03.29.07
Posted in AV 2006-07 Domestic at 5:58 am by andrewdidom
I recall the night I was given my job placement for this year. My imagination conjured the image of enlightening students to life altering changes in their religious and personal lives. My minds eye shifted, as it always does, to being carried around St. Rita High School by students (with my arm extended and my fist excitedly pumping) as they crown me the undisputed greatest minister of all time. Sadly, there is much truth in that jest.
My journey here at Rita has taught me more than any classroom ever could. Coming from Malvern Prep and Villanova, I have never really experienced diversity in this capacity. One of the development workers said it best when he explained to me, “We have a little mix of everything. [We have] Black, White, Hispanic, rich, poor, middle class, athletes, scholars, etc- all in a top of the line facility in an urban setting.” I immediately thought my mentoring would be to help ease the tension of differences, and I was very wrong. I have never been to a high school, let alone all male, more accepting of all different backgrounds. Sure, there is an occasional elbow thrown around in the hallway, but this is high school and it happens.
One experience that has been burned into my memory occurred on the sophomore retreat. I was lecturing about the importance of treating others with respect and boring everyone, even myself. I decided to get the kids involved in a little discussion about the differences here at school and the answers were not very insightful. I looked across the room and noticed that the way they happen to seat them selves was by race. I pointed it out hoping to “stir the pot” and get into a heated discussion. Marcus raised his hand, and in so many words told me that I was out of line. Many other kids reiterated his words. One said, ”We know we come from different places, but here, we look at one another as brothers and we get along. Maybe you see the differences, but we try not too.” I can honestly say I was a little embarrassed and very humbled. This may not depict the overall alarmingly segregated city of Chicago very well, but within the walls of St. Rita, I see a great deal of hope.
I have had many little stories of minor revelations during the course of this year. I go on Kairos and try and make the guys cry once a month. I have the honor of giving a speech that talks a lot about “taking off your masks” and “finding God in struggle”, the same speech that had a great affect on me during my own senior retreat. There is no words that express how it feels to see someone completely breakdown and have God build them back up
I have many nicknames around school: the coach, coacher, D, and the Guy. I have a pretty special relationship with these kids, Brother Jerome, and Mary Rita. I will be sad to see it end. I really have no complaints. I wake up in the morning with a real purpose, and I am happy. I have made mistakes, but I keep living and learning because, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13).
Ed and I ran in a five-mile race this past weekend. Pretty solid finish times if I may say so. Heather and Carrie are swimming daily. The house lives by a motto, “What would Chuck do”. When Charles Stickney runs, he goes 20 miles. When Charles Stickney speaks, its nothing but truth. When Charles Stickney plays, he wins.
Andrew DiDomenico
Chicago
Permalink
03.28.07
Posted in AV 2006-07 Domestic at 8:27 am by caitsheehy
September 5th, 2006: “My first day at St. Vincent de Paul Village, a homeless shelter in downtown San Diego- my first impression- my first experience was uncomfortable. As I walked into the main lobby with Eileen I noticed a man in his late 20s. I couldn’t help but think that he looked exactly like a friend of mine. However, when I noticed his tattered clothes, broken sunglasses, and dirty fingernails I returned to the present moment and realized I was finally here, at St. Vincent’s. I sat down next to the man on a freshly cleaned bench inside the lobby. He was sitting so peacefully with a new set of clothes placed in his lap. I heard him ask the receptionist if he could shower. He was told that it may be a few hours before he could shower, but instead of complaining he simply looked at me shrugged his shoulders and smiled. A few minutes later, he asked me if I had just moved in. I said “well yeah kinda” and then began to explain that it was my first day working as a full time volunteer in the Village’s family literacy program. I told him more about my job and how excited I was to tutor k-8th and teach pre-school but in my mind I was much more nervous than excited. Just as I was realizing how nervous I actually was, our conversation was interrupted by the receptionist. She told the man to get off the bench because it had just been cleaned. As I went to pick up my bag and remove myself from the clean bench also the receptionist kindly looked at me and said “Oh no dear you’re fine.” The man’s expression dropped and he turned to me and said “wow, being homeless sucks.” That morning I got off the clean bench and I stood to wait for Jayne, my new boss to show me around the Village. While I stood waiting I realized I was no longer nervous or anxious because I knew that this was exactly where I was meant to be.”
