La nieve

I'm home in Massachusetts!  I left Georgia on Thursday morning, drove to the Jacksonville airport, had a painful layover in Philly, and landed in Rhode Island.  It was quite a journey, but definitely worth it.  I've already been able to see all of my local family members and a majority of my friends from home, and I'll be heading to Philadelphia for New Year's Eve to see many of my college friends before flying back to Savannah on January 4.

I'm currently snowed in, which is quite annoying.  However, I'm super grateful that I was accepted to both Emory and Tulane for a Master's in Public Health for next fall because it means I can escape at least a few more New England winters! 

El futuro del país

This morning, my mom called to tell me that a boy I went to elementary and middle school with was stabbed to death yesterday at 2am in Providence.  We were never close friends; he was always a trouble-maker, so we didn't really hang around with the same people.  Still, reading the article in the Boston Globe this morning immediately brought his face to mind.  Unfortunately, and I say this with utmost respect, I'm not terribly surprised that this happened.  If he was anything like the 8th grade-version that I remember, he probably didn't have a lot of direction in life.

Yesterday morning, just a few hours after this young (white) man was killed, the Senate voted to end discussion of the DREAM Act.  They fell only 5 votes short, and 4 Senators abstained from voting.  As I watched the final tally of votes appear on the screen, I immediately started crying.  I was overcome with thinking about the youth who were suddenly told, yet again, that they mean nothing to our country.  Many, if not most, of these young people have spent practically all of their lives in the United States and barely remember their "home country".  They speak English, went to school here, and hope to build their adult lives here.  Yet, with a quick vote by 100 people (mostly white men), their chances of becoming citizens of the United States were basically destroyed.  And since Congress will become considerably more conservative for the next two years beginning next month, it will be a while before this piece of legislation is ever brought up again.

What message does this send to young people who were brought to the United States by their parents without the proper documentation?  Does it say, "Study hard and work hard so that you'll get a good job and be able to contribute to society"?  I don't think so.

Let's imagine a 6-month-old child who is brought to Philadelphia from Puebla, Mexico by her parents without legal documents.  She grows up speaking Spanish at home and English at school.  She is bright, making good grades and having exceptional communication skills, and wants to become a doctor.  But when she wants to apply to college, she finds out she can't qualify for any federal loans.  That's okay though; she gets accepted to a private university and is given enough merit scholarships so that she and her parents can pay for the rest of her education.  She does very well in college, but now what?  She can't apply to most graduate-level programs without a valid social security number.  She can't apply for any decent jobs without a valid social security number.  She can't apply to get a valid social security number without returning to Mexico (where she doesn't know anyone) and waiting the 15-ish years it takes to start the legal immigration process to the United States.  So she's kind of stuck.

This is a true story.  And there are hundreds of thousands of stories that are similar to it.

The DREAM Act wasn't an "amnesty bill."  But it would've given this young woman, and many others, the opportunity to apply for citizenship in the United States if they had come to the US before the age of 16, lived here for at least 5 years, graduated from high school/got a GED, and completed at least 2 years of college/military service.  After all those processes, the individual would still have about a 6 year waiting period.  But it would've been an available path for young people to no longer be held responsible for the actions of their parents/guardians.

For me, the irony of tabling this bill is that our economy is a mess.  And now there are lots of young adults who will be forced into unskilled labor, regardless of how smart and hard-working they are.  Granted, even the most xenophobic people aren't suggesting we don't need unskilled labor in this country; after all, who would pick up our trash and mow our lawns and build our houses?  But it might also be helpful to have more well-educated people who might be able to solve our financial/environmental/health/etc. problems.

So, why should undocumented youths stay in school?  What is stopping them from dropping out of high school at age 16 and joining gangs or getting pregnant or working at McDonald's?

There are lots of issues related to our current immigration laws, and I do not think that the passing of the DREAM Act would've solved them.  But it at least would've been progress, a step in the right direction.

I just pray, for all of those individuals who were directly affected by yesterday's quick vote, that they never give up their dreams.  And for everyone else who feels that they have no direction in life, that they keep searching, preferably without the help of drugs and violence.

La Navidad

It's one week before Christmas and yesterday it was 71 degrees in Savannah.  It kind of feels like October here; the leaves on the tree in our front yard are finally beginning to change colors.  Last week it was actually quite chilly...then I realized that if I thought 30 degrees was cold, I will be in for a rude awakening when I venture back up to Massachusetts and Philly on Thursday.  I think the only thing that reminds me that Christmas is looming is my house's beautiful holiday decorations and the music on the radio.

I don't think the commercialization of Christmas has ever bothered me as much as it does right now.  When I get $100/month for personal spending, it's hard to justify buying gifts, especially the kind that you know the recipient doesn't need or even really want.  Besides, now more than ever, I just want to be around my close friends and family.  I want presence, not gifts.

