06.07.09
Posted in AV 2008-09 Domestic at 10:24 am by Ndudzinski
I have told my parents that my past 9 months as an Augustinian Volunteer in San Diego and Tijuana have taught me more than my combined four years of college. Maybe that’s a testament to my study habits of short-term memorization or a realization that the real world teaches in a very different and quick-impacting way. There is so much to be learned from books, studying, and classrooms but there is no comparison to going out into the world and just doing. My time as a volunteer has been more educational than I ever anticipated. I have had many teachers over the last few months - the children and employees at the orphanage, the workers, volunteers, and clients at the food resource center, the Augustinian friars, past and present volunteers, and especially my community members. All have helped open my eyes to a new experience and have shown me that I never stop learning.
When people ask me what exactly is my job as a volunteer I respond, “I work at an orphanage and a food resource center.” They then typically ask a bunch of questions about the orphanage, the children, and my involvement there. Looking back on it, I don’t think more than a handful of people have ever asked me to explain more about the food resource center. The word ‘orphanage’ has a way to capture the heart of those who hear it, and evoke the images and thoughts of children. For me, after this year, the word ‘orphanage’ will always have faces and names attached. It was my first time at an orphanage, hopefully not my last, and it has changed, strengthened, and especially educated me. It is one of the most incredible and amazing places I have ever visited, but the word ‘orphanage’ helps do its own marketing.
The Catholic Charities Mid-City Center, also known as the Food Resource Center, is an unbelievable program. It took a few days to actually comprehend that people can come in and get free food with no strings attached. In my college years, I spent a small amount of time at a food pantry, rolled out of bed at the ungodly college hour of 7am and with a few friends walked down to the church where the distribution was based. Little did I know those few Saturdays were a small taste of the post-college year to come. Every Tuesday and Thursday I slip on my closed toed shoes and head over to the Mid-City Center. The center itself is located in a strip of stores, right next to African Hair Braiding and Day Springs Christian Fellowship. I park my car, say good morning to the clients already waiting in line outside, and head inside to start the morning with Robby, the Catholic Charities employee at the Mid-City Center.
From the time when I started working at the Food Resource Center to now, the increase in individuals and families served has increased exponentially. We serve over a thousand people each month, and the center is only open Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays! With each new client, I have a memorized little explanation that I say to them to quickly try and summarize the way the program works, “The way the program here works, you can receive the donated food eight times for one year, starting today, (insert today’s date) until (insert date one year from today). However, you have to wait at least two weeks in between each visit that you come here. We also have available today, this month’s commodity’s which are government-given food. Commodities are a pre-packaged bag of about 7 to 9 goods/cans that change each month. You can receive the commodities once a month, for however many months you need it. Any questions?” This explanation includes many hand gestures, which unfortunately cannot be conveyed through this blog, and can also be given in Spanish. It also has been printed out through an online translator to be shown in Vietnamese, Russian, Arabic, and any other language need that walks through our doors.
Although there is a comforting familiarity with each day that comes and goes at the Food Resource Center, each day offers its own surprises. I have been barked at by a client, helped a lady in the middle of breast-feeding her baby, and there have even been a few clients who have brought me food – a slab of raw filet mignon happened to be one item, go figure! But the people who work and come to the center are what make each day special. The majority of clients are incredibly grateful for the assistance and it is a blessing to be able to be involved with such an incredible place, its people, and volunteers. Looking back nine months ago when my original placement of Catholic Charities Refugee Services was changed to the Food Resource Center, little did I know a small place in Mid-City would make such a big impact on me.
Nicole M. Dudzinski
San Diego ‘08-’09
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06.02.09
Posted in Friends of the AVs at 10:08 am by joe quinn
Hi Katie- I loved your blog!!!!
we are very proud of you…have a wonderful time…and when you get home, please teach us all how to DANCE!!! (i mean it!)
