Washing Of The Feet

It is rare that I write about my faith on my blog, but I am realizing more and more how my passion for social justice goes hand in hand with my faith and my beliefs. This became incredibly clear at Holy Thursday mass, when I was overcome with emotion as I heard the Gospel, watched the washing of the feet, and reflected on the things I saw and the things I heard this week after the tornadoes ripped through my city.


During the day on Thursday, my co-worker Donna came into my office to update me on the destruction she had seen in northern Raleigh that day. We talked about the feeling of speechlessness that overwhelms us each time we see new damage or even drive down the same streets. I had yet to see any of the damage in the northern part of Raleigh because I never travel up in that particular section of the city...hence my focus in my last post about southeast Raleigh (my section of town). As Donna talked to me about what she had seen - roofs off of big commercial properties, large trees down everywhere, trees snapped in half - I was once again left without words, unable to describe how I was feeling. The word that kept running through my head was "why"...why such destruction? Why such pain? The feelings came and went as the day went on until Kristin came into my office a couple of hours later. She had just visited a client of hers who lives in the trailer park where three boys were killed during the tornado last weekend. When she walked into my office and began to tell me about what she saw, I could see that she was visibly shaken by the sights. She pulled out her camera and began to show me the pictures she had snapped while she was there - huge trees literally snapped like toothpicks, trees smashed right through trailers. Speechless again, I just stared at the photos, unsure how to respond, unsure of how I was feeling...confused, startled, scared, feeling my heart break for those affected by the storms. Kristin looked at me and said, "I'm going to bring my client food later today if you want to come." I knew that I had to.


As we pulled up to the entrance of the trailer park, I saw cars parked on both sides of the street and some tents set up just outside of the entrance. Volunteers were cleaning up after handing out food to the families in the neighborhood. A police officer was patrolling the entrance so that only people who needed to be in the area were there. After Kristin showed the police officer her Wake County ID, we headed into the trailer park. I quickly caught sight of some of trees that had fallen, but the devastation was not yet clear to me. We visited Kristin's client for a few minutes, bringing her new food from the pantry because her food had spoiled after being without power for five days. After the visit, Kristin drove me around the trailer park. Her client's trailer had been unaffected by the storms, and most of the trailers directly surrounding her home were unharmed - maybe a broken window here and there, or some siding that had come off, but nothing devastating. We drove a little bit and then I started to see the real devastation. Entire trailers were ripped to pieces with trees right through them. There is no way these trailers can be repaired. Families have lost everything. I looked at those homes and all I could think was, that was someone's life...and now it is all gone. I saw a bed cut right in half. I saw clothes everywhere. I saw the insulation of a home wrapped around a tree. Entire lives...gone. How can they rebuild? Mostly immigrant families living in deep poverty...how will they rebuild?


That night at Holy Thursday mass, a powerful feeling came over for me as Fr. Ray read the Gospel and then got down on his knees and washed the feet of 12 parishioners. For those of you who do not know, in the Gospel of John (John 13:1-15 to be exact), John recounts the story of Jesus getting down and washing the feet of his disciples. An act that servants would not even perform for their masters, Jesus sat before this disciples and washed their feet. The Bible says that Jesus said to them afterwards: "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you." Fr. Ray stood before us and helped us to understand this part of scripture, explaining that Jesus has provided us an example. Jesus is not necessarily saying, "Go forth and wash the feet of all the people," but he is telling his disciples to go forth and do as he has done...be one with the poor, the sick, the marginalized, and spread his message. Or as St. Francis once said, "Preach the Gospel, and if necessary, use words." Jesus says it himself...when I die, do not let me die. Continue to live in the example that I have set for you. As Fr. Ray washed the feet of the 12 parishioners, I cried and cried. This year has been a spiritual journey for me in so many ways. I have come to be able to articulate my faith in a new way and have realized how my spirituality and my passion for social justice go hand-in-hand. Jesus left an example for me...be Jesus for others. Spread the compassion. Look at the people of the world and recognize that we are all brothers and sisters; one people; one humanity. As such, we must all work together to bring about peace on this Earth. We must give to each other in order to bring about a reign of justice. It is together that we can bring about a better world, a peaceful world, a just world.


It is so fitting that I visited the trailer park on Holy Thursday. When I heard the Gospel that night and watched as Fr. Ray followed Jesus' example and washed the feet of my brothers and sisters, it was then that I realized how powerful of a sight I had witnessed in the trailer park devastated by the tornado. Among the destruction and my own feelings of helplessness, I witnessed something beautiful. Compassion. Hope. Through the devastation I saw volunteers everywhere. Helping to inspect homes, giving out food and clothes, working to cleanup...around each corner, there they were. I saw neighbors helping neighbors and strangers helping strangers. Brothers and sisters working together. Men and women following Christ's example and "washing the feet" of their fellow people.

