A Christmas celebration featuring Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus, Border Patrol, and a detained migrant.
Only in El Paso.
I had my first experience of celebrating the Posadas this past Christmas. Las Posadas is a commemoration of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus-in-the-womb's journey of finding a place to stay shortly before Jesus' birth.
I entered Cristo Rey (the church where we attended the posadas), expecting the same-old, same-old Christmas pageant-type performance that I was used to--cute little girls with crooked sparkly halos, voiceless shepherds who look so forlorn, and the typical proceeding of Mary and Joseph to the manger-side. Mind you, these were still elements included in the play (well, the shepherds showed a little bit of excitement for a change...), but before we cut right to the Star of the show, another story needed to be told.
I was delighted to see a few of my middle school kids up on the stage, taking roles in the play. But they were not dressed in robes or carrying staffs. Instead they were dressed in casual clothes, and sitting on a couch as though in their own living room. The scene began with a "typical" evening in the home of an El Pasoan family. The pre-teen and teenage kids were getting bored and bummed out that Mom and Dad are so busy all the time. They just want to go to church for Christmas!--is that too much to ask?! (Whatever teenager actually wants to go to church beats me.) As Mom tries to explain to them that they don't have the time, the scene cuts to the next scene, where Dad comes zooming in on a cart-made-car. Shortly behind him, though, is another "car" labeled "Police." He gets pulled over for speeding, but it doesn't take long for the policeman to recognize that this man does not have proper documentation, and with a quick phone call, we soon see the next "car" labeled "Border Patrol" zoom his way over.
Long story short, the man gets detained, his wife gets a phone call informing her of the news, and the family is worried that their father might not be able to spend Christmas with them, but perhaps more worried about the thought of being a separated family for who knows how long with the risk of him being deported.
But this story has a happy ending. The pastor of a friend's church helps the family find a lawyer, and the father is released from detention and allowed to spend Christmas with his family. Now, I wish I could say this story was entirely realistic. The parts including a simple traffic stop becoming a life-changing situation, a man being detained and separated from his family--those are the reality. Being let out of detention in time for Christmas, being able to spend the holidays worry-free--not so much reality.
I do not have much experience with detention centers, or even the process of deportation (my roommates handle those issues). But I have heard enough stories to know that it is NOT an easy process. I have friends, families I work with, neighbors, who live in constant fear. Parents won't send their kids to camp in fear of their child being stopped at a highway checkpoint. Parents won't sign their address on forms. Parents won't call the police to report abuse. All of these spur from the fear of "getting caught."
I don't care whether or not being "undocumented" is a crime... nobody should have to live in such fear.
I can't imagine how Mary and Joseph felt to be rejected as a guest at the inn, how difficult to make a journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem must have been for Mary, a very expectant mother, or even the shame this unwed, pregnant teenager and her caring but confused Joseph must have experienced. But I can imagine those feelings of rejection, fear, and shame filling the lives and minds of the many people struggling to find a place to call "home," a place to be accepted--those crossing borders in search of a "better life." The reality of those we call "undocumented," "illegal," "alien" could be comparable to a wandering couple, looking for a safe place to deliver Hope.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Friday, December 23, 2011
Litany of Non-Violence / Letanía de No-violencia
Provident God, aware of our own brokenness, we ask the gift of courage to identify how and where we are in need of conversion in order to live in solidarity with all Earth's people.
Deliver us from the violence of superiority and disdain. Grant us the desire, and the humility, to listen with special care to those whose experiences and attitudes are different from our own.
Deliver us from the violence of greed and privilege. Grant us the desire, and the will, to live simply so others may have their just share of Earth's resources.
Deliver us from the silence that gives consent to abuse, war and evil. Grant us the desire, and the courage, to risk speaking and acting for the common good.
Deliver us from the violence of irreverence, exploitation and control. Grant us the desire, and the strength, to act responsibly within the cycle of creation.
God of love, mercy and justice, acknowledging our complicity in those attitudes, action and words which perpetuate violence, we beg the grace of non-violent hearts. Amen.
Deliver us from the violence of superiority and disdain. Grant us the desire, and the humility, to listen with special care to those whose experiences and attitudes are different from our own.
Deliver us from the violence of greed and privilege. Grant us the desire, and the will, to live simply so others may have their just share of Earth's resources.
Deliver us from the silence that gives consent to abuse, war and evil. Grant us the desire, and the courage, to risk speaking and acting for the common good.
Deliver us from the violence of irreverence, exploitation and control. Grant us the desire, and the strength, to act responsibly within the cycle of creation.
God of love, mercy and justice, acknowledging our complicity in those attitudes, action and words which perpetuate violence, we beg the grace of non-violent hearts. Amen.
Dios de la Providencia, consciente de mi debilidad,
pido el don de la valentía para poder identificar
cómo y dónde convertirme a fin de vivir
en solidaridad con la tierra y con toda la creación.
pido el don de la valentía para poder identificar
cómo y dónde convertirme a fin de vivir
en solidaridad con la tierra y con toda la creación.