Permalink
05.28.09
Posted in AV 2008-09 Domestic at 9:21 pm by hannah kunberger
I have purchased exactly one book during my time as a volunteer and it was a complete impulse buy. Characterized by the author as “Nonreligious Thoughts on Christian Spirituality,” Blue Like Jazz (Donald Miller) is something I would not ordinarily read, much less spend precious stipend on. But for whatever reason, I picked it off the shelves of Barnes and Noble on a lazy Saturday afternoon in February. It was the forward that caught me:
“I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn’t resolve. But I was outside the Baghdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes. After that I liked jazz music. Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way. I used to not like God because God didn’t resolve. But that was before any of this happened.”
Maybe it is my own romantic vision of the devoted saxophone player or perhaps just Miller’s straightforward language, but I am stuck on this little excerpt. The words seem to find their way into emails, phone conversations, discussions with students, and just last week, even a staff meeting. And I am discovering, as these same words find their home in this blog entry, that they are really the only way I can think of to make sense of the multitude of diverse experiences that continue to shape this year.
As the Service Coordinator in Campus Ministry at Merrimack College in nearby North Andover, I often find myself split between two worlds: that of a private college in an upper-middle class suburb of Boston and that of my home in Lawrence, a small immigrant city battling the most extensive poverty in the state. I may begin the day reading emails in my comfortable office in Andover and end serving my next-door neighbor at a soup kitchen back in Lawrence. In that four mile transition between work and home, everything seems to change. Because of sheer circumstance, I am in the somewhat unique and unbelievably fortunate position of encountering quite a diversity of people; individuals with vastly different stories, life experiences, relationships with others and relationships with God. There are some with whom I walk daily and others whose paths I’ve crossed only momentarily, but the totaling effect of all of these relationships has been nothing short of life changing.
One of the many people who color my daily life is my boss, a Sister of Notre Dame from Chicago. Short staffed from the beginning, accomplishing the many and varied tasks of campus ministry has required quite a bit of collaboration. However, lunch conversations about service trips, retreats and liturgies frequently give way to discussions of faith, politics, the church, life. She is a model of faith and her example challenges me to grow, to think, to push beyond complacency and to love.
As part of my responsibilities in Campus Ministry, I travelled with a group of students to Selma, Alabama for a week of service last March. This is how I met Dave, the founder of our partner organization Black Belt and Central Alabama Housing. An African American man born in Selma, he marched across the Edmund Pettus Bridge with Dr. Martin Luther King just 44 years ago. Dave, who, by his own estimation once could have been killed for hosting a group of white students, welcomed our group with open arms. An individual of unbelievable generosity and kindness, he looks daily into the helpless face of rural poverty and racism and responds with love, working tirelessly to ease the burdens of his neighbors. I spent one week with Dave, but his impact was profound.
Of course no one has inhabited my everyday life quite like my community. From the beginning, John Henry, Agustin, Rebekah and I have been warned that we are all “very different.” However, what was once a source of anxiety has become (at least in my estimation) our greatest strength. Although it has taken all of us time to find our footing, it has been wonderful to watch each of them carve their own path, learning how to give their students what they need in a style that is uniquely theirs. And in those rare moments, when I am able to see things through their eyes, I find myself falling in love with world again and in turn, in love with God.
Unlike Donald Miller, I am not sure that I have ever disliked God, but I have certainly lost site of God. And because of this I am forever indebted to those who, in their grand gestures and small kindnesses, continue to show me the way.
Hannah Kunberger
Lawrence, MA
2008-2009
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05.24.09
Posted in AV 2009 International at 11:50 am by Alexa Levy
One of the last pieces of advice I received before boarding our South African Airways flight was in the form of a text message from someone that I love very much. It read, “Remember to dance.”
Dance? Everyone knows that I, Katie Porter, do not dance. So why would a year in KZN, South Africa change that? I’m here to serve, to teach, to learn. But certainly not to dance. Dancing makes me uncomfortable – it involves emotion, courage, being free in spirit, outwardly showing happiness. However, a lesson that I am still learning through my years of service is that the only way to grow is to become uncomfortable. I guess if I can serve here, I can try to dance.