"In a spirit of thankfulness, 

we wash each other's feet, 

uphold each other's lives. 

In a spirit of joy and praise, 

we serve each other now, 

at the table of the Lord."

Serving You

This Is My City.

As most of you know, this weekend was a scary one here in Raleigh. Severe storms ripped through central North Carolina, producing tornadoes - one of which touched down less than a mile from my house. Hanna and I were at the YMCA, hoping to workout at the same time the thunderstorms came so as not to drive through the rough rain. Never did we think that within five minutes of our being there we would be evacuated into the locker rooms because of tornado warnings. Who would ever think that there would be a tornado in Raleigh, NC? NOT ME....or any of my roommates for that matter. As we watched the meteorologists track the storms on TV in the locker rooms and told Samii and Kate to do the same, they began to talk about a possible tornado in the downtown area. That surely scared us and once the storms passed and we couldn't get ahold of the girls at home, we rushed home to make sure everything was ok. Thankfully, all was in order back at our house and in our immediate neighborhood (aside from the giant tree up the block that was ripped in half).

Once the initial fear disappeared, we decided to drive through town to see what really happened and if it was as bad as we had originally heard on the TV before we lost power. As we drove down Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd, the impact of the tornado and severe storms became instantly clear. All of the streetlights were out; huge oak trees had been completely uprooted and had fallen into the street; small trees had been snapped in half; big green highway signs had been destroyed; trees were resting on houses; the roof of Shaw University's student union had been blown right off and windows in the residence halls were blown out. We drove through the neighborhoods closest to ours, feeling so blessed that we were ok and that the tornado had missed us. The fear vanished but was replaced by other powerful emotions, namely sadness and anger. On one of the busiest streets in the city, all of the streetlights were without power. Some of the heavily traveled intersections had police officers directing traffic, while others were without traffic control. It was at these intersections that the anger and lack of understanding began to take over. Rather than treating these intersections as 4-way stops, people were breezing through them without regard for oncoming traffic. Each time a car would stop at the intersection, taking the precaution of avoiding an accident, a car from behind would beep. How could people be so impatient at such a time? Did they miss the news that this neighborhood just got hit by a tornado? It was impossible that they did because on the same street we were driving on, there were trees everywhere, destruction that was clearly evident. I couldn't (and still cannot) understand how people could breeze right on through as though they had the right of way, when, in reality, getting to our destination should not be the most important thing on our minds. 

Without power, we were completely out of the loop, unaware of how much damage there was aside from what we had seen right after the storm. We had no idea that people had died or that there was another neighborhood in north Raleigh that was equally as destroyed as the one in the southeast section of town. On Sunday, we drove through southeast Raleigh once more on our way to the ordination of my old supervisor. Her church is smack-dab in the middle of one of the toughest neighborhoods in town. A place where poverty is ingrained, this section of Raleigh happens to be one of the areas most devastated by the tornado (the same neighborhood described above). My anger from the previous day turned to sadness as I began to witness the devastation to the neighborhood. Entire roads were blocked due to fallen trees and fallen power lines. Many houses had trees inside of them. There was still no power. Cars were smashed. The next day I talked to my co-workers about how they had been impacted by the storms. My boss' neighborhood is  a mess. Another colleague's mother's home is devastated. I instantly began calling clients that I am close with to see if they were ok. It was then that I realized the impact the storm was having on the most impoverished part of Raleigh.

With each call, I heard the fear in voices of clients who live in southeast Raleigh. Fear because their food had been spoiled due to the power outage. Fear because they don't know what to do about the damage. Fear because there is no money to rebuild. Dwayne told me that he was still without power, that he had no food, that his neighbor's truck was destroyed. Jabbar told me his mom's car was literally sitting on top of another car and that he had no more gas in his truck because he had helped her get the insurance agent and run other errands. These are just two of the stories. My hear broke and continues to break as I realize the impact this tornado is having on those who already struggle each day. Why did the tornado have to hit that neighborhood of all places? Why did it have to devastate a section of town that is already devastated by poverty? The things that I know I take for granted each day are the things these people need most but are struggling to get in such a time of need - food, gas, money to rebuild. I keep thinking that if the tornado had struck a little further west, the devastation would still be bad but rebuilding might take less time. Those who already have so little have now really lost everything. Why southeast Raleigh?

I never would have thought I would be able to say I made it through a tornado - and maybe I can't really say that now. But I have definitely realized how those feelings of invincibility are a part of who I am. I have never witnessed a natural disaster...sure we have blizzards back home and pretty bad thunderstorms from time to time, but I've never seen a tornado, never been through a hurricane, never felt an earthquake, never seen a wild fire. Every day on the news, I witness the sad stories of homes lost to fires (like in Texas right now) or entire cities destroyed from earthquakes (like in Haiti). But here I am...in Raleigh, NC...seeing it with my own eyes. A tornado ripped through one of the most impoverished areas of the city and many have lost so much. This is my city. This is my life. These are my clients, my friends, my brothers and sisters. What can I do to help? What can I do to ease the pain? I feel blessed that this city and county are responding to the tornado in such a positive way and I hope that I can lend a helping hand somehow.

