Creating Change?

I've been introduced to a new idea that is challenging and I feel like I should write out a couple thoughts to explore it further. An idea that I've talked about a lot in this blog and in my newsletters is that of my own privilege. I've been blessed with access to all life's necessities and more, which makes it much easier for me to take a year without making any real money to volunteer and experiment with living in community. It's obvious from our house and from meeting the national YAVs that we are largely a caucasian group of people. A book that we are reading as a house suggests that white people have traditionally had access to higher social status and can more easily live intentional and alternative lifestyles than can other groups who have traditionally been held back from achieving social status. In one passage the book describes an interaction between a white person who is being self righteous about eating organic, vegetarian foods and a black person who says something like "when I was growing up the only choice we had was organic, vegetarian food!" This in itself is a challenging idea, but I think it has some good merit in partially explaining why a lot of intentional, simple lifestyle communities are made up of mostly white people. But this isn't the idea I'm thinking about here.

No More Deaths (NMD) is a humanitarian aid group in Tucson that gives medical aid to migrants who have gotten stranded in the desert and are in trouble. They also push for immigration policy changes. NMD is another organization made up almost entirely of white faces and in my opinion their work saves lives and is necessary. A friend of mine brought up the issue that the organization is composed mainly of white members and explained how he thought it was arrogant for us to think that we could speak for this group of people without representation from that group. There are no migrants that are members of NMD as far as I know. But the point he was making was that we cannot expect to make any real change for people in a completely different demographic.

I can see his point, but have a few things to say to shine some light on the other side of the issue. The first point is that I don't think NMD actively discourages migrants or Hispanics from joining. Maybe it's really intimidating for someone to walk into a room of white people and to feel connected with and welcomed by that group. But how do you change that? I really don't think there should be a membership quota to fill in order to feel like they can do the work they want to do. I also don't think recruiting members based on race is a good thing, since it still singles them out based on their race. Also, it's obvious that people in my demographic have a tremendous amount of privilege, but what are we to do with that privilege? I might be wrong, but it seems like I can use that privilege in a way that fights marginalization in society or I can use it to advance myself. I don't feel guilty for whatever privilege I've been born in to, because there's nothing I could do about that and because it gives me a responsibility to use it in a way that helps resist marginalization. But at the same time I do think that my friend has a point that the groups that are trying to create change would be stronger if they included, or were led by, people in the group that is being marginalized. Any thoughts on the issue?

Cascabel, AZ

This past weekend we were able to go on a retreat to the town of Cascabel, which is about an hour and a half's drive east from Tucson. Cascabel has a great story behind it and the people in the town are extremely unique. To get into town one must drive on miles of dirt road and a four-wheel-drive is a requirement if you're going to live there. The focus of the community is to live ecologically friendly and simple lives. The first woman we met, Barbara, built her house out of recycled materials and is a self proclaimed hippie who moved to the community in the '60s. She now sells pottery to make a living and heats her house with wood-burning stoves. We also met a man, named Daniel, who lives in a sweet tent for a good portion of his time and facilitates hermitages for people who want to get away from the noise in their heads and find God in nature.

It seems like a perfect place to clear one's head and find God in the stillness; the canyon is gorgeous. This weekend was the first time that I've seen large trees in the desert: Sycamores, Cottonwoods and popplers. It was so strange to see the white bark and vibrant fall leaves of a Sycamore tree in the canyon contrasting against the background of jagged cliffs and Saguaro cacti. It also just so happens that the only time it has really rained since we came to Tucson was this weekend... the entire time. The three guys and Brandon slept under a tarp that was strung up between some tree branches and managed to stay fairly dry, despite Nature's attempts. We only got kind of wet on the second night when the rain was blowing in from the side. I woke up at some hour of the night to discover a moat flowing around our sleeping area; luckily we built up a mound of dirt around us before going to sleep.

On the last day we were there we helped run a Christmas Festival that the community puts on every year. Local vendors come to this festival and sell their pottery, art, jewelery, leather etc. and tons of people from the surrounding area come to check out the festivities. As I sat on the grass listening to some local folk music as people perused the tents, children ran around in the dry river basin and I ate chili made by the local fire department I was struck by how much I felt like I was part of a story from Lake Woebegone. Garrison Keillor always focuses on the community feel of his imaginary small town and I definitely felt that in Cascabel. These people are pretty isolated from urban life and have given up many conveniences and luxuries that we have, but they have a wonderful community and seem to be living fulfilling lives. How cool would it be to have a YAV house in Cascabel!?