Rhythmically usually to music, using prescribed or improvised steps and gestures.
At St. Leo Primary School in Molweni, each morning begins with prayer in the form of singing and dancing. The entire school lines up under the morning sun in their teal uniforms, ready to praise. Most are sung in Zulu – but there is one in both Zulu and English. They sing, “Come down my Lord, Come Down my Lord, my Lord is coming all the time.” They move effortlessly to the rhythm – in sync with one another. Grades R (kindergarten) through 7 join in with bright smiles and deep faith. In class sometimes a learner catches me humming the morning’s tune and laughs. Humming may be the first step toward dancing.
To engage in or perform (a dance).
We were invited to family day at St. Theresa’s Home for Boys. It was a tricky concept to me because I was unsure of each boy’s situation – who exactly were their families? Were their parents alive? If so why were they not living with them?
At St. Theresa’s, dancing on stage is a way in which the boys show off their talent when family members come to visit. It is how they relax in the afternoons, display a natural talent, express themselves without judgement.
One thing that is essential is to engage with these boys in our afternoons at St. Theresa’s. I have Cottage 1 and 2 – the oldest boys at the home, anywhere from 12 to 18. There are two brothers there that I have befriended – Sifiso and Manqoba. At family day they, along with their brother Siyabonga, introduced me to their Auntie. Manqoba told her I needed a Zulu name. She looked at me intently and said “Thandeka” – meaning lovable. Now that I am Thandeka, maybe I can eventually dance like a real Zulu.
A series of motions. Jumps, balances, and turns
Currently Alex and I are teaching verbs to grade 5. I ask the learners to list action words on the board: run, jump, cook, make, wash, clean, do, and always dance. To add some fun to the lesson we ask everyone to stand up and one by one shout out the verbs so that they can act them out.
Minds don’t always dance in the library at St Leo’s. The language barrier makes the simplest tasks difficult. Sometimes I am not sure if anything is being learned or accomplished. Other times I am pleasantly surprised. No matter what - if I say “dansa!” my learners know exactly what I mean and how to put their bodies in motion.
My learners have to balance many struggles in daily life as well as face unsettling turns. I never know what goes on when they leave St. Leo’s. Some will not eat again until they get to school the next morning. Many are orphaned or sick themselves. My life-loving children have to grow up too fast. In the midst of great sadness, they manage to dance without hesitation.
Tradition, performed at a range of social and religious occasions
Funerals are what people in townships do on the weekends. HIV/AIDS has completely ravaged these Zulu communities – taking away pivotal members of every generation. So far I have attended two funerals – Bhekemuzi (46) and Nonduduzo (25). There, the community celebrates life through dance. Dancing and singing at a funeral is both a cry for help to God and a chance to celebrate the life of the deceased.
I have always felt awkward surrounded by a crowds of dancing people. Being the only white people at a funeral or a Zulu mass puts extra pressure on you when everyone is dancing. I am forced to push through my awkwardness and embrace the movement. Dancing eases the devastating reality of the situation. I don’t totally let loose, but clapping and swaying must be a step in the right direction.
Flexibility, strength, endurance, co-ordination, dexterity
The view from our balcony is breathtaking – overlooking the Valley of a Thousand hills sprinkled with the roads and huts of Embo (66% HIV positive). The truth that it displays is heartbreaking and aggravating. South Africa contains two worlds – poor black and wealthy white. The people I serve have to be strong and flexible in order to make a life out of this injustice.
I personally feel weak and inflexible trying to find my place in this confusing existence. The beauty and tragedy of South Africa makes my mind continuously twirl, listening for some kind of harmony. When it comes to the post Apartheid history and the socio-economic realities of this country – I am merely stretching, hardly ready to dance.
Dancing implies a restlessness of the body
A restless body also means possessing a restless mind and a restless heart. As a second year Augustinian Volunteer – I am constantly realizing why I ended up here. Restlessness is what drives me to make myself uncomfortable. Most of my restlessness is in my heart and my mind at the moment – but all the beautiful music and voices of South Africa may allow it to travel to my feet.