Líbrame de la violencia de superioridad y desprecio.
Concédeme el deseo, y la humildad, para escuchar
con esmero especial a aquellos cuyas experiencias
y actitudes son diferentes de las mías.
Concédeme el deseo, y la humildad, para escuchar
con esmero especial a aquellos cuyas experiencias
y actitudes son diferentes de las mías.
Líbrame de la violencia de la codicia y el privilegio.
Concédeme el deseo, y la voluntad, para vivir
simplemente para que otros tengan lo justo
de los recursos de la tierra.
Concédeme el deseo, y la voluntad, para vivir
simplemente para que otros tengan lo justo
de los recursos de la tierra.
Líbrame del silencio que da consentimiento
al abuso, guerra y maldad.
Concédeme el deseo, y el valor, para arriesgarme
con palabra y obra para el bien común.
al abuso, guerra y maldad.
Concédeme el deseo, y el valor, para arriesgarme
con palabra y obra para el bien común.
Líbrame de la violencia de irreverencia,
explotación y control.
explotación y control.
Concédeme el deseo, y la fuerza, para actuar
con respeto hacia la creación.
con respeto hacia la creación.
Dios amoroso, misericordioso y justo,
reconociendo mi complicidad en estas actitudes,
acciones y palabras que perpetúan violencia,
ruego la gracia de un corazón no-violento. Amén.
reconociendo mi complicidad en estas actitudes,
acciones y palabras que perpetúan violencia,
ruego la gracia de un corazón no-violento. Amén.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
You're the God of this City?
 |
| Ciudad Juarez-El Paso |
My roommates and I look out our front window, astonished at the lightly sprinkled sidewalks of white, reminding us that snow is, indeed, possible in El Paso. It's a chilly, cloudy evening--the beginning of a cold spell of which many people are probably not prepared for. Especially those attempting to find a way to cross the international border from Murder City to Sun City.
Although the majority of my time I do not even think about the fact that I am living minutes away from a city with an average of 5-8 murders a day, it is still a reality. No matter how much I think about the extreme corruption or consider what can be done or listen to a heartbreaking story of loss or look out over the vast city; nothing fights the reality that lives are being lost in the most inhumane ways, for the most unjust reasons, and in the most extreme numbers.
"On the last day of June, bees attack seven people. On the last day of June, a fifty-four-year-old woman pulls into the parking lot of a convenience store after withdrawing eleven thousand pesos from a bank (found on the body) and is shot dead with ten rounds. On the last day of June, a man says his wife and children are missing. On the last day of June, the total number of murders for the month hits 139, and the total for the year reaches 541. Or 543, depending on which paper one reads. The numbers blur now. No one knows how many people have been snatched, nor what became of them. Just as no one knows where to file the corpses from the two houses of death. ... The city is fiestas, dust, cantinas, discos, and people savoring the weekends and dreaming of the nights when love will find them. There is song in the air. The culture of death becomes a life. The slaughtered die fast, the rest grind out time in dust, poverty, and bouts of terror. Only six months ago, everyone was horrified when forty people were slaughtered in one month. Now a hundred a month seems acceptable because in the culture of death. . .life goes on." (Murder City by Charles Bowden)
Welcome to the reality of Ciudad Juarez.
Now, I admit I haven't even visited the city across the border, and I get my information from stories (including the stories in Murder City that I just finished reading). But every story is a bit of reality that I do not understand nor know next to anything about. All I know is that these stories are stories of people--of his fear, of her abuse, of their grief. But among these sad stories, sometimes stories of hope arise.
Recently I have been obsessed with the song "God of this City" (originally recorded by Bluetree). I think this obsession comes from a realization that my perception of the song's lyrics--as well as my perception of God--will never be the same now that I have lived across from a city that seems to live in the midst of so much evil, ungodliness, despair--whatever you want to call it.
You're the God of this city,
You're the King of these people,
You're the Lord of this nation,
You are.
You're the Light of this darkness,
You're the Hope to the hopeless,
You're the Peace to the restless,
You are.
When eight lives are being lost every twenty-four hours, how can one still hold the belief that God is present in Ciudad Juarez? In a city with so much darkness, hopelessness, and restlessness, where do we find this God?
I appreciate this song because it captures the huge extent of who our God is. God is not some external being that does not give a shit about what is happening to the people of Juarez; God is revealed in the situations where light, hope, and peace overcome. "Yes, God is real, intensely real, for me, but God is not a being--external, supernatural, or theistic--to whom I seek access. God is rather a presence discovered in the very depths of my life, in the capacity to live, in the ability to love, and in the courage to be." (John Shelby Spong) I cannot explain why God would allow so much violence and corruption to happen, or so many lives to be lost--if I could explain, well, then I'd be God. But from what I know and what I've experienced, I have at least discovered that the God I believe in is a God who brings about life in situations of death. And in Murder City, death surrounds everyone and everything. Although life overcoming death might be rare, it is not impossible.
