Love Your Neighbor Like Yourself

I am finding it more and more rare that my clients will really open up about their HIV or AIDS diagnosis. They tell me just about everything - struggles with family, substance abuse, and mental health; struggles financially - but when it comes to HIV, it goes un-talked about. I found myself completely caught off guard on Thursday when a couple I had never met before came into the pantry and the husband, a little Hispanic man from NYC, all of a sudden started telling me about his life and the 20 years he has been living with this diagnosis. He began to tell me that he a recovering IV drug user, and that when he lived in NYC, he would do just about anything to get high. I was surprised when he said that he was fully aware that he could get HIV by sharing needles, but sometimes the fear of becoming infected was overshadowed by the need to get high. One day when he was feeling desperate to shoot up, his cousin gave him the needle that he'd just used. He rinsed it under water until it did not seem like any blood remained from the previous user, and he used that same needle to get high.

Not long after that, he found out that his cousin was HIV+, so he went to get tested. Turns out that his cousin had known all along that he had HIV, but did not bother to tell my client. I was dumbfounded, so confused about how someone could put someone they love in clear danger. How can anyone knowingly infect someone else with a virus that will not only affect them for the rest of their lives, but has the potential to kill them?  I've been thinking a lot about what love means and why I feel so called to love each person I encounter regardless of who they are, where they've been, or what they've done.

I've always remembered the passage in the Gospel of Matthew when Jesus says the two most important commandments are to love God with all your heart, soul and mind, and to love your neighbor like yourself. Jesus calls us to love each other, to respect each other's dignity, to embrace difference, to treat others like we ourselves would like to be treated. In reflecting on this passage of scripture the other night with my wonderful community, I started to wonder if these verses are what have informed my compassion throughout my life. I quickly realized that there was no way that it was scripture that sparked compassion inside of me, but that it is scripture and liberation theology in particular that continue to inform my love for the human race. My experiences growing up in East Hartford are what sparked my understanding of suffering, injustice, and pain. Hearing the stories of friends I had growing up and their struggles growing up in poverty, surrounded by violence and drugs - that's when I first experienced compassion.

It is because of those initial experiences with friends growing up that I become frustrated when people express such hatred for others or when people are judged by others because they are marginalized in some way. What good does it do the world if we all frown down upon those suffering from injustice? What kind of world do we create when we judge others based on appearance, sexual orientation, criminal record, or HIV status? Take that one step further: what are we saying to those who are infected or affected by HIV when we don't use condoms or clean needles and put ourselves at risk?

After writing my senior thesis, "HIV and the Sexual Practices of Fordham Students," I noticed that even though many students I spoke with were very educated about HIV and risk factors for becoming infected, that did not make them more likely to protect themselves. They talked more about fear of unwanted pregnancy than of becoming infected with STDs, especially HIV. It seemed as though HIV/AIDS was a taboo topic to discuss. I have been working with a 22-year old client a lot in the past few weeks. He is 12 days older than me and became infected with HIV because he got caught up in the moment and did not use protection. I think so much about my friends in college and the conversations I would have with them about sex. There was this general feeling of invincibility, like HIV could not happen to them, even though they were sleeping around.

For the past three years, after the amazing experience I had in Nashville in 2008 working with Nashville CARES, I promised myself that I would do everything I could to educate others about HIV/AIDS and how to protect themselves and their partners from infection. Since the day that Greg told us that he was HIV+, I promised that I would fight to see this epidemic be brought to an end - not for my safety or for that of my friends; but for the sake of each and every individual I have met in my life who is living with HIV or has been affected by it. My kids at Incarnation Children's Center, the men and women in Nashville, my clients here in Raleigh, the awesome guys I worked with at CARC in Hartford. We must love our neighbor like we love ourselves. Do you want to become infected with HIV? I'm guessing the answer is no. So why do we constantly put ourselves and others at risk? What role does love for humanity play in this? If we just stopped and focused on the common good rather than on selfishness, greed, and power - we could experience a love so close to what God's love for us must be like. We could create a better world based on peace and justice.

The world would be better off
if people tried to become better,
and people would be better
if they stopped trying to become better off.
For when everyone tries to become better off,
nobody is better off.
But when everyone tries to become better
everyone is better off.
Everyone would be rich
if nobody tried to become richer,
and nobody would be poor
if everyone tried to be the poorest.
And everybody would be what he ought to be
if everybody tried to be
what he wants the other fellow to be.

-Peter Maurin's "The Case for Utopia"-

Not One Step Back

It has been another beautiful weekend here in Raleigh, and the coming week's forecast is beautiful. Saturday brought about one of the most powerful days of my life as I joined up with hundreds of people for the annual HKonJ march and rally. HKonJ - Historic Thousand on Jones St - is a march and rally for justice organized by the North Carolina NAACP with 90 partner organizations and agencies. It began five years ago as a movement to encourage the state legislature to make change and to promote justice for all people. It's main purpose is to advocate for a 14 point People's Agenda that includes points such as quality education for all children; livable wages for all workers; health care for all; reforming the prison system; protecting the rights of immigrants; etc. (See http://www.hkonj.com/ for more).