Maybe the person who gave me that advice knew something about this experience that I did not; knew something that lies within me that I am not fully aware of. Dancing is freedom and life which is too often lost here in South Africa. Even on days where nothing else makes sense, dancing always does.
I have until December to get used to the idea of letting go of my fear of dancing. I won’t be Zulu kicking anytime soon. But I will certainly try to find joy in movement and power in my emotions. Come December when I leave, I won’t have to tell the people of South Africa to “khumbula ukudansa.” They already know.
Katie Porter
South Africa 2009
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05.13.09
Posted in AV 2008-09 Domestic at 6:45 pm by splhughes
“Mr. Hughes, can you tie my shoes?”
This question is asked like clockwork every recess at St. Pat’s Elementary. Isabella, a raspy-voiced wide-eyed Kindergartner has sneakers whose shoelaces are perpetually out of sync. Everyday, as I kneel to the ground to tie her sneakers, I say the same thing to the bright 6 year-old, “Isabella, I am going to bring glue to school and glue your shoelaces together one of these days.” Isabella laughs her mandatory giggle and runs off after the red ball with which she was previously playing. As she runs away, a faint “Thank You” can be heard from across the schoolyard. I watch as she sprints towards the ball with her newly knotted sneakers, tied as tight as they can go, only knowing that at lunchtime she will look down at her shoelaces and see that they are once again untied.
My year as a P.E. and Computer teacher resembles that of Isabella’s remarkable shoelaces. There are students that continually challenge and show disrespect towards me, thinking of me as only a “volunteer” and not a “real teacher”. But like any rogue shoelace, a tightly bound knot can be created; it only requires a little hard work, determination, and optimism.
I walked into St. Pat’s on my first day hearing famed stories of marvelous P.E. instructors before me, “Ms. Penza was the best”, “Mr. R always played fun games”, or “You will never be as good as Mr. C, he was the best P.E. teacher ever.” Expectations were high for a fun-filled, amazing, knock your socks off kind of year. So I laced up my sneakers, tied them tight, and began my yearlong career as a teacher thinking to myself, “Everyone will love Mr. Hughes, he’s a cool guy.”
Probably halfway through my first day, I realized that being the “cool guy” was impossible. I assumed students would respect me as a teacher, and quickly learned that “volunteer” and “teacher” are two separate words that are in no way equivalent. A teacher could be in a room full of energetic talkative seventh graders and any outsider would be able to hear a pin drop or a cricket chirp. If an outsider observed that same seventh grade class with a volunteer in charge, he would find a a very different and more rowdy classroom.
It goes without saying that even though I prepared unique games to play, tried to crack jokes with the older kids, and was enthusiastic about my day, the students would test me and I struggled to be the teacher (or “volunteer”) I dreamed of being. Students continued to say something mean under their breath, show disrespect, and see how poor they could act before I started issuing detentions. Each workday became more and more tiring, and I thought by October I would collapse from mere exhaustion. I tied my shoes tight every morning, but by dismissal they just couldn’t stay tied.
What was I to do? I was supposed to love my work, love the students, and love the school. Yet, in the beginning each day led me further from that ideal. So I stopped and evaluated that state of my shoelaces. They were like any other shoelaces and could be tied like any other pair of shoelaces. Yet, it was up to me to keep them tied; to be the best teacher I could be without letting the kids step on them causing me to trip. Instead of letting the negative overwhelm my classes (and as a pessimist this became a bit challenging), I began to focus on the positive - the simple smile from a third grader who had fun during class, the excited look from a sixth grader who learned something new in a Computer lesson, or the Kindergartner who always trusted the same person to tie her shoes each day.
Therefore, everyday I walk into St. Pat’s with a rejuvenated enthusiasm. In the morning, I tie my shoelaces tight, sometimes double or triple knotting them to make sure they don’t come undone and are able to take on the sure-to-be tiring day. As different classes come and go, some kids step on my laces and argue with a kickball call or complain about the boring game we happened to be playing that day. But with each negative action, there is always a positive one to brighten my day. And with this relatively new sense of optimism, my year has become much more fun and fulfilling. I love my job, the students, and the school – it just took a little more work than planned.
