In many ways, I returned to Amate to bring a little continuity to my life. Ever since I left home for college, I've been moving around constantly to new dorms, cities, etc. In some ways, I thought Amate would be a comfortable option. It didn't exactly work like that.
The biggest shock has definitely been my new housemates. As much as I attempted to prepare myself, I wasn't ready to meet 10 new people and immediately put them into a central role in my life. Forming a new community is very similar to breaking up with your significant other and begin dating other people. You sit at the dinner table with new people and know that this person will soon hold a very dear place in your life--however, that is just not the case quite yet. It is even more challenging considering your ex-girlfriend (1st community) lives in Chicago and you really didn't break up for good. Whenever I see Jessie or Jen in other communities, we exchange pained looks. It's a rough transition.
Work hasn't been an easy transition either. The first day was wonderful: it was like returning home to a family of wonderful people working so hard for others. However, we've had major budget issues over the summer, and it's very strange to see someone else in my desk.
Despite my whining, I'm excited to be back. I ultimately returned because I needed one more year for personal growth. I felt I learned a lot about the world last year, and I'd like to spend this year learning more about myself. I also have a new goal: hope.
We met for orientation to discuss "social justice." Social justice, to me, is a the "sexy" issue in the church right now. It attracts a peculiar group of people--activists. The ideas are inflaming due to the extreme possibilities of large-scale restructuring. We wouldn't need a Kovler Center if mental health facilities were freely offered to anyone and immigration reform addressed the hardships our clients face. Last year brought about a major setback, however. Without getting too political, I felt betrayed by the new Health Care Law. I voted for Obama almost entirely because he was striving to implement major reforms in our health care system. There was talk about a public option and health insurance for all. Unfortunately, the very first thing to go was health insurance for undocumented immigrants (aka my clients). Afterwards went the public option, and we were left with an ugly, complicated system that basically helped the insurance companies more than the American people. Power mobilized to help the people helped those already with power and money.
Dad, I now understand why you are a conservative. I still think the Republicans are just as bad though, ;)
So I went through my "fake Catholic Worker" stage next. I obsessed over the notion of individual and personal justice. Want to help the poor--invite them into your home. Don't rely on large structures to solve your problems. I began to read Stanley Hauerwaus and Shane Clairborne but only on a very shallow level. I realized I wanted to live the philosophies of Dorothy Day, but I had never ever read her works. In reality, she does want us to work on the smaller scales but not to ignore large scales. She constantly practiced civil disobedience against unjust structures. It was more nuanced than I was willing to admit.
Taking my fake philosophy to its extreme means to have no hope. To think that political structures will side against the poor is (sadly) realistic, but it doesn't always have to be like that. England left India after Gandhi and the Civil Rights Legislation was passed after the heroic work of MLK Jr. However, is racism dead? Of course not. It's about a balance and to always strive for hope that things can be better while remembering:
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation
in realizing that. This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well. It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
Amen, Oscar Romero.
Here's to my second year! May God bless it with prayer, service, community, and above all--hope.