La Virgencita

Wednesday was the feast of the Immaculate Conception.  Although it's traditionally my second favorite holy day, I couldn't go to Mass because I was far too busy at the clinic.  As I was secretly missing making fun of the people who sing "Breath of Heaven" to celebrate the day (which is commonly confused with the Annunciation), a very pregnant woman entered Good Samaritan.  It turns out she is only one month from her due date and she recently learned that she has gestational diabetes.  She is receiving her prenatal care elsewhere, and they referred her to a special high-risk pregnancy clinic for her diabetic care.  However, she was told that she needed to bring $655 for her appointment at the latter location.  She is currently not working and has two other kids, so, long story short, she didn't have the money and was hoping we could help her.

There really was nothing I could do in this situation.  By law, Good Sam isn't allowed to serve women who are pregnant because of the liability involved.  And although the fetus will eventually be a US citizen, the mother is undocumented and therefore excluded from much of the assistance she would otherwise qualify for. So I ended up asking one of my volunteers to take the woman aside and basically get the story straight, and then encourage her to work out a payment plan at the specialty clinic.  After all, sometimes a kind, listening person does a lot more to help people in need than anything else.

After the woman left, the volunteer had tears in her eyes as she said that throughout the long conversation, she couldn't help but think about the Virgin Mary looking for assistance as she was getting ready to give birth to Jesus.  I think this was way more prayerful for me than going to Mass to remember Mary being born without original sin.  

Today is the feast day of the Virgen de Guadalupe (the Church tried to move the celebration to yesterday because it's also the third Sunday of Advent, but whatever...).  I spent Friday and Saturday evening at my parish to celebrate.  It began with a procession from the soccer field to the church while we carried candles behind the framed picture of La Guadalupana, accompanied by mariachi music.  Then there was Aztec dancing in front of the picture before Mass.  I ended up sitting in the sacristy, behind the altar, because there were no more seats inside the church and I didn't want to sit outside in the rain.  Following the Mass, in typical Hispanic fashion, there was music and food.  Yesterday evening, there was more music and food.  There was even some sort of cute child-in-costume contest and some form of singing-in-front-of-the-virgin contest.  I still don't quite understand a lot of the customs, but I find the entire celebration quite beautiful.  After all, I think that Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe is really about social justice.  Mary, the woman who brought Jesus onto this earth, appeared to a poor indigenous man and looked poor and indigenous herself!  She didn't appear to the bishop as a wealthy western European!  It's no wonder that she is viewed as the Empress of the Americas; she came for the poor and oppressed and has become a symbol of hope.

On a side note, today is also Foundation Day for the Sisters of Mercy, so last night my community members and I went to Mass and dinner at the local convent.  And tomorrow is the feast of St. Lucia, my patron saint.  I love celebrating all of these strong and beautiful women in the Church! :)

Llena de miseria

For those of you who read Spanish, the title line of this blog entry probably worried you a bit.  It translates in English to "full of misery," which probably sounds, well, miserable.

Actually, it is the full Latin translation of the word "misericordia", which is used in English directly as "mercy."

This week marks my fourth month in Savannah.  It feels like home here: I know my surroundings, my community, and my place of service comfortably well.  But for the past four months, I have been constantly searching for a definition of "mercy" that made sense for me within the context of the relationships here.

I actually stumbled upon this definition when I was reading something about the 30th anniversary of the martyrdom of the four American church women in El Salvador on December 2.  Although none of the women were Sisters of Mercy themselves, the publication was done by the Sisters of Mercy in the light of Advent.  (If you need something to inspire you to be more merciful, read about the lives of Ita, Dorothy, Maura, and Jean.)

And finally, things are starting to make sense for me.  I've seen a lot of "merciful" acts so far this year, with volunteers bringing volunteers for other volunteers at my clinic, with people wanting to support my community, with countless individuals being extremely patient with me, etc.  But I had a feeling I was missing something.

Now, with this new definition of "mercy" in my head, the picture is a lot clearer.  It can be summarized in the way I feel called to just sit and share in the suffering of the people who come to/call the Good Samaritan Clinic every day.  There are a lot of things that no one in my clinic can do for people other than just listen to them.  It's sometimes hard for me;  I get antsy to finish filing charts or sending faxes or responding to emails.  But I've become aware of the fact that if I am really supposed to be here as a Mercy Volunteer, then my biggest service to people has to be just being present.

This concept of mercy sounds kind of miserable, but that's not how I feel.  Instead, I feel completely full of joy in understanding further each day how I am uniquely related to every other human being.  Of course I get sad and frustrated on a regular basis, but sharing in peoples' sorrows also means sharing in peoples' joys.  And through my own struggles and successes, I've become quite accepting of the way that everyone has both in life and that everyone deserves to share both with people who care.

Hmm...looks like I've also started to further define "solidarity" for myself in this attempt to sort out my thoughts on mercy.