So as the lunch bell rings, Isabella approaches me with the same simple request,
“Mr. Hughes, can you tie my shoes?” Little known to her, the appreciation she shows for this effortless task helps me keep my sneakers tied as well, allowing me to face the difficult world of teaching with eagerness, happiness, and passion.
-Stephen Hughes
San Diego 08-09
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05.05.09
Posted in AV 2009 International at 5:24 am by Alexa Levy
South Africa is a place of extremes. Extreme poverty. Pervasive sickness. High crime rates. High unemployment. Despair and sadness are constant companions. They lie in wait, always lurking, waiting for the moment when tragedy strikes or when things go wrong.
But beyond the despair and the tragedy, always present, always strong, fierce, and beautiful, is love. Love is what sustains those whose suffer. Love is what gives people the will to live, to fight. Love keeps despair at bay, and hope alive.
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Never before has this verse from Corinthians resonated so much but here and now, as I am in the middle of a second year volunteering in South Africa. Love, in its infinite forms, is all around, always.
Love is patient for those who lie in beds day after day in the respite unit at the Hillcrest Aids Centre. As they fight off disease and infection, separated from their love ones. As they wait in endless queues in overcrowded hospitals and clinics in order to see a doctor, or collect a prescription. As they take medication with such severe side effects that they will feel sicker for months before they start to heal. This is patience. The will to stay alive, to battle for life, for those you love, and a life you love.
Love is kind when these patients receive treatment and compassion from the respite’s hardworking and vivacious care workers. They alleviate aches and pains. They listen to stories, and ease fears. They comfort and console -their kindness is endless. They treat their patients with respect and love: laugh with them, cry with them, touch them and hold them when others are afraid to. They heal bodies and souls.
Love does not boast or envy for the teachers at St. Leo Primary School. Teachers like Mrs. Themba, Mrs. Maduna, and Miss Mthethwa always go above and beyond for their students. Inquiring about issues at homes, making sure they are healthy and taken care of. They do all this without incentive, without being asked, or paid overtime. They take time away from their own children and families to ensure that their students have what they need. They are loving, caring teachers, who do far more that what their jobs require, and ask for little in return – simply that their students grow up to be healthy and happy.
Love is not rude or self seeking when living in a supportive community. As Augustinian volunteers, Jenn, Katie, and I are committed to living in community. We must always live and make decisions with one another in mind. We share with each other our thoughts, feelings, happy and sad moments alike. We invest in one another and care for one another. We try our best not to be selfish, but to be open and present. When we succeed in doing so, we better understand our experiences here, and become more valuable to the people we serve.
Love is not easily angered and keeps no record of wrongs for the South African citizens who have embraced equality and shunned discrimination in order to work towards a peaceful and united future. Times may be tense and tumultuous now and again, but progress is made everyday. There are many who were once victimized but refuse to be weighed down with anger and resentment. Instead, they embrace positive change and live with hope for tomorrow.
Love always trusts, hopes, and preserves for the children of St. Leo’s and the boys of St. Theresa’s home. They are young and innocent. That is not to say that their lives have not been touched by tragedy, because most of them have endured unimaginable hardships already. The physical and emotional toll is heavy, yet they are still eager, spirited children. Many are able to laugh and play despite their struggles. They are sweet and affectionate; they crave love and attention more that anything, and for that reason, I have a real purpose here. They have hopes and dreams: to be a nurse, a social worker, a businessman, a solider, and a pilot. They are hopeful, energetic, and inspiring individuals.
Thus, although a year of volunteer work in South Africa will inevitably be marked by moments of sadness and despair, what truly shines through is the love and the hope that surfaces in spite of it all.
