a momentous decade

well, the decade is leaving us.

in the year two thousand, i graduated sixth grade from Manchester GATE. I learned to be compassionate to people being bullied through the guilt of not being punished. There was a strained trip to New York and DC in there too.

in the year two thousand and one, my dad disappeared on NYE after cutting the zero in half to become a one in the jello mold. he said something about a dog...

in 2002, i graduated Computech. having rode the bus with Gillian Lynn for the past two years. best friendship cemented. for life. (other CT highlights: drama with McA, learning German, science 9).

same year at Roosevelt: i starred in a play that was another way my life could have been. i saw a counselor we derisively called Yoda. K ate ly n B owe n and I thought that Travis as Curly was the most exciting beautiful role there ever could be. McKenna.

2003, logan grew taller than me, and we mimed an incredible sword fight in theatre movements. i started water polo, went to camp, cried my way through a wedding, and thoroughly hated physics. christmas and new years. also did props for Anything Goes. caught a boy named josh's eye.

2004, probably the worst year of my life. did the YL thing. also: enjoyed crewing Footlight Frenzy

2005, seven brides set: designed. hush lights: designed. appt with death set: designed. awful push-ups. fricken koch. quit theatre (according to my mama)

2006: right around NYE got with Stu. found some outside happiness, peace, adventures. began to believe i was worthy of being loved. hey thats cool. stopped the theatre thing. won a medal or two for AD finally. drove my mom mad. went far away to Whitworth. flew home monthly. was loved.

2007: african life and culture. did the heart break thing. kept going to classes. didn't find whitworth as different as expected. tried to save people who didn't want to be saved.

2008: went to Vancouver, met a MUN family. worst dating decision ever. no self-esteem/respect. made confession in a parking lot, learned i wasn't the only one like me around. Houseless Challenge. initial interning at FIRM. one great Global Hearth semeter.

2009: little moment by a river side. hopped on a plane to South Africa. Lived. felt broken. drank. lived more. roadtrips, beautiful places. learned about friendships. and loved me some grade 7 students. came home. More FIRM support and loving. started my last cynical Whitworth year. Saw a tall boy striding across the Hello Walk. attempted seduction to said almost oblivious Finnish boy for a good semester. lived with my MUN family. was grateful. took 3 beautiful intl students home with me.

2010: Jouni. Jouni. jouni. california. drove. beauty. peace. calm. spokane. crazy busy. learned to communicate in a beautiful friendship. went to church and listened, cried. graduated! loved FIRM some more. best wedding in Texas. went to Europe. realized with perfect clarity that boy and I were not for one another. lived and loved in this Fresno place. Moved to Toronto. lived and loved in Romero House. at Christmas, began plotting my grand return home to my roots. my fourteen-year-old inner self's dreams came true. my 22 year old self was damn pleased, and happy to be a free independent competent woman.

good decade all in all.

i'm glad to be here.

Dignity. and receiving gifts gracefully.

Today I went with a woman to a food bank. because November is hard, and so is having many children. Tonight, she took me to get a haircut, because my hair has looked unkempt and overgrown since about June. She would not let me pay. She told me very strictly. No, I budget my money. This is the money I spend on my kids, this is the money my husband gets for the month, this is food money, this is my money. I am spending my money for you. I want to give you beautiful hair. (and then we joked that after beautiful hair comes beautiful boyfriend, so I guess we'll see how that works out)

...

I am so humbled.

...

I have so little to worry about (it seems), and I still can't find time to spend $20 on a haircut. I am too busy to care usually. My friend, my sister, my mama, walked me to the mall, introduced me to her friend, and flipped through magazines until we found the perfect cut for my head. She nodded approvingly and loudly praised the hairdresser, and I walked out with beautiful hair. We spent all of an hour gone, and now I look so much better.

...

I tried to sneak money into her pocket, but I think I really offended my friend. I wanted her to spend money on her kids (to whom she is a fantastic mother). She said NO! no christine. this is my money, not yours.

...

I am so loved. and so blessed. and tonight, so humbled.

(and I have great new hair)

Am I crazy for understanding racism?

The two sides as I see it:

1. Unilateral Condemnation of any racist words and/or actions

• because if we tolerate racism, everything we stand for (as romero house) comes into question
• because our society is so perfect and racism free, and we all live in Canada now
• because we are secure enough in our identity, social standing, and future we don't need to hide behind racist attitudes
• because its "wrong"

2. Entering into dialogue and trying to understand it.

• because I don't come from the same country as either of the people in question
• because stereotypes are rooted in some form of truth, and then unfairly universally applied - conversely, if someone only steals sometimes, is that the same as only beating you some of the time??
• because people believe their beliefs are True. That's why they believe them.
• because I think that "unilateral intolerance of racism" is a cultural value that is learned over time when you are secure in your own place in society.
• because I don't think I can say "you are wrong" to someone's life experience as they know it to be true. I think I can say "I don't think that's always true". but thats not quite as strong...
• because everyone's a little bit racist some times. and racism is normal to every society.
• because racism and oppression drain life from the oppressor as well as the oppressed

Thoughts for Interns

I am an intern at Romero House, a community of refugee claimants and interns, which is at the heart of a greater Romero Community of our supporters, former residents, drop-ins, volunteers, neighbors, advocates and more. We have finished our third full week in the office, and already we find ourselves exhausted. Yet today, at our liturgy, I found myself crying from the sheer amount of blessedness I felt surrounded by (grammar is apparently directly related to the amount of rest one gets in life).