If we want to live lives that reflect the Divine, then we will join God in the quest for Redemption. I don't know how to end the violence in Juarez, and I have had conversations about how hopeless the situation seems to be. The culture of the city is death. The police, the government, the army--all are corrupt. Hardly ever can you find someone in power who is not part of the corruption. So what will happen? Will everyone flee? I doubt it, considering the very low numbers of migrants who receive the "pass" to actually be in the states legally. Will the murders continue happening--decrease, increase? Will hope be restored?
For there is no one like our God.
There is no one like you, God.
We cannot answer these questions. But we can still live out Redemption in our own way. Even though the work that I do--hanging out with middle schoolers, attempting to give them meaning, hope, and joy--will not bring about Redemption for the world, or even for Juarez, I can still allow the Divine to work through me and bring some sort of strength, love, and joy within my own reality and the realities of the people I am in relationship with.
I still have hope for this city. Even if its problems are far too big for me to comprehend. And even if my hope is too impractical to explain.
Greater things have yet to come,
And greater things are still to be done in this city.
Greater things are yet to come,
And greater things are still to be done here.
 |
| El Paso-Juarez |
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Seeking to embody the Gospel
I realized that I have not really shared much about my placement site, Ciudad Nueva Community Outreach...so please visit the website at http://ciudadnueva.org/Site/Home.html. The site has some updating needed, but I finally watched the entire video on the home page and was reminded of our mission and purpose of dealing with usually rowdy, rude, and difficult-to-handle youth. What a blessing each and every kid is. Watch the video, and learn about this great ministry that looks beyond language differences, rude comments, economic status, past histories, family reputations...and sees these kids as human beings like the rest of us.
Monday, November 7, 2011
We are kingdom builders.
"Never again will they hunger;
never again will they thirst.
The sun will not beat down on them,
Friday night I had the great privilege of attending an awards banquet/fundraiser for my housemate's work site, Las Americas Immigrant Advocacy Center. Among the awards received that night was one for an "outstanding volunteer" given to a beautiful Catholic sister who volunteers a lot of her time at Las Americas.
In the middle of her being commended for the countless hours she spends at the detention center, where she listens to unbelievable stories of those who have crossed the border and relays them back to the office, the life-giving words of her "acceptance speech" moved me.
Even though Las Americas is not religiously affiliated, and we were sitting in the social hall of a Jewish temple, she was not afraid to voice her faith. Actually, I think she could not have said one word without voicing her faith--it radiated from her. Her words struck me as truth as she proclaimed, "We are kingdom builders."
The type of kingdom building the sister was talking about has nothing to do with "saving souls" or with adding another tally mark to the list of lost souls saved in your church's registry. The type of kingdom she was talking about was a kingdom that fully incorporates every earthly and bodily aspect, as well as every emotional and spiritual aspect of the world. A kingdom that will fully transform our world, but a kingdom that can only come about with our active participation.
Jesus constantly spoke of the "kingdom of God" throughout his ministry. But I feel that too many Christians hold a narrow view of this "kingdom" as some mysterious, in-the-clouds thing. The kingdom is often defined as the future state of the earth (and all the universe) that will come with the second coming of Christ. But this definition, I fear, has led many Christians into apathetic lives that distance themselves from the here-and-now world. If the coming of Christ is the only way to bring about this kingdom, then what do we need to do besides wait for that to happen? With their focus on what's to come, many Christians preach an exclusive message that is solely focused on a future kingdom and fail to recognize the kingdom-less reality of the world around them.
In my class, we have been talking about having a "reformational worldview"--one that captures all three Creation, Fall, and Redemption. I have learned a good point while talking about this three-fold view: if we (humans) were called to be co-creators (God gave Adam privileges of continuing the Creation process by naming the animals, tilling the earth, multiplying) and we were the primary actors in the Fall, then why won't we be co-redeemers or even primary actors in the Redemption of our world? We as Christians cannot deny the idea that Christ is the only one who can fully redeem creation, but who says Christ is going to do it alone?
We are living in a world of "already, but not yet." Christ has already come once--giving us forgiveness of sins and a promise of eternal life. But the new "kingdom" he often spoke of has yet to arrive. I believe that Christ is calling us to be "kingdom builders" in our world...helping to co-redeem this lost and fallen world. Through our work, our words, our relationships, our passions, our hands, our peacemaking...we are kingdom builders, living by the hope of a Christ who has already promised eternity. Now we get the responsibility to make this world our own by joining Him in these efforts of building this kingdom where "God will wipe away every tear from their eyes." Even though we cannot do it all, we can still do something to make God's kingdom come.
"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven..."
never again will they thirst.
The sun will not beat down on them,
nor any scorching heat.
For the Lamb at the center of the throne
will be their shepherd;
He will lead them to springs of living water.
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’"
(Revelation 7:16-17)
For the Lamb at the center of the throne
will be their shepherd;
He will lead them to springs of living water.
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’"
(Revelation 7:16-17)
Friday night I had the great privilege of attending an awards banquet/fundraiser for my housemate's work site, Las Americas Immigrant Advocacy Center. Among the awards received that night was one for an "outstanding volunteer" given to a beautiful Catholic sister who volunteers a lot of her time at Las Americas.