Alex Levy
South Africa, 2008-2009
Permalink
04.30.09
Posted in AV 2009 International at 4:33 am by kevinkrainz
Huancabamba is one of the most fun words to say that I have ever encountered. It’s actually a Quechua word (the language of the Incas) which means “moving earth” on account of its propensity for mudslides. Pronounced something like Juan-ca-BOMB-a, it’s a village in the Peruvian sierra with about 20,000 people. It’s mostly an agricultural area, but lately a lot of mineral concessions have been granted to large foreign mining companies. I made the trip last Thursday along with one of my comrades from the Office of Justice and Peace. As you can see from the first picture, the ride was phenomenal. You wind through mountain roads and go as high as 3000 meters, then descend to about 1800 and Huancabamba sits in the valley.
Our mission was to attend a meeting at city hall that included the mayor of Huancabamba, the mayor of Carmen de la Frontera (another village affected by the mining) local government officials, and several representatives from groups of Campesinos (essentially farmers, villagers) that live out in the mountains. These representatives are part of groups called Rondas Campesinas, and they’re essentially autonomous law-making and law-enforcing bodies that govern their small communities. Since they live too far from any state police, someone has to keep the peace and make decisions. So in the whole mining deal you essentially have six positions - 1) The villagers who are 99% opposed to mining and are scared to death that the government is just going to give their land away to the mining companies who exploit it and then leave it contaminated (happens quite often); 2) The mining companies and big business men and women of the town who are obviously in favor; 3)Those who are out of work and welcome the mines as a job opportunity; 4) Local government officials who are either in favor or not, depending on their alliances; 5) Federal government officials and police officers who are almost always in favor of the mining, and 6) You have us. We just try to encourage dialogue and keep the peace between groups of people who quite frankly, are up to their ears in fear. The Rondas Campesinas fear the villagers who are in favor of the mining as well as the police, and the government officials on all levels fear an uprising from the Rondas Campesinas. There has been violence between the groups in the past, so often the fear is justified. Nobody trusts anybody outside their small group, really.
What ensued was a three hour meeting that was called to determine whether this group would meet the following day with Yahude Simon, the President of the Counsel of Ministers (essentially the 2nd most powerful man in the Peruvian gov). The meeting was mostly unproductive as everyone followed the general rule of “he who shouts the loudest will be heard”. Finally, two hours into the meeting, my teammate was able to convince everyone that they should attend the meeting, and he presented a format that they could follow. 1) Give the general history of Huancabamba, 2) Present a plan for development based on agriculture, 3) Explain the threats posed by the mining. For a moment everyone put aside their fear and mistrust. At 9pm, they faxed a message to Simon’s office in Lima saying that they’ll be there tomorrow for the 9:30am meeting (a solid 12 hours notice…).
In the morning, we all gathered in the plaza to get ready to drive to the meeting site. Sadly, the whole thing fell apart. Simon’s reps decided not to come because they weren’t given enough notice and rejected several demands that had been made. Each side blamed the other for the failure to meet, and in the end this weekend did little to ease the tension.
Overall, the trip was a great opportunity for me to see the reality of the mining situation. Clearly, agreements and resolutions will not come easy, and like everything here, it’s going to take time, but I feel comfortable with the church’s approach: Encourage dialogue about peaceful solutions, educate about human rights, and most importantly, focus on building community. Our successes this year will undoubtedly seem small and will not be very measurable, which is likely to frustrate me quite a bit. However, as Oscar Romero notes in ”Sowers of Hope”, the kingdom lies far beyond us and it’s important to have faith in the fact that our small successes, combined with those of others, do in fact make a world of difference.
Kevin Krainz
Chulucanas, Peru 2009
Permalink
04.07.09
Posted in AV 2008-09 Domestic at 7:43 am by novamc3
This is roughly the conversation I had with a second grader at St. Patrick’s Elementary while tutoring him after what seemed to be a very long day…
Garrett: We should call you Mr. M because we already had a Mr. C and he was with Mr. Z. Last year we had Ms. P who was very nice….sometimes we played PE with her but, most of the time we were with the boy, he was nice too! You know, we change PE teachers every year but, they are always nice, I really like them.
