharing of food, emotional support, and friendship. In the early morning, we also cross paths with the other volunteers who live in our building, Teacher’s Hall, on Menaul school’s campus. Volunteers in Mission (VIMs) are retirees who have committed to serving at different organizations for a period of six months. There are six VIMs living in Teacher’s Hall, and their presence has provided a great opportunity to create a multi-generation community in addition to our YAV community. After the gym, I drop Bethany off at work and then head home before I myself need to go to work.
While three of the YAVs work a typical 9 to 5 schedule, Claire and I both work afternoon and evenings. During my free time in the morning before work I have been trying to study to re-take Medical College Admissions Test or do chores such as laundry, cleaning, or grocery shopping. Claire and I will eat lunch together around noon in the great room of Teacher’s Hall before heading our separate ways to work. I had been biking to work since my work site is less than a block away but with the cold weather, busy road and darkness of night when I leave, I find it safer to drive. To get onto the Albuquerque Opportunity Center (AOC) campus I punch in the familiar gate code, grab my walkie-talkie to communicate with other staff throughout the evening, and head to my office in one of the back buildings. The first thing I do is check the bed reservation report—a list of who is staying in each of the 103 beds at the shelter, how long they have been there, when they are due to exit, and any urgent notices taken by other staff members regarding each resident. I go through the list and highlight my clients, making a list of who needs to be seen and topics for discussion. I often find new residents I need to meet with or mysterious disappearances of clients I thought I had just begun making progress with. Each week I make a schedule of appointments so that I can meet with each of my clients at least once per week. Each day I make appointment reminder notes for those who are scheduled and place them on their beds. Residents are allowed to enter the shelter’s campus at 5:00 PM, so I meet with clients between 5:00 and 9:00 PM. Typically I have between 15 and 20 clients that I am working with and try to meet with each once per week. After reviewing my schedule for the evening, I review each client’s Individualized Development Plan. Upon entering the AOC, an extensive interview, also called a Personal Needs Assessment (PNA), is conducted with each resident. The purpose of the PNA is to determine the needs of each individual in order to create an Individualized Development plan to address each of those needs. In addition to asking the client about their healthcare, health status, income, education, and more, I also incorporate their own desires and goals through a goal setting worksheet–what is it that they want to accomplish during their time at the AOC? After I have all of this information, I create a general outlined plan with the obstacles and solutions that will hopefully help them exit homelessness. Before each appointment, I look at their plan and my notes from last appointment to remind myself of what sorts of things we had agreed they should work on this week and if there were any resources I should prepare before their appointment. The bulk of my afternoon is spent planning for these appointment—calling different service organizations, printing out information packets or apartment listings, and thinking about the best way to broach difficult subjects such as anger issues, substance use disorders, mental health issues, and past felonies with my clients. In the evening I meet with clients, check in on their progress, and write down what we discussed in their chart. At 9:00 PM I head home and try to wind down and get some sleep before the next day of work. Click here to read more from Audrey! Written Monday, Feb. 5, 2017 // Escrito el lunes 5 de feb.
I’ve been searching for the words and motivation and energy to look inward and write something meaningful to share with you. But in reality, throughout this search for motivation, I’ve been feeling rather weak lately. // He estado buscando las palabras y la motivación y la energía de mirar hacia adentro en mi interior y escribir algo significativo para compartir con ustedes. Pero en realidad, a través de esta búsqueda de motivación, recientemente me sentía bastante débil. \\ This morning (Monday), Pastor Chad via ZOE Church podcast shared some motivation I needed to hear from yesterday’s sermon – “It Could Happen Today”. // Esta mañana (el lunes), el Pastor Chad de la iglesia ZOE compartió una motivación que necesité escuchar en el sermón de ayer: “Podría pasar hoy”. \\ Well, what happened today? // ¿Pues, que pasó hoy? Today, was our first community day of the month, which is guided by our supervisor Luke. However unfortunately, I wasn’t able to be very present. I wallowed in frustration and tears of being so tired of feeling sick and not being able to give 100% of my energy to my community and work placement. I returned to the urgent care clinic for the second time in about 2 and half weeks, with a few good and almost-recovered days in between until new symptoms of a likely sinus infection quickly arose over the weekend. // Hoy fue nuestro primer día de la comunidad del mes, que está guiado de nuestro supervisor Luke. Sin embargo y desafortunadamente, no pude estar muy presente. Me sumía en la frustración y lágrimas de estar tan cansada de sentirme mal y no poder dar