That was the first thing I wrote in my journal when I got home from my first day at St. Vincent de Paul Village. Looking back on that first day, I still remember so vividly the moment that man was asked to get off the bench and I was given the ok to keep sitting. He was smiling in the beginning of our conversation but the second he was asked to get off the bench his peaceful smile was gone.
I have been working at the Village for almost seven months and one of the most valuable lessons I have learned is to treat everyone with dignity and respect. Homelessness is dehumanizing and degrading. There is a lack of peace on the streets surrounding the Village and there is a lack of peace in the Village as people are oppressed and suffering. Chronic homelessness is what plagues most of the impoverished population in San Diego and throughout the U.S. Working specifically with the wonderful children at the Village; I have come to understand more clearly the cycle of poverty operating in the U.S. The cycle harms a child’s dignity. The children I teach, tutor, and play with everyday suffer at such a young age from abuse, violence, and instability. I know there is a liberating path for them. Each day when I see the kindness, selflessness, and love that comes from the staff and volunteers at the Village as well as from my housemates, Anthony, Keeley, Beth, Zack, and Cheryl, I am so hopeful and energized to continue working for that path towards peace, that path that exists when all people can smile because they have been treated with dignity and respect.
Permalink
03.20.07
Posted in AV 2006-07 Domestic at 8:53 am by amiskovsky
In selecting a theme for my year as an Augustinian Volunteer, a stanza from Archbishop Oscar Romero’s poem “Prophets of a Future Not our Own,” says it best: “This is what we are about: We plant seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities.”
After reviewing the job description and signing on to be a Program Assistant at Mothers’ Home, a homeless shelter for pregnant women, I still had no idea what to expect. Vivid memories from my first day on the job included babies crying, the smell of fresh powder, phones ringing in my ear, and people bustling in and out. As a “program assistant”, I soon realized that my many tasks would include not only planning fundraisers, counseling women, and teaching computer classes, but also holding hands, drying tears, and singing sweet lullabies.
One of my very first memories at Mothers’ Home is of a girl named Jennifer. I met her my second day when I was passing her in the hallway. Attempting to spark some friendly conversation, I smiled, introduced myself, and inquired about her name. I stood there for a few seconds waiting for her to respond as I unconsciously looked Jennifer up and down. I remember staring at the tattoos that were stretched across her neck, which I later learned were the names of her children. Just as I was about to pass judgment, she quickly snapped me out of my staring trance as she looked up, stared me in the eye, and walked away. This was the only interaction that Jennifer and I would have in the month of September.
As the weeks and months past, my original feelings of intimidation began to transform to feelings of understanding and eagerness to help Jennifer. She, in turn began to trust me as I started to help her work towards her G.E.D. Three months of daily study included not only memorizing fractions and times tables, but a glimpse into her world as she talked to me about her troubled past and her worries for the future. Sadly, Jennifer got herself into some legal trouble and was discharged from Mothers’ Home. I have not seen her since the middle of December. I know that I had begun to plant a seed within Jennifer through my constant encouragement and support, but I always wonder how that flower will bloom or if it will blossom at all.
As I process everything that has happened thus far in my year of service, I cannot help but feel overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the people I have met, the stories I have heard, the injustices I have experienced, and the lives and hearts in which I have been blessed to become a part. The past six months have been a mixture of daily joys and struggles. My frustrations focus on the afflictions, sorrows, and hardships that arise from a cycle of poverty, which seems endless and almost impossible to break. All of this compels me to somehow, in my own way, make a difference.
Archbishop Oscar Romero’s words of conclusion charge me to action, “We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing this. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it’s a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.” Wholly understanding these words is a constant struggle, especially when realizing that I may never know the end result of my service. Through all of this I recognize that what is truly important is my whole hearted attempt to plant and water seeds, continually hoping that one day they will grow.
Permalink