The day my blog was due (for a second time, thank you April for the extension!) was the most hectic day at St. Augustine High School, where I spend my time serving as a Campus Minister. It also happened to be the same day I was tutoring all by my lonesome with Garrett and Caesar in the St. Patrick’s computer lab. Not really thinking too much about my blog, Garrett decides to enlighten me with his sharp memory of the volunteers that were with him during his first two years as a student at St. Patrick’s. His innocence of shouting out his teachers names, made me realize what I am exactly part of; a greater community of believers and dedicated individuals.
I have a predecessor who so selflessly gave of her time to make a difference in those who she came across at SAINTS and paved the way for this year, where I am challenged with doing the same; to humbly and selflessly walk with my God. The flip side to this equation is that we all have successors. Someone will come next year to be with my boys at SAINTS. This is reassuring. The work we perform and time we spend with our brothers and sisters will be continued by someone else.
With all of that being said, my year has been a mosaic of lessons, emotions, friendship, and especially a great one with God. I am constantly reminded to better myself and those whom I serve through the actions of my loving roommates. From the night before a Kairos retreat, to communal prayer, to running (or walking) a 5k, it is those with whom I live that strengthen me and in turn strengthen those we serve.
Sharing in a meal with my community has served as my greatest classroom. It is at this forum where we share in an array of topical conversations from our day at work to politics to jokes. It is here where we learn from each other. I remember some trying days at work being all but washed away by the energy that is present at our table. It is the moment I feel as if I am going to move in reverse and then quickly pushed forward by community and ultimately by God. Augustine said. “Let us continue to make progress; examine yourself constantly without guile or flattery. Let your present state always leave you dissatisfied if you are to become what you are not yet. For wherever you feel satisfaction, there you will stop. Say ‘it is enough’ and you are lost. You must always look for more, walk onward, and always make progress.”
I do my best at living this quote and have examined myself through the lens of community. This has given me the ability to better serve those I work with on a day-to-day basis. It has allowed for my presence as an Augustinian Volunteer to be a progression for the community I serve.
Will Garrett remember all 9 pairs of Augustinian Volunteers who walk through the halls of St. Patrick’s by the time he reaches his 8th grade year? Who really knows? He is 3 for 3 right now. Let us pray that our community continues to grow and touch all of those whom we work with.
Michael J. Cunningham
San Diego 2008-2009
Permalink
03.25.09
Posted in AV 2008-09 Domestic at 6:48 am by Meghan Fitzgerald
On our very first day of Orientation we were given a journal and asked to take some time to write about the question “Who am I?” I remember sitting in front of my blank journal page thinking to myself that if I knew how to answer this question, I probably wouldn’t be here right now. I entered into this year of service with high expectations and goals. I unrealistically tried to convince myself that after these 10 months in Chicago, there is no doubt I would become a completely different/much better person. So here I am, seven months later…..Have I learned more about myself over the past few months? Of course. Is there still so much more to learn? Absolutely.
The past seven months have been filled with many personal struggles and successes. Working in an all boys high school on the south side of Chicago was pretty rough for me in the beginning. It was a new environment with new rules and new norms. However, my saving grace this year has been the Kairos retreat that I have been able to lead on multiple occasions throughout the year. The retreats help me to reach out to the students on a more personal level and allow me see them in a whole new light. Even if just for a few days while on retreat, the students stop being the macho jerks I see in the hallways everyday and become vulnerable young men just trying to figure out life. Being on retreat with the students and forming the stronger relationships gives me a sense of validation for the work that I do. The retreats not only renew me professionally, they also revitalize me spiritually. Each retreat has been such a powerful experience in it’s own way and each has taught be something new about myself personally, professionally, and spiritually.
“You have made us for yourself oh Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” This St. Augustine phrase has been a theme throughout the year for us as Augustinian Volunteers and it is one we say at school at least twice a day during morning and afternoon prayer, but to be completely honest……I struggle with this concept. I understand the idea that we should always be seeking the Lord and never become complacent in our relationship with God, but being the pessimist I am, I can’t help but hear this phrase and think to myself….I’ll never be good enough. This is a personal struggle that I actively try to work on everyday. Some days are better than others, but I keep on trying.