In the middle of her being commended for the countless hours she spends at the detention center, where she listens to unbelievable stories of those who have crossed the border and relays them back to the office, the life-giving words of her "acceptance speech" moved me.
Even though Las Americas is not religiously affiliated, and we were sitting in the social hall of a Jewish temple, she was not afraid to voice her faith. Actually, I think she could not have said one word without voicing her faith--it radiated from her. Her words struck me as truth as she proclaimed, "We are kingdom builders."
The type of kingdom building the sister was talking about has nothing to do with "saving souls" or with adding another tally mark to the list of lost souls saved in your church's registry. The type of kingdom she was talking about was a kingdom that fully incorporates every earthly and bodily aspect, as well as every emotional and spiritual aspect of the world. A kingdom that will fully transform our world, but a kingdom that can only come about with our active participation.
Jesus constantly spoke of the "kingdom of God" throughout his ministry. But I feel that too many Christians hold a narrow view of this "kingdom" as some mysterious, in-the-clouds thing. The kingdom is often defined as the future state of the earth (and all the universe) that will come with the second coming of Christ. But this definition, I fear, has led many Christians into apathetic lives that distance themselves from the here-and-now world. If the coming of Christ is the only way to bring about this kingdom, then what do we need to do besides wait for that to happen? With their focus on what's to come, many Christians preach an exclusive message that is solely focused on a future kingdom and fail to recognize the kingdom-less reality of the world around them.
In my class, we have been talking about having a "reformational worldview"--one that captures all three Creation, Fall, and Redemption. I have learned a good point while talking about this three-fold view: if we (humans) were called to be co-creators (God gave Adam privileges of continuing the Creation process by naming the animals, tilling the earth, multiplying) and we were the primary actors in the Fall, then why won't we be co-redeemers or even primary actors in the Redemption of our world? We as Christians cannot deny the idea that Christ is the only one who can fully redeem creation, but who says Christ is going to do it alone?
We are living in a world of "already, but not yet." Christ has already come once--giving us forgiveness of sins and a promise of eternal life. But the new "kingdom" he often spoke of has yet to arrive. I believe that Christ is calling us to be "kingdom builders" in our world...helping to co-redeem this lost and fallen world. Through our work, our words, our relationships, our passions, our hands, our peacemaking...we are kingdom builders, living by the hope of a Christ who has already promised eternity. Now we get the responsibility to make this world our own by joining Him in these efforts of building this kingdom where "God will wipe away every tear from their eyes." Even though we cannot do it all, we can still do something to make God's kingdom come.
"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven..."
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Reality Check on this Dia de los Muertos
October 26:
October 24:
Even living on the border, it is easy to forget just how many lives are being lost just across the border. Stories of shoot-outs and kidnappings still shock me, but the stats are often just numbers. Daily I receive emails from a research librarian at NMSU on her mass email list called the "frontera list"--compiled of translations and summaries of the day's headlines of the border violence. Recently they have included summaries such as those listed above.
It's not until I hear a personal story of suffering that it hits me again. I couldn't imagine working in some of the places my roommates work in--especially the one who often tells us of the stories her clients share--witnessing extreme decapitation of loved ones, fearing the risk of being killed if they don't receive asylum in the states, experiencing being trafficked...things that I could never imagine having the strength to listen to. It takes a level of de-sensitization, she explains to us, to be able to go to work everyday...or else she would just get swept up in the intense emotions and not be able to serve the clients who bring these stories.
I've heard stories of our after-school kids who have witnessed shoot-outs, been in the presence of loved ones dying, had relatives commit suicide, had parents murdered... The stories horrify me. But like my roommate, if I were to dwell on those stories, we would make no progress. But in no way do we forget the stories or the loved ones...
At this time of the year, the Mexican population is celebrating el Dia de los Muertos--the Day of the Dead. A day during which we take time to remember and honor those who have passed. On the border, it's obviously more than just lighting candles, preparing flowers, and eating special bread...it's also a reminder of the horrific circumstances surrounding how loved ones have died. How painful it must be for someone who has lost a friend, a brother, a parent, or a child to violence that is attributed to political corruption, situations of poverty, and many more avoidable consequences due to the actions taken in response to drug trade issues.
"The combination of a failed immigration system in the U.S. and unaccountable violence in Mexico has shown itself to be a deadly one for migrants. There has been a surge in the last two years of immigrants in the U.S. being deported to Mexico -- often with terrible consequences. Not only are they separated from their families, but many are killed in Mexico due to the corruption and the Mexican government's failure to provide institutional protection from violence." (Border Network for Human Rights Dia de los Muertos event page)
An excellent story that connects a personal story of a rather wealthy Mexican to the larger issues of the border: http://www.texasobserver.org/cover-story/no-safe-place
"Confronted with knowledge of dozens of apparently random disasters each day, what can a human heart do but slam its doors? No mortal can grieve that much. We didn't evolve to cope with tragedy on a global scale. Our defense is to pretend there's no thread of event that connects us, and that those lives are somehow not precious and real like our own. It's a practical strategy, to some ends, but the loss of empathy is also the loss of humanity, and that's no small tradeoff." (High Tide in Tucson by Barbara Kingsolver)
"At least 2 people were killed on Monday in Juarez. Yesterday, the murder toll was at least 6--four men were killed, dismembered and decapitated and their body parts scattered around the city... In addition, a municipal policeman was killed and a man running a quesadilla shot were also victims of homicide. Diario reported the death toll as of Sunday at 113, so it is now at least 121, not counting the deaths reported today.