I pulled this out of a client's toilet

Well, the title pretty much says the story, but this is a plant that we pulled out of the hole in the floor under a client's toilet. Who knows how it got there. Maybe someone had way too much Shredded Wheat? Just another day in the adventurous life of a CHRPA volunteer!

Our crazy house...

Man, it's been quite a while since the last time I posted anything on this blog! On one of my recent entries I said that I was excited about getting into a routine and getting familiar with it so I can focus on deepening my experiences. I've definitely gotten into a routine, but may need to back off a bit on the number of things I have in that routine. So much has happened since the last time I updated this blog, and it will take multiple entries to get all those thoughts and experiences in writing, so I'll just focus on a couple interesting things that have happened recently.

One of the focuses of our house is to live a lifestyle that limits our impact on the environment as much as possible. The animals around us must have picked up on the fact that we're an environmentally-friendly house, because they are making frequent visits. First we noticed several small, furry friends scurrying around our floors at night. After much discussion and lamenting, we concluded that our little friends must die. We tried to think of ways that were humane, but killing mice is pretty much inherently dirty work. We set up mouse traps with peanut butter as the bait and caught five of the little guys over the next few days. Each morning before breakfast we'd check the traps and whenever we found that one of our visitors had taken the bait, he/she had his/her eyes wide open, gazing upward as if to say, "et tu, YAVs?" It's okay, though. They had to go.

Another animal experience happened in those same few days. I came home and walked in my room to find a Cactus Wren (the state bird of Arizona) perched above my chamber door. Perched, and sat, and nothing more. He asked if my soul was in pain over the mice we had tempted and slain. Then he looked at me and said "nevermore."
Actually he was just hopping around the floor, looking for a window or door. I'm not sure how he got in, but it was strange to have so many animal visitors in our house during this time.

Another interesting experience happened just today when I decided to try and wash my clothes by hand. There is a concrete wash basin in our backyard and it was a struggle to figure out how to get the clothes clean and rinsed without losing all the water in the basin from the drain. I ended up plugging the drain by duct taping an old bike inner tube to the drain and elevating the other end to keep the water from flowing out. I used Oasis detergent, which is biodegradable and filled up a bucket from the outside spicket to transfer wash and rinse water to the basin. It took forever to get my clothes clean and I now have a great respect for the people who have to do this all the time.

These are just a couple interesting and humorous things that have happened very recently, but I plan on writing about all the other things and thoughts that have happened in the past month shortly. I have started thinking about plans for next year, have attended a couple protest events, have continued to learn about home repair (especially involving furnaces) and got the chance to attend a cultural event in Tucson known as the Day of the Dead procession. What a crazy month! I'm looking forwarding to getting my thoughts out to you soon.

Tempus Fugit!

Maybe my five years of Latin did come in handy after all. "Tempus Fugit!" translates to "Time Flies!" even though the ancient Romans did not use punctuation. It might sound cliche (though maybe cliches are used so often because they tend to be true) but it seems like time has absolutely flown in Tucson so far. It has almost been two months already! That means that I will have to start looking into opportunities for next year. My goal is to not let my search for future opportunities get in the way of being present here and now. It's just crazy how early applications for grad schools or seminaries or whatever have to be submitted. One great thing about getting settled is that I now have a routine that I know well. To me this is a good thing, not because it limits spontaneity, but because I can concentrate on the specific tasks at hand and go deeper in the meaning I find during the year. It is now much easier to find time to grow in relationship with coworkers or housemates and it's easier to find the space to develop certain disciplines, which will help in discerning meaning and direction during this year.

One of these disciplines is finding time to read. I am currently reading "The Call," by Os Guinness and a book that describes the twelve marks of the New Monasticism movement in a collection of essays written by people who have lived in and reflected upon these intentional communities. I'm challenged by a lot of the radical ideas presented in these books about what it means to be a disciple of Christ, and I need time to reflect and consider these ideas. No doubt several blog entries in the future will be devoted to considering some of these ideas. It's kind of weird but hearing some of these ideas has made me want to learn more about history. Maybe this is because understanding why things the way they are is more important to me now.

Anyway the point is that time is flying by and I'm feeling like we just got here. In other news I was able to get up to Ohio over the weekend for my cousin, Kirsten's, wedding. It was a wonderful time seeing and celebrating with family that I don't get to see that often. Also a cause for celebration, I found out that Brenna is recovering very well from her car accident and is going to be fine. Today I went around to various jobs with Kristy, a CHRPA worker who started shortly before I started working. This was really the first time when I wasn't just a helper and had to make the decisions on how to make the repairs. As nerve racking as this can be, I feel like it's a necessary step in becoming the T-Rex of repairmen. Only when I have to figure things out on my own will I really grow to the point where I'm confident in my job. This was an exciting step and I hope I'll get the chance to practice more often from now on.

