Expanding My Concept of Community

This past week I was blessed to coordinate a service trip to El Paso, Texas to learn about issues surrounding immigration into the United States. Our host site was at the Annunciation House, an organization which cares for immigrants in their transition into the United States. The Annunciation House cares for those who have crossed the border without documents, those seeking asylum, and those collecting their social security benefits. The Annunciation House has four locations: Annunciation House, Casa Vides, Nazareth, and Casa Teresa. The main house is open to migrants who are in need of a place to stay while working towards their next step, Casa Vides houses those who need a longer stay, Nazareth houses migrants who are seeking asylum and need a place to stay for a day or two before moving on to their next stop, and Casa Teresa hosts the administrative offices. Everything at Annunciation House is run by volunteers who receive no kind of monetary benefit and volunteers only have their basic needs met. The house is funded purely on donations, yet everything still works. The reason that I go into such detail about the workings of the house is that the work being done is remarkable and incredibly necessary.

This summer, there was a large exodus of migrants from Central America (Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador) who were fleeing violence. In order to account for this the United States government opened a detention center named Artesia which is located in a remote area of New Mexico. The average age of detainees there is six years old and the detainees are primarily women and children. This means that many people who are simply entering the United States to flee the violence in their home countries are being locked up in the middle of the desert. Because the detention center in Artesia was at capacity and ICE was out of solutions, Annunciation House was able to step in and care for those seeking asylum. Though many Americans may think that those seeking asylum aren't running from true strife, it is interesting to note that of the five cases that have actually been carried from start to finish out of Artesia with proper legal representation have been granted asylum. These people are fleeing their homes because they fear for their lives and we "open our arms" by locking them up with their children in the desert. This treatment is far from humane and far from just.

The worst part of much of this is that the violence these people face is created by an industry the United States has generated: the drug industry. Americans love weed, cocaine, heroine, and many other drugs and Central and South American drug cartels are more than happy to provide for our addictions. The cartels will do whatever they can to gain power and this means oftentimes murdering the people of their countries to gain turf. The governments in these countries lack power which means the drug cartels are at liberty to do as they please. By using drugs recreationally, Americans are putting the lives of others in danger. If you choose to use drugs, I urge you to understand that you have blood on your hands and a high is not worth that truth.

I was also able to learn this week that there is essentially no legal way for an immigrant to enter the United States simply looking for work. If an immigrant worker was even considered for a Visa it could easily take decades before that is granted. Our economy relies on these migrant workers and our farms would not be sustained if these human beings did not enter our country. The least we could do is provide them with a fair, legal pathway to citizenship and/or entry into our country. Instead, we force them to migrate illegally. Those who are caught migrating in the dark through the desert in search for work are prosecuted as criminals and deported with any chance of entering our country legally eliminated.

While I am not trying to preach, I am trying to make a point. I realized just how privileged I am to be a white United States citizen this week. To have been born in Omaha, NE may be one of the luckiest moments of my life. I do not have to fear for my life as I leave my home and I currently have three jobs available to me for money. I do not have to fear that I will be discriminated against racially when I reach the Border Patrol checkpoint outside of El Paso. I do not feel guilty for this privilege, but I do feel that it gives me a much larger responsibility. I am responsible for ensuring that my brothers and sisters in Mexico and Central America are treated humanely and justly. If Jordan, one of the poorest countries in Eastern Europe, can receive millions of refugees from Syria, why are we unable to receive thousands of refugees from the south?

My community is not only those who are able to claim they are United States citizens. My community is the many human beings of this planet. If caring for my community means fighting a hard battle to gain just, humane immigration reform, I will do it. If caring for my community means sharing or giving of my belongings, I will do it. If caring for my community means breaking boundaries, I will do it. My community is what truly matters in this temporal, earthly life, and I shall care for and treasure it with my whole being.

Accepting God's Invitation

Tonight I went to mass per usual for my Saturday nights and I am so glad I went. Father Carlson, one of my favorite Jesuits said the mass and he had quite a compelling homily. He talked about accepting God's invitation in our life. As I live in my senior year and am trying to be thoughtful, this was precisely what I needed to hear. I may think I know what God wants me to do, but sometimes I am wrong and sometimes I need to listen a little more closely - even if it scares me. Though I may not know exactly what God wants me to do or what God's invitation is for me, Father Carlson reminded me to be willing to accept that invitation regardless of what it is. When I become anxious (which is often) it calms me to know that trusting in God will lead me in the right direction. Father Carlson spoke to exactly what I needed to hear. For that I am grateful.