There have been several shocking incidents. A 5 yr old boy was injured in an attack that killed his father while the man was sleeping in his house... A pregnant woman is killed, the fetus taken from her body and then she is burned alive... A teenage boy confesses to murdering his sick parents to relieve them of their suffering..."
October 24:
"Here's my best effort at a summary of the people murdered since Friday
October 14:One murder on October 14
October 15 and 16: no murders, but 3 bodies found in the Valle de Juarez
October 17: 4 murders
October 18: Another day without a homicide
October 19: 5 homicides
October 20: 4 people assassinated
October 21: 5 people murdered
October 22: 3 executed
October 23: 9 people killed, one decapitated...
According to my tally, the total for the month of October is now about 109, an average of about 5 people per day this month. For the year, 1,709--an average of 5.7 people per day, and since January 2008, the total number of people killed in Juarez is at least 9,708..."
Even living on the border, it is easy to forget just how many lives are being lost just across the border. Stories of shoot-outs and kidnappings still shock me, but the stats are often just numbers. Daily I receive emails from a research librarian at NMSU on her mass email list called the "frontera list"--compiled of translations and summaries of the day's headlines of the border violence. Recently they have included summaries such as those listed above.
It's not until I hear a personal story of suffering that it hits me again. I couldn't imagine working in some of the places my roommates work in--especially the one who often tells us of the stories her clients share--witnessing extreme decapitation of loved ones, fearing the risk of being killed if they don't receive asylum in the states, experiencing being trafficked...things that I could never imagine having the strength to listen to. It takes a level of de-sensitization, she explains to us, to be able to go to work everyday...or else she would just get swept up in the intense emotions and not be able to serve the clients who bring these stories.
I've heard stories of our after-school kids who have witnessed shoot-outs, been in the presence of loved ones dying, had relatives commit suicide, had parents murdered... The stories horrify me. But like my roommate, if I were to dwell on those stories, we would make no progress. But in no way do we forget the stories or the loved ones...
At this time of the year, the Mexican population is celebrating el Dia de los Muertos--the Day of the Dead. A day during which we take time to remember and honor those who have passed. On the border, it's obviously more than just lighting candles, preparing flowers, and eating special bread...it's also a reminder of the horrific circumstances surrounding how loved ones have died. How painful it must be for someone who has lost a friend, a brother, a parent, or a child to violence that is attributed to political corruption, situations of poverty, and many more avoidable consequences due to the actions taken in response to drug trade issues.
"The combination of a failed immigration system in the U.S. and unaccountable violence in Mexico has shown itself to be a deadly one for migrants. There has been a surge in the last two years of immigrants in the U.S. being deported to Mexico -- often with terrible consequences. Not only are they separated from their families, but many are killed in Mexico due to the corruption and the Mexican government's failure to provide institutional protection from violence." (Border Network for Human Rights Dia de los Muertos event page)
An excellent story that connects a personal story of a rather wealthy Mexican to the larger issues of the border: http://www.texasobserver.org/cover-story/no-safe-place
"Confronted with knowledge of dozens of apparently random disasters each day, what can a human heart do but slam its doors? No mortal can grieve that much. We didn't evolve to cope with tragedy on a global scale. Our defense is to pretend there's no thread of event that connects us, and that those lives are somehow not precious and real like our own. It's a practical strategy, to some ends, but the loss of empathy is also the loss of humanity, and that's no small tradeoff." (High Tide in Tucson by Barbara Kingsolver)
Friday, October 21, 2011
"I come here fearless."
I've visited the border fence at Anapra a few times. I've never seen nuns throwing stuff over the fence, but I admire their boldness! Check it out...
http://www.catholicnews.com/data/stories/cns/1104113.htm
http://www.catholicnews.com/data/stories/cns/1104113.htm
Sunday, October 16, 2011
A conversation with a rap-obsessed boy.
At the after-school program I work with, we always begin our day with an hour of homework time as soon as we pick up the kids from school. On Thursday, we had a significantly smaller number of kids at homework time. Although we usually turn up 12-20 kids, Thursday we had a whopping six. The three of us on staff took a surprised yet relieved sigh as we walked into the room to find such fewer students. We looked forward to a relaxing hour filled with calmness rather than the chaos of trying to get all the kids to work on homework, to make sure none of them wander out of the room, and to give as many of them the tutoring they need.