Filler Year

One of the inevitable responsibilities of a YAV, which I like and view as a blessing, is to explain what we're doing during this year to multiple people almost every day. This is a wonderful opportunity because it allows us to share our experiences and to expose people to a different model of Christian life; a model that is becoming more popular and that is probably different from what most people have seen before. I have noticed a common reaction from people when we tell them about this year of volunteering and have thought about it a lot: "Oh, so you're doing this as a filler year before you get a real job."

In one sense, yes, most of us are here to help us in discerning callings and vocations, but isn't that a life-long process? Personally I had options other than doing the YAV year. It could have been very possible for me to stay with my internship at the forensics lab and to move into a full time position eventually, which is a wonderful, coveted job. So maybe the best way to express my thoughts about this common reaction is to say that this is not a filler year, it's a vital part of my career. I'm not putting real life on hold for a year; this is real life. I'm grateful for this reaction to my description of what I'm doing this year, because it has led me to that realization.

In other news, things have been going really well recently. I've been feeling great about the chemistry of our house and of my co-workers at CHRPA. I will soon be a quadzilla from the twenty mile round trip to and from work. We helped a 93 year old woman the other day by setting up an Easy-Lift chair in her living room and her gratitude was priceless. She thought it was such a beautiful chair. This woman is amazing because she is 93 and as she puts it, "I live alone, I cook my own meals, do my own dishes, and I like it!" Last night we went to the Tucson Meet Yourself Festival downtown. I couldn't believe how many food tents from other countries were set up. Never before have I eaten gyros, baklava, fry bread, churros, peach cobbler, and fried rice with egg rolls from Laos in the same meal. As good as it was, it felt like WWIII was happening in my stomach at 3 am this morning. We're going back tonight, but I'll be a bit more conservative about the food selection and will get some pictures for my web album.

On a more serious note please keep Brenna from the track team, InterVarsity and the Fellowship of Christian Athletes at William and Mary in your prayers, because she was in a bad car wreck and is in serious to critical condition at the hospital.

Lessons of Ghost Ranch

A couple weeks ago we left for Ghost Ranch, NM for a national YAV orientation. The Tucson and Hollywood YAVs had just gotten back from the BoderLinks trip to Mexico the night before, so we were all looking forward to some time to retreat into the wilderness of New Mexico. I'd be lying to you if I said we all got a ton of sleep and felt rested at the end of the orientation, but I was fed and refreshed in other ways.

It was great meeting the YAVs from other sites. Going into the trip I had the expectation that different sites around the country would attract different kinds of people in a way that would make the people at a certain site similar to each other but different from people from other sites. Goes to show you how much I know. I'm growing to learn more that whenever I make an assumption or try to group people into classifications I'm always wrong. It is refreshing to see that the YAVs from around the country are very similar to the YAVs in Tucson. That's not to say that everyone's the same; it's more to say that everyone there is a definite individual. What ties us all together is our common passion for following Jesus by serving and getting at the root of injustice in our country. I'm well aware that being faithful does not have to, or even usually, mean going to seminary, but the people at the National Volunteers Office (NVO) told us the slightly frightening statistic that 70% of YAVs end up going to seminary (yikes!).

There was a big focus during the week at finding God in the silence, which was especially appropriate in the setting of the desert mesas. I got the opportunity to hike up to Chimney Rock twice: once before the sun came up and once after the sun had gone down, during which we only used the moon to illuminate the pathway. What a great place to facilitate reflection and prayer! If I just sit in a secluded place outside and notice my surroundings, it's amazing how quickly a sense of peace comes over me. It's kind of like being in a room where five people are trying to talk to me and all of a sudden the one conversation I'm trying to listen to comes through with crystal clarity. It's not that I hear the voice of God during that time, but I do feel like I can be receptive to it at that point. It's also nice to know that in spite of all the chaos and noise going on during the work day there are majestic mesas sitting in silence that have been seen hundreds of generations pass by.

Today is Columbus Day, so I have the day off. This is really the first week in which we'll be in a routine. The past month or so has been exciting, learning the Tucson area and being oriented to our purpose and the people here, but I'm ready to get into a routine to have some consistency in my days. It will be nice to be in a place where I can notice change and progress over time.