So here are my thoughts, on encouragement, guilt, and relying.

we must encourage one another. What's more, we must rely on one another. We must assume the best in one another, and also assume that we are all trying our best. We must rely on the good in each of the residents. These are not "ours", nor do we need to be their best friend. We must walk with them. We point them in the right direction, and entrust them to the care of someone else more skilled that we. Like the Samaritan, who left the wounded man in an inn, promising to cover the difference of the cost of care, we don't have to continue pouring our oil and wine into the deep wounds that a refugee bears. We love our neighbor, and then we continue on our journey.

we are friends? we are more and less and different. we are a community. we love and uplift and support one another. we don't need gossip or dissension amongst us. we are here for the somewhat long-run. we are here for 11 months.

next topic. guilt.

we are insufficient. we are not trained professionals. we have learned about basic issues in school, we have studied, and read books, and volunteered in the community. we are not trained social workers, we are not psychologists, we are not lawyers. we are "companions". "settlement workers". every thing that we do is insufficient. we are not the best. we are who is present. we trust in God's grace to provide, and to cover our insufficiencies. we must not allow ourselves to feel guilty for not putting in an hour here, or an hour there, for not starting another task at 10pm on a Saturday night. To feel guilty implies that we could do better. that we are individually capable of doing everything in our insanely huge job descriptions. to claim guilt is to imply that perfection is possible. we are guilty every second of every day, which is why we must claim grace. grace that covers all short-comings.

we must be able to find joy in what we are doing. we must be able to claim that it brings us life to be concerned about what the father is about. we must find aspects of each day that bring us life. that draw us closer to who we have been called to be. yes?

in a new place

I am starting over, in the big ways,

in the deepest ways, I feel steady.

I am here, all of me, has moved to Toronto.

I will become more Me as I growlearnlivelove Here at Romero House.

I am excited. I am tired. I am willing.

I find myself here. (statement and self-fulfilling prophecy I think)

. . .

still think about this Erik boy when my brain slows. praying for AF, KB, KH, SH, R? and AA. praying with? praying over? sending prayers towards? praying and slowly breathing and living in the present as respectfully as I can.

at least those songs have left my head.

. . .

it is time to sleep. in the morning we will go canoeing. and I will pray I find peace on the water.

a few quotes of the day courtesy of Father Jack.

"Love is the ultimate gravity"

"Peter? get your ass off that boat and walk towards me."

"this is my community. This is my community??. THIS is my COMMUNITY?!?!?! you know, when Jesus was dying on the cross, I don't think it was very enjoyable, but he was willing and he followed what the Father wanted"

any one have any thoughts on becoming better at both humility and greatness?

the balance between being Good at something (knowing it), and not being proud?

on running continuously (thriving?) and that crash-and-burn that seems to always follow?

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I feel like I am learning slowly how to be really good at volunteer coordination, at being excited to see everyone, at listening to what needs to be done, and finding delicate ways to talk to the right person about it all, at laughing at most things (although sometimes kicking the kids out of FIRM when they come too early, and in Jaret's words, spoiling all the fun)
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I love what I get to do here. I love the opportunities I am graciously given, and the people I get to listen to, and interact with. I LOVE the kids. I love the chaos and the balance that we always return to.
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I did however (between writing those top 2 paragraphs and now) catch myself some Strep Throat that has been kinda nasty to my poor body, even after sleeping all weekend and taking anti-biotics and being good.
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I feel like there are two ways my life could go forward from here.
One is very international
The other is very local
Its not a new struggle, or a profound realization. It feels like the simple truth.
I am qualified to work abroad. I am interested in living in new places, discovering new beautiful things to love. (sidenote: watch the History Boys. sidenote: in Howard's End, the higher class of people who have discovered the word "I", instead of just "want that car" "need that house" "want your money" contrast with the masculinity of "I" according to Virginia Woolf. sorry. that's the English-literature side of me coming out)
I could even feel called to work abroad. I like international people a lot (the sorts of people who have seen the world beyond their ordinary sphere). I have the resume. I have "cross-cultural competancies". I have the degree. I would love to study more, and use my brain, and get more degrees.
I'm moving to fricken Canada next year. I loved being in the Netherlands. It would be so cool to work in an international organization like the characters in the stories I wrote this year for Laurie. I dream about that kind of a life.
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and I love Fresno. this little corner of the world where nothing would be guarenteed for me. When I was looking for jobs at Whitworth, before I graduated, I couldn't find anything. At All. Now that I'm here, I hear rumors of this, get e-mails about that, see grants into which I could write myself a job. And they wouldn't be very much money. And there is nothing permanent, really. nothing glamorous or glorious. But so so Good.
and the summer sunsets color the whole sky pink. What more could there be to life?
these Hmong babies steal my heart in the first second I walk onto FIRM campus.
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here I would be one more person who didn't live up to her potential. and I dunno if I'd go to more school. and I dunno who I would end up with. I can see myself as one of those obese nonprofit ladies who almost nag, and spend all their days working, to go home to an empty house.
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Beware the False Dichotomies (and avoid the all or nothings).
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I dunno exactly what shade of gray my life will turn out being colored.