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.
On 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.
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.
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.
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?”
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.
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.