But Thursday, since our ratio was 2:1 students to staff, I had the chance to sit down with one of our middle school boys and just chat with him as others in the room joined in their own conversations or projects and homework. This boy is one of the many that I usually drive home after daily programming. He is a great kid, who is rarely without a smile on his face. He's very helpful, talkative, and fun to be around. But he is also the one who most enjoys "singing" raps in the van-ride home...despite the cuss words and inappropriateness in the raps, which bother me quite a bit, especially since there are often younger kids in the van. I tell him to stop, threaten to not let him in the van anymore; but like any typical middle school boy, he finds it funny that I am so offended by his raps and continues on rapping. He is also one of our students who never brings homework to homework time. When we tell him to find something to work on, he pulls out folded up pieces of lined paper, filled with penciled words of raps he has written. "Miss, will you read this?" he asks me as he hands his most recent work. I get to the second line, where the first f-bomb is dropped, and I hand the paper back to him. "Dude, you know I don't wanna read this!"
But Thursday I sat down with him and listened to him for more than twenty minutes tell me all about his idols: Lil' Wayne, Eminem, 2Pac...among other rappers. Folks that I know nothing about--I don't listen to rap at all, especially rap full of swearing or violent and sexual images, and I just have never been interested. (I just looked up 2Pac on wikipedia because I didn't know how to spell his name.) But the extent of this boy's knowledge about these celebrities was fascinating! He knew people they had married or seen, how they had died, when they went to rehab, how their lives were reflected in their music...it was astonishing. So I sat and listened as I learned about these rappers who before, all I knew was their name and that they were rap artists. These celebrities are who he looks up to, who he admires, who he strives to be like. But these celebrities' lives are full of drug-use, suicide attempts and attempted homicide, sexual abuse...is this who we want our middle schoolers to be looking up to?
But that's not the end of the story. After being given summaries of the rappers' lives, he once again pulled out his papers (this time, ALL his papers--more than 20 raps!) and began telling me about how he writes them and what kinds of raps he writes. But this time instead of the daily question of, "Miss, will you read this?" I asked him, "Can I read one?"
This time my eyes went past the cuss words and my heart penetrated the emotional and deep content in his raps. Feelings of loneliness, anger, frustration, but mostly--confusion, filled the pages. Every rap was one long run-on sentence with no spaces, no room for pause. For the first time, I realized that his raps were his outlet for his emotions.
During this time, this middle school boy also told me why he never does his homework at our program. "I do my homework at home. When you drop me off, my mom still isn't home, so I have the peace and quiet to do my homework. Every day I go home, I do homework, I eat, I go to bed...every day." Unlike other kids, there is no time in his schedule to hang out with friends or family. I finally learned that his raps and fascination with rap are way more than just an off-to-the-side hobby...they give him life.
For this boy, rap is his outlet. It is his friend. It is his passion. Now, do I continue getting frustrated with the cussing and the violent images...or do I respect his passion and seek to understand it more?
God bless this boy.
But Thursday, since our ratio was 2:1 students to staff, I had the chance to sit down with one of our middle school boys and just chat with him as others in the room joined in their own conversations or projects and homework. This boy is one of the many that I usually drive home after daily programming. He is a great kid, who is rarely without a smile on his face. He's very helpful, talkative, and fun to be around. But he is also the one who most enjoys "singing" raps in the van-ride home...despite the cuss words and inappropriateness in the raps, which bother me quite a bit, especially since there are often younger kids in the van. I tell him to stop, threaten to not let him in the van anymore; but like any typical middle school boy, he finds it funny that I am so offended by his raps and continues on rapping. He is also one of our students who never brings homework to homework time. When we tell him to find something to work on, he pulls out folded up pieces of lined paper, filled with penciled words of raps he has written. "Miss, will you read this?" he asks me as he hands his most recent work. I get to the second line, where the first f-bomb is dropped, and I hand the paper back to him. "Dude, you know I don't wanna read this!"
But Thursday I sat down with him and listened to him for more than twenty minutes tell me all about his idols: Lil' Wayne, Eminem, 2Pac...among other rappers. Folks that I know nothing about--I don't listen to rap at all, especially rap full of swearing or violent and sexual images, and I just have never been interested. (I just looked up 2Pac on wikipedia because I didn't know how to spell his name.) But the extent of this boy's knowledge about these celebrities was fascinating! He knew people they had married or seen, how they had died, when they went to rehab, how their lives were reflected in their music...it was astonishing. So I sat and listened as I learned about these rappers who before, all I knew was their name and that they were rap artists. These celebrities are who he looks up to, who he admires, who he strives to be like. But these celebrities' lives are full of drug-use, suicide attempts and attempted homicide, sexual abuse...is this who we want our middle schoolers to be looking up to?
But that's not the end of the story. After being given summaries of the rappers' lives, he once again pulled out his papers (this time, ALL his papers--more than 20 raps!) and began telling me about how he writes them and what kinds of raps he writes. But this time instead of the daily question of, "Miss, will you read this?" I asked him, "Can I read one?"