The rally started outside Shaw University, the very location where the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee was founded decades ago. People were coming on the stage to pump everyone up, reminding us that we were here to move forward together, and not take one step back. I saw people of all ages, all races, all genders, standing side by side, fighting together for change; fighting together for justice and peace in our world. There was so much energy in the crowd - an energy fueled by a passion for justice, unlike any passion I'd ever seen. A spoken word artist came on stage and began talking about the Greensboro four - four black college students who wanted nothing more than to be accepted by society and to be treated like humans. The way the artist told their story was so moving, connecting many different issues besides racism. I began to look around the crowd that had gathered in preparation for the march to the state legislature on Jones St. They were begging for change, with signs that said: "End racism now." "Affordable health care now." "End AIDS." "Every child deserves a quality education." and many many others. I saw all the people. I saw all the signs. I felt like a part of a movement for the first time in my life. All these people were there for a common purpose - to see to it that justice is created in our world.

Rev. Barber, the president of the NC NAACP, began to speak once we got to Jones Street. I believe that each time I see him preach or speak, I am listening to a prophet. He is charismatic, and the passion and energy he exudes is unlike anyone I've ever heard speak. He captivates an audience with this charisma. He speaks out not only against racial injustice, but against all injustice. He connects faith so magically to the fight for social justice. He is truly a prophet of our time and I feel called to join the movement each time I hear him speak. Rev. Barber has the ability to connect with anyone - young or old, black or white, gay or straight. He speaks truth. He knows the reality and is not scared to stand up for what he believes is right: that which God created our world to be like, a world in which there is peace and justice for all people. And he brings people together, reminding us that we cannot do it alone, reminding us that it is about more than the moment - it is about the movement.

Next on stage was a high school aged young man, who I remember from September when he spoke at a prayer service for the Wake County School System. He had been arrested at a school board meeting while advocating for integrated, diverse schools for all. I have never been so entranced by a young person speaking; I was drawn into his every word. He took Rev. Barber's energy and charisma and carried it through his own speech. He apoke about the importance of diverse schools. Not only does it help distribute resources equally so that all children can receive the same quality educating, but being around students from different backgrounds and different experiences teaches a person perspective; it allows one to think for himself/herself; it encourages understanding; and it allows a young person to look outside themselves and see the complex web of human life and human relationships. As I listend to the young man speak, I thought of my own experiences in the East Hartford Public School System. I had many positive experiences growing up with students so different than myself, and looking back now, I realize that if I hadn't grown up in East Hartford and in it's public schools, I may not be where I am today - fighting for justice. I may not have been exposed to racism or poverty in my everyday. Listening to that young man fired me up and made me remember part of the anger the fueled my valedictory speech at graduation from high school. Injustice is not the answer to the problems of the world, yet so many school boards and local governments keep pushing injustice on its people.

I stood atop a wall as I watched and listened. Next to me was an older couple, who would later introduce themselves as the Irvings, long-time residents of Raleigh. Every once in a while, the wife would rub my back in an endearing way, but also in a motivating way, as though to say, "You can do it. You need to do it - for us. For all." I felt such an incredible connection to those strangers standing next to me, encouraging me. We stood together, sometimes arm-in-arm, listening to all of the incredible speakers who wanted to empower everyone in the crowd to keep fighting. Like the undocumented young lady who pays her taxes, and is tired of being reffered to as an "illegal alien". And then there was Darryl Hunt, exhonorrated after serving 19 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit. And then there was the CEO of the NAACP that reminded us that we are still fighting Jim Crow, though in a different way. He reminded us of the school system in Halifax County, NC where there are 8,000 children and three separate school districts - one that is 95% black; one that is 97% black; and one that's boundaries are juxtaposed down the middle, incorporating certain neighborhoods, and is 75% white. Injustice exists all around us.

Mrs. Irving linked armes with me and rubbed my back every once in a while. In a world of hatred, injustice, and oppression, I felt true love from a complete stranger. And then Rev. Barber told us to look at the person next to us and tell them: "You are my neighbor, and I love you. And I will fight for your family because your family is my family." I had tears in my eyes as I told Mrs. Irving this very thing. We really are one human family. We must fight together, hand-in-hand. We must fight for each other. We must fight for justice. We must fight for peace. HKonJ is the most powerful event I have ever attended. I feel inspired, empowered, educated, and ready to confront this fight head on - for the rest of my life because "We can't go back. We won't go back. No justice....no peace."





Forward Together. NOT ONE STEP BACK.

More Than Just The Girl Behind The Desk

I truly appreciate all the love, thoughts, and prayers sent my way after my last post. They were much needed. Things are still pretty tough out here. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed that I forget to appreciate the little things, and I bypass those "God moments". I'm slowly starting to remember to see the beauty in each moment and the blessings in each day. My clients have really brought my spirits up in the last week or two.