el 100% de mi energía a mi comunidad y mi lujar de servicio. Volví a la clínica de atención urgente por la segunda vez en aproximadamente 2 y media semanas, con algunos días buenos y casi recuperada en medio, hasta que los nuevos síntomas de una posible infección sinusal llegó durante el fin de semana. \\ Post-Dr. visit, we all gathered to brainstorm some reflection ideas as us YAV’s have been given the opportunity to speak during the sermon next Sunday at the local Second Presbyterian Church. Upon reading Mark 9:2-9 about the transfiguration on the mountain top, we searched ourselves for our own moments of transformation, either within oneself or something we’ve witnessed outside of ourselves, like within our new communities. // Después de la visita de la clínica, todas nos juntamos para compartir algunas ideas de reflexión porque nosotras YAV’s tenemos la oportunidad de hablar y presentarnos en el sermón el próximo domingo en la Segunda Iglesia Presbiteriana. Después de leer Marcos 9:2-9, sobre la transfiguración en la cima de la montaña, buscaamos nuestras propias momentos de tranformación, dentro de una misma o algo que hemos presenciado fuera de nosotras mismas, como dentro de nuestras comunidades nuevas. My fuzzy and congested-minded self was really struggling to look farther beyond the past month of being back here in Albuquerque, trying to find moments of transformation year-wide, when I felt lack of transformational-movement in those recurring, but yet spirit-filled (and yet very unfulfilled) resolutions, hopes and goals of this New Year. // Mi mente borroso y llena de congestión estaba luchando por mirar más allá del último mes de estar aquí en Albuquerque, desde regresé. Estaba tratando de encontrar los momentos de transformación durante todo el año, cuando en realidad yo sentí la falta del movimiento transformacional entre mis resoluciones del Año Nuevo, algunos que están repitiendo, pero aún llenos de espíritu (y aún todavía vacios y no cumplidos) de mis resoluciones, esperanzas y metas del año. \\ The words of Pastor Chad, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. That is true for my life and yours – our spirit wants to do this, but our flesh is lulled to sleep…” (and while being sick, I assure you, I’ve been very lulled to sleep a lot lately… // Las palabras de Pastor Chad, “El espíritu está dispuesto, pero la carne está débil. Eso es cierto para mi vida y la tuya – nuestro espíritu quiere hacer esto, pero nuestra carne está arrullada para dormir…” (and durante el tiempo que he estado enferma, te lo aseguro que he sentido el llamado de dormir mucho últimamente… \\ But I’ve been searching myself for motivation and energy, despite this time of waiting and being in an extended delay to recover – Pastor Chad prompts this question: ‘How to combat the dull of delay, falling asleep, or feeling bored… How to instead be comforted, convicted, lead and guided – and AWAKE on this earth – to not get dulled in the delay?’ // Pero estaba buscando yo misma la motivación y la energía, a pesar de este tiempo de espera y de estar en un retraso prolongado para recuperarme – El Pastor Chad me lleva esta pregunta: ‘¿Cómo combatir el aburrimiento de la demora, quedarse dormido o sentirse aburrido… ¿cómo ser consolado, convencido, y guiado – y DESPIERTO en esta tierra – para no embotarse en el retraso? \\ Three of Pastor Chad’s seven points caught my attention in how to handle delays: // Tres de los sieta puntos del Pastor Chad que me llamaron la atención en como aguantar los retrasos: \\ {Rejoice Always // Regocijarse siempre} This morning in my wallowing, it felt as if I was failing to see the bright-side, the God-sent moments, and the people rejoicing alongside me through their comforting hugs. Not only do I have plenty of things to rejoice in, I’m especially joyful in the moments of compassion that filled the rest of my day – like the kindness and timeliness of the doctor, the arms of Ann and my fellow housemates, the words from family, and the phone call from my boss and pastor Guillermo, as he reached me to see how I was doing, in perfect timing before I had the opportunity to reach out to him. // Esta mañana, mientras me sumía en como sentía, lo sentió así que no fuera capaz de ver el lado positivo, los momentos enviado de Dios, y la gente que se regocijó a mi lado a través de sus abrazos reconfortantes. No solo tengo muchas cosas para alegrarme, sino que estoy especialmente feliz en los momentos de compasión que llenaron el resto del día, como la bondad y la puntualidad del médica, los brazos y abrazos de Ann y mis compañeras de casa, las palabras de mi familia, y la llamada de mi jefe y pastor Guillermo, cuando me llamó para ver cómo yo estaba, en el momento perfecto antes de que tuve la oportunidad de comunicarme con él. \\ {Pray without Ceasing // Orar sin cesar} This phone call ended with a strong prayer for rest, healing, and recovery, which I felt deeply in my soul, and prayed that my body will decide to listen too! And by evening, I smiled at the seemingly simple text of “Thinking of you and praying for you!” from Ms. Gini, which represented something so much more – I can’t help but feel that sometimes the portion of praying ‘without ceasing’ amidst handling delays, is sometimes best felt and heard when you know without a doubt that others are interceding on your behalf, when sometimes you’re still searching for motivation… // Esta llamada terminó con una oración fuerte por el descanso, la curación, y la recuperación, que sentí profundamente en mi alma, y oré que mi cuerpo decidirá escuchar también! Y por la noche, sonreí al texto simple que dice “Pensando en ti y orando por ti!” de la Rev. Gini, que representaba mucho más – No puedo evitar sentir que a veces la parte de orar ‘sin cesar’ en medio de aguantar los retrasos, es que a veces se siente y escucha lo mejor cuando sabe sin duda que otros están intercediendo en tu nombre, cuando a veces solo está buscando la motivación… \\ {In everything, Give thanks! You cannot get prepared for the thing God has for you with a complaining spirit… I THANK YOU FOR ‘BEING UNDER CONSTRUCTION! // En todo, da gracias! No puede prepararse para lo que Dios tiene para usted con un espíritu quejoso… DOY GRACIAS POR ‘ESTAR EN CONSTRUCCIÓN!