The boys at school often ask me why I became a volunteer. At first, I found this to be a very frustrating question because every time I answered it I found myself giving different responses and sometimes even getting defensive in my answer. However, after seven months of service, I now find peace in my answer. I can now confidently say in response “I am here this year as a volunteer because God wants me here” and I truly believe this.
Meghan Fitzgerald
Chicago, IL
2008-2009
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03.20.09
Posted in AV 2008-09 Domestic at 4:43 am by Katie Abajian
Diversity characterizes New York City and especially the Bronx. We began the year with a street festival ending in Salsa music and dancing. A day doesn’t go by when you don’t here Bachata music resounding from the subs of a honking car driving down Fordham Rd. I never thought that I would have such difficulty understanding the Irish Brogue, but hanging out with Irish immigrants at Rambling House I’ve improved my ability to understand English. We’ve also had the opportunity to watch live Mariachis and will be seeing live Albanian dancing in a few weeks. I was surprised to hear that the public schools were celebrating Jewish as well as Christian holidays. And every morning when I go to the sixth floor of the rectory, I hear the chanting of the Catholic Vietnamese community praying before their workday even begins.
My daily activities as an Augustinian Volunteer can also be characterized as diverse, because not only do I work with people from all different backgrounds, but throughout my week of service, I get the chance to work with people of all ages, from 6 months to 70 years old! All of which have added to the richness of my experience. The kiddies ages 6 months to 4 years are the primary group I get to work with. This is a group with whom I had no prior experience. So, the most important thing that I have learned is patience and light-heartedness. Sometimes I can’t help but burst out laughing when one of the kids says something funny, or makes an outrageous face for no particular reason. My favorite is when they are so proud of their size and state “I’m big, soy grande,” or when they aspire to be big like me! When it’s a Monday morning and I have no desire to drag myself out of bed, I know that as soon as the first kiddy comes into the door, I will be smiling, happy to be in their presence. They are also quite surprising sometimes in their abilities, such as computer skills, and each little kiddy is diverse in their personality, likes, dislikes, abilities, and temperament.
Every afternoon, the afterschool program brings me kids of a little older range, but still full of energy and ready to bounce off the walls. These kids are in grades 1-2, and 5-6. They once again are from different backgrounds, Vietnamese, Cambodian, Chinese, and Dominican but they all have the same objective in mind: finish homework (or not) so that they can play. These kids are hilarious and challenging at the same time. I really appreciate when they ask me questions like “what are you going to be when you grow up?” or update me on the latest Pokemon or Bakugan games and tactics.
Then on Thursdays I get to experience the more “mature” group of students- the adults. It is really a great experience to teach adults learning English as Second Language because most of them are really motivated to learn the language, listen, and practice during class. Until this year I had never experienced such energy in learning the alphabet, arts and craft projects, the Hokie Pokie, or had to translate a love letter! I enjoy little linguistic moments for example when trying to figure out the meaning of the word “fierce,” I got the response, “the fierce thing you do in the morning is sign-in.” And I’m also challenged in my spelling abilities as well as my ability to explain and charade out definitions!
So, although the Bronx is typically characterized as a dark and dangerous borough, and many of my friends and family had reservations about even visiting me here, I haven’t ever had that fearful experience of living in a dangerous place. The people in my neighborhood are friendly; they are diverse and grateful that we are here to serve in their community. I have had such colorful opportunities to take part in here that I never imagined before coming to the Bronx. With my co-workers, parish members, choir members, Augustinian priests, students, and parents living so close I am really appreciative that I live and work in the diverse community in which I serve. Come July I’m definitely going to miss the title “Miss Katie,” and the question one-year-old Nyomi asks everyday when I leave for lunch “Donde Vas?”
Katie Abajian
Bronx, NY
2008-2009
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