Over the past few months I have noticed an array of attitudes towards the services we offer at my agency. Three days a week, I run the food pantry and meet with about ten to fifteen clients a day those days (if not more). There are some clients who are always grateful for the assistance, and make sure to thank me before they leave. Even on the days when there is very little food in the pantry, they still express their gratitutde. These are the clients that make my day each and every day. They constantly remind me of why I love working with people and why it is so important for me to do what I do. I see God in each one of them as I watch our relationships grow over something as simple as sharing food. On the flip side, though, there are also clients who express a deep feeling of entitlement. If there is no fresh produce, they always make a point to remind me that there is none. When the food supply is low, they throw their arms up in the arm and growl at me. I had one client actually call me last week up in arms that there was only ground turkey in the freezer. This gets to be very frustrating, especially when I know my clients really count on us to provide them with the services they cannot get elsewhere. They often times come to the pantry so they can save the money they use at the grocery store and apply it to other bills and expenses. I also know that I work my butt off to make sure there is food in that pantry and to assure that I am doing my best to provide my clients with the services they need. This can be stressful and overwhelming, though, when that client sense of entitlement breaks through, as it often makes me feel like I am nothing more than 'the short girl behind the desk' to them. It affects me in hard ways sometimes and really challenges me to find new ways to provide services for them, while also finding ways to communicate with them that our assistance is not an unalienable right. It is something we are lucky enough to provide for them - whether it be assistance with food, prescription costs, transportation costs, or help with rent and utility bills.

This past week, I saw a combination of clients - those who are grateful and those who feel entitled. When the phone rang on Thursday morning, and I saw the phone number, I knew exactly which client was calling. This particular client expresses his love for me often and always says thank you for the littlest things - even if it just me telling him a good website to check out that talks about tenant rights. I was confused when he started yelling at me over the phone, not sure what I had done wrong. He started questioning the rules we abide by when it comes to the pantry, particularly our first come first serve policy. Then the words came out: "It is ridiculous that all of those people got to shop before me and only left me ground turkey for a meat." I took a deep breath and very sternly told him, "Kelly, listen to me for a minute. It is no one's fault that there was only ground turkey in the freezer. That is all that was available at the Food Bank. I cannot get meat besides what is at the Food Bank. Please just be grateful that there was any meat at all." After that, he backed down. He didn't apologize for blowing up, which I am ok with because he did say thank you. "Thanks for taking the time to listen, Ms. Cavaliere. I just needed to go right to the source to get the right answers. Thanks." As discourageed as I had grown in the middle of the conversation with him, by the end I realized that his own frustrations really have nothing to do with the ground turkey. I know this client so well as I have been working with him since the beginning of my time in Raleigh. Though in that moment he expressed some feeling of entitlement, I began to realize (after hanging up the phone and cooling down) that he really doesn't feel like he has a right to our services...he is realizing that he has grown dependent on them, a feeling that is far more challenging for him to deal with than his anger over ground turkey. He called me again on Friday, in a much happier mood, just to touch base with me about some things we had been working on together, such as figuring out what his rights are as a tenant and a renter.

Sometimes I just need a little time to process my daily interactions with clients. The learning moments may not be clear at first, but become crystal clear later on as I dive more deeply into a situation. There are those times, though, when my clients let me know exactly how they feel. Like last week when an older client came in to my office seeking financial assistance with her incredibly high electric bill. I was stunned when I saw how much her bill was for, especially knowing that she lives by herself. Like Kelly who I talked about above, I met Patricia at the very beginning of my time here. A loyal shopper at Under One Roof's food pantry, I see her twice a month without fail. And when I don't see her, I begin to worry - like the time she didn't show up in November and I had to find out from someone else that her mother had passed on. During our appointment, she kind of chuckled at me and said "What can you possibly do to help with this?" unaware that I do a little more than run the food pantry each day. We sat for an hour discussing ways in which she can alter her daily habits in order to conserve electricity, and thus lower her bill. She was very receptive to my ideas and continued to throw in her own ideas during our conversation. Together, we came up with a plan. Before she left, she gave me a big hug and said, "You know I love you, right? As though you are my own daughter."

Then there was another woman named Patricia. I mentioned her around Thanksgiving time when she told me, "I feel like I've finally found my family here," in reference to me. She just celebrated her 44th birthday and was excited to take some time for herself to celebrate. She has two young daughters who she has really dedicated her life to, and she often doesn't have a chance to step away and focus on herself for a night. She came in to shop at the pantry and told me she needed to talk to me first. She was so excited to tell me about the dinner she was planning with her friends. As she was talking, I started to get the feeling that she was going to ask if I was willing to babysit her girls. She started telling me all the details of the dinner: where they were going, what time they had to get there, etc. She says how she's only inviting a few friends, and looks at me and says, "One of them is you." I was so flattered and so grateful to know that Patricia sees me as more than the girl she talks to when she goes to the food pantry.

Things have been crazy, I'm not going to lie. One day, work is super busy and the next, it's as slow as it can be. And each day is a rollercoaster of sorts - new things I've learned, new perspectives, new ideas, new emotions. The greatest part of it all, though, is realizing that some of my clients look at me as more than just the girl behind the desk. They see me as a friend.