Take A Deep Breath

I sat on the Metro North heading downtown to Grand Central Terminal, looking out the window at the city that I have loved for years. It felt so good to be back home, but this time, things were different. As I gazed out the windows on the 20 minute ride from Fordham into Manhattan, I felt like I was looking through a new pair of eyes. The neighborhoods that I had passed by hundreds of time on that very train now looked different to me. I began to notice the trash outside the high rises in the Bronx and Harlem. I started to see the broken windows of the apartments. It was as though I had on new glasses that showed me reality - a reality that, though I was aware of while living in the Bronx, I seemed to have ignored to a certain extent. This feeling sums up my entire visit back to NYC.


After working day in and day out with those most affected by social injustice in our country, I am really beginning to see how my perspective has adjusted, shifted, and even changed. Listening to the stories of my clients and their struggles with unemployment, poverty, homelessness, and HIV/AIDS has forced me to confront reality. When I hear a client tell me that she cannot pay her electric bill for the month because she had to go to New York to bury her mother, my heart breaks. When I hear another client share the story of his inability to visit his son who lives less than hour away because he cannot afford the gas, my heart breaks. I have learned this year that I need to take that heartbreak and delve deeper. Why is it that so many people struggle from day to day to make ends meet? Why do those living in poverty find it so difficult to escape? Why are those living in poverty so much more likely to become infected with HIV/AIDS? Why are middle class neighborhoods clean and poor neighborhoods strewn with garbage? 


My visit to NYC helped to re-energize me, as it reaffirmed my passion for the fight for social justice. Spending time with my mentors and friends helped to remind me of where I come from and how I got involved in this fight to begin with. Watching Dr. Naison's passion as he told his class about the Vietnam War was one of the most powerful experiences I've ever had in a classroom. As he was nearly brought to tears - tears of anger and sadness - my heart broke a little more but the vigor in me was inspired to keep pushing forward. At the GO! Gala, I was reminded of how my passion was sparked. As we listened to the former director of GO! talk about the program, I realized how my experiences in Nashville changed the course of my life forever. Building relationships, taking risks, embracing difference, recognizing new things, and opening yourself to heartbreak - these are tenets I live by now, not just ones that I experienced in 2 week long projects in Tennessee. This is how I learned how to confront the world. This is how I learned about reality. By making myself vulnerable and opening myself to struggle, I have been able to experience the world in ways that many people will never have the chance to experience. 


The greatest lesson I will take away from my time back in my favorite city, though, goes a bit deeper than remembering the little moments that helped create my passion. During Paul Francis' last words at the GO! Gala, he talked about things that we, as alumni, can continue to do to support Global Outreach and its mission. The first thing he asked of us is that we continue to share the GO! story, that we never cease to share our experiences with others - so that some day someone else will be inspired to take up the fight. As he reminded us of the importance of telling our story, he began to talk about his time at this year's JVC East orientation and, in his own way, mentioned how he saw me instantly sharing my story of GO! with my new friends. I began to cry as I realized he was talking about me, not because he chose me as an example but because I stopped and listened. And in that moment, I heard God say to me: "This is where you are supposed to be. Never give up. Do not be afraid, I am with you." The next evening at 9pm mass, I had another God moment as Fr. Florio gave his homily to kick off Ignatian Heritage Week at Fordham. Fr. Florio began his homily with the words, "There are none as blind as those who refuse to see." It was as though God, once more, was reaching out to me, reminding me that I have been called to do His work here on Earth. I am here to help others see, to see the reality, to look beyond the comfortable, to make oneself vulnerable to the point that she, too, will return home looking through a new set of eyes.


Walking through the streets of New York City, I began to realize how much I miss the big city feel, but how much I appreciate life in Raleigh. The slower pace, the kindness of the people, the openness of each individual. As I walked with my friend, Nick, we looked up at the buildings and we watched dogs run around. He said to me, "I am in no rush. I have every other day to rush." That's when I knew that JVC has changed me. That's when I knew that I now see through a new set of eyes. Life is not about success, or money, or power. Life is about being. My visit home to NYC reminded me that sometimes I just need to stop, take a deep breath, and BE. Sometimes I just need to stop and appreciate the beauty of the world.


As I rode the Metro North from Fordham to Grand Central Terminal and I passed the dilapidated high rises and streets covered in trash, I couldn't help but wonder how I had missed that for four years. It's amazing how the experiences in my life have changed my perspective so much that those were things I saw this time around.