This time my eyes went past the cuss words and my heart penetrated the emotional and deep content in his raps. Feelings of loneliness, anger, frustration, but mostly--confusion, filled the pages. Every rap was one long run-on sentence with no spaces, no room for pause. For the first time, I realized that his raps were his outlet for his emotions.
During this time, this middle school boy also told me why he never does his homework at our program. "I do my homework at home. When you drop me off, my mom still isn't home, so I have the peace and quiet to do my homework. Every day I go home, I do homework, I eat, I go to bed...every day." Unlike other kids, there is no time in his schedule to hang out with friends or family. I finally learned that his raps and fascination with rap are way more than just an off-to-the-side hobby...they give him life.
For this boy, rap is his outlet. It is his friend. It is his passion. Now, do I continue getting frustrated with the cussing and the violent images...or do I respect his passion and seek to understand it more?
God bless this boy.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Spanglish.
If I were to describe El Paso in one word, it might be "Spanglish." Everywhere I go, I hear a unique blend of Spanish and English. At work with the Middle Schoolers it happens all the time:
"Pero Miss, no tengo homework."
"Miss, can I have a boli?"
"Donde estan su shoes?"
"Miss, can I use your telefono?"
"Miss, puedo tener tu phone?"
Almost every conversation with the kids is an exchange of two languages, and I'm finding that even though all the youth know English, some choose not to use it or seem not very comfortable speaking English. So our conversations are a fun mix. :)
I can also see a mix of Mexico and Texas when bringing the youth home at the end of the day. One minute, I will be dropping off kids near Segundo Barrio, where all the shops and houses have signs in Spanish, and the neighborhood reminds me of my time in Central America and looks more like what I see when I look south of the border fence. But then a kid will need to be dropped off a few miles north of downtown, in a neighborhood that looks like a middle-class neighborhood in the Midwest, with generously sized houses, trees (but not much grass), wider roads with curbs, and not a word in Spanish.
But the mixture of language is just one aspect of the unique culture you can find here in El Paso. I have never been to any place like the Borderland--not only am I in a place where two nations share a border, but also where two languages dance, multiple cultures clash, many economic classes reside, and the river meets desert meets mountains.
Living and working in this unique border culture has been super fascinating for me. I'm sure I'll be sharing more about this in future posts. But for now, I look forward to continue learning a new language.
Local radio stations are perhaps the best source for a mix of language. The song "Tengo Tu Love" has been on quite a bit, and it is the perfect example of Spanglish...
Yo tengo tu amor
I got your love
Yo tengo tu amor
Yo tengo tu love.
"Pero Miss, no tengo homework."
"Miss, can I have a boli?"
"Donde estan su shoes?"
"Miss, can I use your telefono?"
"Miss, puedo tener tu phone?"
Almost every conversation with the kids is an exchange of two languages, and I'm finding that even though all the youth know English, some choose not to use it or seem not very comfortable speaking English. So our conversations are a fun mix. :)
I can also see a mix of Mexico and Texas when bringing the youth home at the end of the day. One minute, I will be dropping off kids near Segundo Barrio, where all the shops and houses have signs in Spanish, and the neighborhood reminds me of my time in Central America and looks more like what I see when I look south of the border fence. But then a kid will need to be dropped off a few miles north of downtown, in a neighborhood that looks like a middle-class neighborhood in the Midwest, with generously sized houses, trees (but not much grass), wider roads with curbs, and not a word in Spanish.
But the mixture of language is just one aspect of the unique culture you can find here in El Paso. I have never been to any place like the Borderland--not only am I in a place where two nations share a border, but also where two languages dance, multiple cultures clash, many economic classes reside, and the river meets desert meets mountains.
Living and working in this unique border culture has been super fascinating for me. I'm sure I'll be sharing more about this in future posts. But for now, I look forward to continue learning a new language.
Local radio stations are perhaps the best source for a mix of language. The song "Tengo Tu Love" has been on quite a bit, and it is the perfect example of Spanglish...
Yo tengo tu amor
I got your love
Yo tengo tu amor
Yo tengo tu love.
If you're not a Spanish speaker, check out the video and see how many words you can recognize. :)
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Thinking about money...
I love concerts. In the past five or so years of my life, I have spent hundreds of dollars on tickets, gas, and meals to go to shows and many many hours with friends attending and driving to and from those shows. I absolutely love the environment of live music being shared by a talented group of people--Christian or secular, indoor or outdoor, metal or acoustic. It would never take me long to fork out the $10-40 for a ticket and drive over three hours to get to a concert.
I have driven many miles to see one of my favorite bands, Sanctus Real, perform and I have spent many hours waiting at shows to maintain my spot in the front row at music festivals. Every time I heard that they were going to be anywhere in the Midwest, I began my research, purchased tickets, and cleared my schedule to make sure I could be there. Moving down here to Texas, I was bummed I would miss their performances at LifeLight and other shows in the tri-state area...until I found out they were coming to El Paso! I was SO excited that I'd have the chance to see them again.
So Sanctus Real played here in El Paso last week...but I didn't go.