Experiencing the Border

In my last post I promised to write about my experience on the Mexican side of the border from a trip with an organization called BorderLinks. BorderLinks takes delegation groups (college groups, youth groups, law school students, various interest groups, etc...) on trips across the border to educate them about border issues on the Mexican side. We were only gone for three days and two nights, but it seemed like at least a week because it was so packed with intense information. Our group (the Tucson YAVs and the four YAVs from Hollywood, CA) started in Tucson with an introduction to the border by Rev. John Fife. This extraordinary man started the Sanctuary Movement in the 1980's for central American refugees fleeing from their homelands during periods of military violence. He organized an underground railroad of sorts to host refugees from these countries who were being recognized by the US as illegal immigrants instead of refugees. When deported many of these people would have to face the death squads in their home countries who they were fleeing from in the first place. He was taken to court and eventually got the national policy changed, to make a long story short. He brought up the point that the Church has historically been strong in taking care of marginalized peoples' temporary needs by providing charity (soup kitchens, clothing drives etc.), but has not been strong historically in fighting the root causes of marginalization. The charity aspect is absolutely critical, because people do have daily needs, but it is really like treating the burns without lifting your hand from the flames. This brings about another huge question:
is it morally right to go against a law that one knows is inhumane? Also, what should be the government's role in eradicating the causes of marginalization in our country? These are of course questions that our country has been wrestling with for many decades, but it is interesting to attack these questions from the perspective of a border town.

Our first stop in Mexico was Nogales. Immediately after crossing the border we were in a third world country. The streets were awful (not to mention the drivers!) and most of the buildings, especially houses, did not seem to be structurally sound. I won't be able to say every stop we made, since it would take forever, but I'll go over some highlights. We hung out at the Wall and admired some pieces of art that had been painted and sculpted on the Mexican side of the Wall. We met up with the artists, who were able to explain their intentions with the art. That night a couple trip mates and I stayed in a Mexican family's house... well it was on its way to becoming a house anyway. The mother's name was Blanca and the hospitality given to us was incredible. Their house had cinder block walls and a roof made from a piece of tin with holes in it. There was no door and the family was exposed to more weather than people in a house should be. Despite this they cooked us two wonderful meals and their two boys gave up their room so that we could have beds to sleep in. The next day we visited the Center for Repatriated Minors, which was especially sad to see. These were minors who were caught trying to cross the border, who had been sent back to this center to be sent back to their home towns.

One of the most striking points of the trip came when we visited Altar (pronounced All-tar). This is the main jump off point for migrants who are planning to cross the border. There are crowds of people, who are from all over, waiting in the town square, and there are backpack vendors and water vendors lining the streets, obviously selling supplies to migrants planning on making the journey. We also visited a "guest house" for migrants, which was a run down room full of bunk beds that had pieces of plywood instead of mattresses. The floor was covered in flies that were feeding on dried bodily fluids and each migrants was charged 50 pesos per night, which is a night ($5), which does not seem like much until you realized that these people are making an average of $3 per day. In order to eat they are charged another 35 pesos. Along one side of the town square there are large white vans lined up, which are driven by Coyotes (people who charge huge fees to smuggle migrants into the US), just waiting to pick up a van full of migrants to take them to a remote part of the desert where they can walk for 3 days to make it into the US. One man who we talked with asked if it was hard to cross the desert and after getting over my shock I told him, through and interpreter, that yes it is extremely difficult and many people die in the process. Coyotes tend to lie to migrants to make the trip seem like it will be a piece of cake. We obviously stuck out like sore thumbs in this crowd and I felt a little guilty for taking a trip to observe these struggling people. But I have to remind myself that being educated about this process is not mere tourism.

That night we slept on the floor of a migrant shelter (different than the barf-covered floors of the guest house) run by the Catholic church in the area. Here we got the chance to share a meal with some migrants planning to cross the desert. When we got back to Tucson we spent some time in the federal court and got the chance to talk with a judge about immigration law. That was a real treat and we had a great discussion. I made a promise with myself before leaving for Tucson that I would stay open minded to all perspectives of the issues on the border and I will continue to keep that promise. I have found it important, however, to learn more about a few things that will be crucial when one is forming an opinion about undocumented workers and immigration policy. First, I strongly recommend learning more about the history of the US-Mexico border. It is important to learn about the trends of the past and the history of immigration policy along this border. Another important piece in learning the motivation for migrants to come to the US is to look at economic policies and partnerships between our countries. One of the main policies that is important is called the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). One term in this agreement was that Mexico would stop agricultural subsidies to its farmers, which drove the prices of their crops way up and allowed US crops to be sold much cheaper in Mexico. Thousands of farmers were driven out of business in this way. I said earlier in this post that the average person in Nogales is making around $3 per day, which does not cut it. These are a couple initial factors to take into consideration when making up one's mind about comprehensive immigration policy reform. I would love to hear anyone's opinion on anything written in this post or anyone's opinion about border policy in general. Salud!