The Beauty of Perfect Days

Today when I woke up I did not expect it to be a great day. I have been in the midst of numerous anxiety attacks due to the overwhelming load I have taken on and unfortunately, waking up has been stressful. I even missed my alarm which made me wake up a half hour late, but besides that, I had what felt like a perfect day.

It began and ended in the CCSJ which I think has a lot to do with it. I woke up, went to the CCSJ to do some tasky things and have a pre-trip meeting for my service trip. In this meeting I was able to reflect on the past few weeks my co-coordinator and I have had in preparing for the trip and I have never been more excited. I have wanted to go to El Paso for years and I am able to lead the trip with one of my closest friends. Our group is excited, enthusiastic, and committed which is all I could ever ask for and I cannot wait to experience El Paso with them.

I then ate lunch with some of my Kappa sisters and studied in the library. It was mac and cheese day and mac and cheese is one of my favorite meals so I was pretty happy. Also, as lame as it sounds, I was so happy to be studying. It put some of those nerves I mentioned earlier to rest which was needed.

Next, I had class, dinner, and body pump. Class and dinner were pretty typical, but I always look forward to body pump. Over the past year and a half exercise has become a priority in my life and not working out makes me a crabby person. Also, Precy, the lady who runs body pump is a gem. Lifting is not my forte, but she makes me believe in myself. Over the past year I have become so much stronger and her encouragement has a lot to do with that.

Then I had my final General Meeting as a leader of the service and justice trip program and I have never been happier. When I think back to our first meeting in February and think to now, Melissa, Drew, Bekah, and I have grown immensely. Being on core team has given me confidence and skills that are of immeasurable value. The amount of energy in the room tonight was incredible and I feel like the participants and coordinators are just as excited as we are about service. The CCSJ has led me and challenged me to follow my passions. It has provided me with an outlet where I can be myself yet challenge myself to be more. I have never been truly unhappy in the CCSJ which I think speaks to that office's character. I cannot express my gratitude nearly enough for the mentors in that office who have shaped me and I feel joy.

I ended my evening talking to my residents with whom I am finally connecting. I love that I can open my door up and that any one of the 30 of them will stop by and we can have a full conversation. I am getting to know who they are as individuals - the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful - which is my favorite part about being an RA. I don't think they know how much they impact my life, but since I know Riley is reading this, I am sure she can tell them all ;)

So. Today was a beautiful, perfect day. Those do not occur often and I am so grateful to have had it. Below are some photos from the week and I hope you enjoy them.

Peace.

An Ode to my Feet

Here they are, the lovely feet that carry me everywhere:

You may be wondering what inspired me to write this post. It is an odd topic, but I think it is important. The other day I was off to a meeting and I ran into a friend. I was wearing my chaco sandals that I wear nearly everyday and she looked at my feet and said, "You need to paint your nails girlfriend." While I understand that my feet don't look that great, I took more offense at the comment than I should have and I wanted to know why. After thinking about it for a while, I realized it is because I have a deeper connection to my feet than most people probably have. Don't worry, I don't have a fetish or anything like that, but I am very grateful to have two feet that take me where I need to go.

I have this connection to my feet for a variety of reasons, but I didn't truly understand it until I took a course in Medical Anthropology. Throughout the course we discussed a variety of cultural issues relating to health such as deaf culture, blind culture, the culture of mental health care, etc. We also talked about how our cultures would change if we went without a limb or a sense.

This became real to me because as a child I broke my leg due to a tumor and I was unable to use it fully for about nine months. I knew what it was like to go without. I could no longer play soccer, ride my bike, play tag, or participate in PE. My entire identity changed for those nine months and I did not like that.

As I grew older I reintegrated myself into sports, especially running. Running to me is more than just a way to stay in shape. It is a therapeutic, meditative act that is incredibly integral in my life. If I go too long without a run, my entire outlook changes. I have worked through some very real issues during runs and I have learned how to push myself to my highest limitations and even beyond them. I could not do this without my feet. I could not run, bike, do yoga, climb stairs, hike mountains, or go on walks with my sister in the same way.

Though I have more blisters and callouses than anyone ever should, currently have my left toe wrapped in a bandage, have zig zag tan lines from my chacos, and have really rough looking toe nails, I don't mind. My feet do more for me than much else in my life, and for that, I appreciate them.