After the initial excitement wore off, I started thinking more about the show and its $25 ticket. They were playing with Casting Crowns, so this was probably a pretty reasonable ticket price. But for a few days, I just couldn't bring myself to buy a ticket. I kept thinking about how this $25 was one-fourth my stipend for a month, and what else I could spend that money on or save it. I'd also have to miss a night of YoungLife...which wouldn't have been a big deal, considering we often have as many leaders as we do youth attend. But instead of worshiping with my hands raised to the "Face of Love" or "I'm Not Alright" that night, I worshiped with my arms around our high schoolers, swaying back and forth and singing as loud as we could to "Stand by Me."
Many people I know would not see my refusal to the concert as a big deal. But for me, it is kinda a big deal. Being at concerts have been some of the most joyful moments of my life. I think my decision to not attend demonstrates how much I am already changing from my experience here on the border. Even just a month ago or so, some three weeks into the program, I willingly and excitedly spent $40 for an Avett Brothers concert here in El Paso next month. I don't regret my purchase and I am very excited for the show, but the extent of thought that I put into buying that ticket was way less than the Sanctus Real ticket.
I don't want pity for not having much money or want to put myself up on a stand, saying "look at me and how much I am sacrificing because I'm poor!" But I live and work around so many people that come from families that just don't have the option to make a purchase without giving much much thought into it. On the other hand, I also work with many who have a family member who doesn't think twice about spending money on things like alcohol. I have never been good with money and I never really think about finances ever...but I am learning that the less money you have, the more you think about it. (Unless you're an addict.)
I am blessed to be earning no salary. I am blessed to have rent and utilities taken care of. I am blessed to be missing out on fun experiences to spend time with confused teenagers. I am blessed to have to think twice or three times about spending $6 on a coffee and bagel...sometimes giving in (like now) and sometimes deciding it's not worth it. I am blessed to be living in a community where we take a lot of time to consider our financial situation before buying groceries or making other purchases. I am blessed with the ability to feel blessed despite my economic situation, and to recognize that life for me is still very, very comfortable.
As I sit at a small table in Kinley's with my bagel and coffee, I wonder how comfortable the man sitting outside my window is...I mean, having to beg for money from folks sitting outside a coffee shop, how comfortable can he be?
I have driven many miles to see one of my favorite bands, Sanctus Real, perform and I have spent many hours waiting at shows to maintain my spot in the front row at music festivals. Every time I heard that they were going to be anywhere in the Midwest, I began my research, purchased tickets, and cleared my schedule to make sure I could be there. Moving down here to Texas, I was bummed I would miss their performances at LifeLight and other shows in the tri-state area...until I found out they were coming to El Paso! I was SO excited that I'd have the chance to see them again.
So Sanctus Real played here in El Paso last week...but I didn't go.
After the initial excitement wore off, I started thinking more about the show and its $25 ticket. They were playing with Casting Crowns, so this was probably a pretty reasonable ticket price. But for a few days, I just couldn't bring myself to buy a ticket. I kept thinking about how this $25 was one-fourth my stipend for a month, and what else I could spend that money on or save it. I'd also have to miss a night of YoungLife...which wouldn't have been a big deal, considering we often have as many leaders as we do youth attend. But instead of worshiping with my hands raised to the "Face of Love" or "I'm Not Alright" that night, I worshiped with my arms around our high schoolers, swaying back and forth and singing as loud as we could to "Stand by Me."
Many people I know would not see my refusal to the concert as a big deal. But for me, it is kinda a big deal. Being at concerts have been some of the most joyful moments of my life. I think my decision to not attend demonstrates how much I am already changing from my experience here on the border. Even just a month ago or so, some three weeks into the program, I willingly and excitedly spent $40 for an Avett Brothers concert here in El Paso next month. I don't regret my purchase and I am very excited for the show, but the extent of thought that I put into buying that ticket was way less than the Sanctus Real ticket.
I don't want pity for not having much money or want to put myself up on a stand, saying "look at me and how much I am sacrificing because I'm poor!" But I live and work around so many people that come from families that just don't have the option to make a purchase without giving much much thought into it. On the other hand, I also work with many who have a family member who doesn't think twice about spending money on things like alcohol. I have never been good with money and I never really think about finances ever...but I am learning that the less money you have, the more you think about it. (Unless you're an addict.)
I am blessed to be earning no salary. I am blessed to have rent and utilities taken care of. I am blessed to be missing out on fun experiences to spend time with confused teenagers. I am blessed to have to think twice or three times about spending $6 on a coffee and bagel...sometimes giving in (like now) and sometimes deciding it's not worth it. I am blessed to be living in a community where we take a lot of time to consider our financial situation before buying groceries or making other purchases. I am blessed with the ability to feel blessed despite my economic situation, and to recognize that life for me is still very, very comfortable.
As I sit at a small table in Kinley's with my bagel and coffee, I wonder how comfortable the man sitting outside my window is...I mean, having to beg for money from folks sitting outside a coffee shop, how comfortable can he be?
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