I'm growing a "beard"

Since arriving in Tucson I've decided to grow a "beard," or my version of one. This is something that I've never done before and the experiment brings about some interesting findings. The most shocking being that I am almost fully Amish. This is to be taken as a high compliment, as Amish living is extremely awesome. Actually Sean and Kirk, the other two guys in the Tucson house, are growing beards as well. Is there something about moving to the desert and doing service mission work that compels men to grow wild facial hair? We'll see how long this keeps up, but for the time being, I like it...

Yesterday I arrived back in Tucson after a two week period of traveling in Mexico and New Mexico. We learned about border issues first hand in Mexico and had time to meet other national YAVs and set our minds and spirits in the right direction at Ghost Ranch, New Mexico. I will be posting stories from these experiences shortly.

Pain in the City

It has become more apparent to me how much pain and struggle there is in the city of Tucson. This is best illustrated by an experience I had while running an errand one afternoon about a week ago. There is a bike path behind our house that runs along the Santa Cruz River, which only has water in it when there is a storm. I was riding along this path to get into town and saw some police lights and an area that was taped off, which is not too unusual a site anywhere, so I thought nothing of it. On the way home the police and their tape were gone, but I saw a man in the same spot who had a woman by the hair. He was jerking her around and punching her. I rode by and then turned back a couple seconds later to call the cops, but they had started running off. There was a homeless man, who was extremely worked up, named Leo, sitting where I turned around on my bike that told me that the police from before were there because a man had been shot. Leo heard the gun shots and saw the victim laying on the ground groaning. I had some phone numbers for shelters in Tucson where Leo could stay the night back at the house, so I left to grab them and rode back to Leo, where we had a long conversation about what had happened and about his experiences that led to his homelessness. While we were talking a woman approached us and asked if either of us wanted to go behind the bushes and "mess around." When we weren't interested she turned and ran off. Our house has a car at the moment, until it gets sold, so I went back to the house and got Kirk to come with me in the car to give Leo a ride to the shelter. Leo was extremely grateful and kept saying that he knew that God had sent Kirk and I to help him out on that particular day; and maybe he was right. Maybe I was supposed to meet Leo. Getting him to a shelter for one night is such a tiny piece of what a person needs, but the experience has begun to shape my view of the problems and pain in Tucson in a much more profound way. Within thirty minutes I witnessed an abundance of suffering and brokenness on one street corner. I felt helpless in a way, because the only thing I could do was help one person in a miniscule way. Is there something about the way our system works that forces people into these horrible situations? It's necessary for me to remind myself constantly that it will take something much bigger than myself to serve this community and that I'm just as broken as these people, be it in much different ways.

Hello, Tucson!

I have finally made it to Tucson! This morning is the first time that we have had internet access at the house, which has actually been nice in a way. Not having internet or TV in the house for the first week has allowed the group in our house to get to know each other and bond in a way that would not have been possible otherwise. There are 7.5 of us in the house... Leisha lives in Mexico during the week, but spends her weekends in Tucson. We have gotten our bikes and have been biking around town to get things we need for the house and to make runs to the grocery store. It's amazing how much food 8 young adults can go through in a day! I have a roommate from Springfield, IL named Sean. The house we have inherited is... querky. We are committed to using as few resources as possible during the year. There is a solar heated shower, a swamp cooler (instead of a traditional AC unit), no heating system, a plumbing system known as gray water in which water that is not used for drinking or in the toilet is used several times before going to the sewer, and almost everything is either recycled. Our living room is painted in several southwestern desertish colors and there is a woman named Terry who lives in a small house in our backyard who shares our kitchen every so often. I will write later about my volunteer placement at Community Home Repair Projects of Arizona (CHRPA). Even as I sit here my housemates are hanging out in the common area discussing the exciting and anxiety-inducing parts of their days and placements. Already this week I have met some really amazing people and have seen genuine pain and need in the city. I feel like those experiences over the past week will be another post in themselves. I'm still adjusting to the city, the HEAT (though it's a dry heat...) and finding my way around town on the bike. There will be more to come soon enough, and I'll be posting pictures soon as well. Buenas noches, amigos!

This is a picture of my roommate, George, and I. I'm on the left.

Testing 1,2...3

This is the inaugural post on my new blog. Sorry that the first post is nothing spectacular, but just you wait. This blog will become the most viewed blog on the internet within two months, just you wait and see. Already four people have viewed this blog and I haven't even written anything on it. Imagine how many people will view the blog when there's writing on it! Not to mention interesting writing! Ten, tweny, maybe even thirty people a year!