} I want this point to speak for it’s self… It’s been crappy feeling bad, but I don’t want to do it with a complaining spirit, and I truly am grateful for each person and God-sent along the way! // Quiero que este punto hable por sí mismo… Ha sido horrible sentirme mal, pero no quiero hacerlo con un espíritu quejoso, and realmente estoy agradecida por cada persona y cosa enviado de Dios en este camino. \\ And I look forward to sharing my own reflection on Mark 9:2-9, after service next week, because while today’s brainstorm session was challenging – I AM CONFIDENT I can see beyond this month and into those moments of transformation I’ve felt during the past half-year of service! // Estoy emocionada de compartir mi propia reflexión sobre Marcus 9:2-9 y mi experiencia, después del servicio la próxima semana, porque a pesar de hoy fue desafiante – ESTOY SEGURA que puedo ver más allá de este mes y en los momentos de transformación que he sentido durante el último medio año de servicio. \\ Prayers appreciated, as always! // Estaré agradecida por las oraciones, como siempre! Claire Click here to read more from Claire. Intentional community is one of the core tenants of the YAV program. During the first week of orientation, we were given this description for what it might look like and what it might mean to live intentionally with the other YAVs at our sites:
YAVs explore what it means to be a Christian community with one another and their neighbors. While some will live in housing together and others spread throughout their country, all YAVs will reflect together on their service and explore their relationship with God, the church, and their ministry in a broken world. On November 3rd, we started our week-long border delegation to Tucson, Arizona and Agua Prieta, México to learn about the realities of broken and oppressive systems in the shadow of the physical border than exists between the United States and Mexico. On the first night of the trip, the ABQ YAVs stayed at an intentional community called Sitting Tree in Tucson, Arizona. Co-founded by Rick Ufford-Chase, one of the orientation leaders that led our bible studies at Stony Point in August, Sitting Tree is an intentional community made up of a diverse population of families that have committed to living, struggling, and sharing together. While each family has their own living space or apartment, the community as a whole shares a meal each week and meets twice a month to coordinate issues that come up regarding common spaces, budgeting, etc… as they live in such close proximity. I continue to be amazed at the incredible love, awareness, and sense of solidarity that I felt during our one night stay with these families. Below is a reflection that I wrote surrounding these feelings while the families were getting ready to share a meal together: Sitting at the picnic table that overlooks the common yard at Sitting Tree, I feel like this place is the intersection of so many places I’ve been and of so many people I’ve met. Maybe it’s not where I’m supposed to be next or what I’m supposed to do next, but who I’m supposed to meet and love and learn from next. That makes the most sense of anything to me. Strung up lights, reverse osmosis water, line-dried clothes, the smell of community dinner on the stove. It’s humble, but enough. It’s a little chaotic, but restful and at peace. I sit in this place and I jump back and forth in my mind to the conversations and places and people who have ultimately led me here – right here. I think about organic hospitality and the conversations I had with Chuck Bailey and Craig Cera at Wednesday night bible study. Pienso en Don Juan y nuestras conversaciones sobre las maneras que vemos a Dios y el temor que la gente tiene para el uno del otro. I think about cul-de-sacs and the ways in which Rick Ufford-Chase challenged my perspectives. Pienso en Doña Marta y el descubrimiento del tigre del hambre y de la humildad. I think about the sense of strength and resilience and joy that I felt during the “Thanksgiving dinner” that I ate with my family in August before I left for this year of transformation. I don’t know much about this space or much about the people who live here, but I know that it is a sacred space. And that God is very close here. I thank God for the intentional community that I have here in Albuquerque, New Mexico this year. For a community with whom I can sit and grieve and figure out my privilege and my complacency and my hopes for this world. To quote Tucson YAV Leah Bishop, “It is so life-giving to be surrounded by people who are willing to and want to challenge white supremacy and all the related systems.” I hope and pray that I will seek out people, instead of places or jobs, who I can learn and love and grow from next. Read more from Taylor on her blog. |
