New Blog but for real this time

Okay, so I posted like 5 months ago saying I had a new blog.

Then life got kind of crazy.

So I'm starting over:

blueberriesforme.wordpress.com

Last day

My stomach hurts.

I can't tell if its the 2 cups of coffee I've had, the heat, the 5 day old yogurt I ate for breakfast (don't judge) or the fact it's my last day working as a Jesuit Volunteer.

In 24 hours I will be on the road, heading away from my 2 years as a JV.

Remember the scene in the Poisonwood Bible where the girls drag themselves out of the jungle? That's a little how I feel right now. Exhausted.

The last few weeks have been incredibly busy. We have had to clean the entire house in preparation for the new JVs, visitors, work, paperwork, financial reports, more cleaning, packing, etc. I feel like I haven't sat down in weeks.

Oh yeah, and I think I'm supposed to be planning a wedding or something.

It's impossible to say what these two years have meant to me. I remember another part of the Poisonwood Bible when one of the girls talks about how after you feel a true hunger of the body, you can never fully relate to people who haven't. Now, we've had some meager meals,but have never gone hungry. But I understand the sentiment of that. JVC will change you, ruin you, forever. I don't know who I would have been without JVC, but I am know I am definitely a different person than I would have otherwise.

Before this past year, I didn't know any murders or anyone who had been murdered. Now I do.

Before this year, I had never eaten antelope, elk, or venison. Still have yet to try bear.

Before JVC, I had never had the confidence to confront people. Now I believe I do, and that relationships that mean something to you deserve honesty.

Before JVC, I had never been to a Jesuit parish, done an Examen, or taken part in a smudging. Now I find these all beautiful spiritual practices.

Before JVC, I hadn't met the man I would marry. (Had to thrown that one in there!)

Now I think about the four values, spirituality, community, social justice, and simplicity, every day. I am slower in my walk, and more reflective about my decisions. I see that everything I do has a consequence which I can try to nudge into a more honorable direction. Every action can be a spiritual one, from washing the dishes to reading an illiterate client his mail. I have grown closer to God in these years, I know, but I don't think I will fully realize the changes that have occurred for weeks, months, or even years from now.

I am grateful for this journey I have been on. It hasn't been easy, far from it, but it has been worthwhile.

So 3 more hours of working as a JV. I am a little nervous about the future. Being a JV has been my identity for so long, I don't know what FJV life will be like. But for the time, I am going to focus on the present and bask in what an incredible 2 years this has been.

I failed.

Obviously I overestimated how much time I would have over the next few days to write. I've barely sat down for 2 weeks. Cleaning, packing, cleaning, working, cleaning, errands, and did I mention cleaning?

But anyway - congrats to the two Ashland JVs who finished the half marathon in Missoula this weekend! It was inspirational how you managed to train while balancing JVC. It was great seeing all of you ladies. Blessings on the next journey in your life!

What its like to work at a homeless shelter

I thought I'd continue with yesterday's post and write a little more about what its like to work at a homeless shelter.

I have never ceased to be amazed at the breadth of issues we face here. Domestic violence, mental illness, child protective services, housing, Social Security, unemployment, food stamps, job searching, resume building, obtaining a GED. We deal with perpetrators and victims, child abusers and children.

The issue of homelessness extends far beyond a lack of housing, or a lack of a job. And our services don't extend much beyond being a safe place to be. We offer coffee, computers to print out a job application or to build a resume, a dry place to store your bags. A TV to watch movies or the news on. Sometimes we have donated clothes. Couches to sleep on if you've spent your entire night walking around town. We have a bathroom.

We provide GED pre-testing, but not really a place to study.

We have phones that you can call the domestic violence crisis line, but we don't have a secure women's shelter. (Not that all victims of DV are women, but a separate shelter would help).

We have computers to print out job applications, but not bus tickets so that you can get to the job.

We will have donations of socks, gloves, and hats in December, but not in March when it still gets below freezing every night.

Every day, we face inadequacy after inadequacy. Homelessness is a large problem without much of a solution. There are pieces we can chip away at, such as substance abuse or unemployment. But the problem of homelessness isn't as simple as we like to make it out to be. It isn't just a lack of housing.

Which can make working here pretty tough. Every day you see things that you wish you could forget, but you can't. Constantly we face a lack of donations, a lack of supplies, a lack of resources for an ever expanding population.

It's tough to describe what its like to spend day after day here. You get used to the smell of stale urine and beer, the ribald humor, calling 911. But there lies the rub. If you get to used to it, you become calloused and uncaring. But if you allow it to get to you, you remain vulnerable to the immensity of human suffering.

When we had our commissioning mass at orientation, our area director told us these words along these lines as he gave us our crosses "the weight of the world is not yours to bear alone, but you are not free to abandon it."

It's a tricky line to walk.

One week

I have one more week of Jesuit Volunteering. (I'm leaving a little earlier, with some saved up vacation/overtime/holiday time/sick time). So I am going to try and post every day this week. And for today's post, here is my good-bye letter I wrote for the Poverello's newsletter:

At the Salcido Center, we have clients who will occasionally drop a quarter into a parking meter about to run out. We have clients who will walk around downtown looking for lost cell phones and bring them in to us so that we can find the owner.

I say this, because as a Jesuit Volunteer, we are asked to live out four values of social and environmental justice, spirituality, community, and simplicity, so that we can live in solidarity with those we are serving. But in my two years in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, I have never really achieved "solidarity." I may keep the heat down low in my house to save money, but I have never slept outside in the snow. I might bike to work, but I have never walked miles and miles to eat a meal. And I definitely have never spent the last quarter I have to make sure someone doesn't get a parking ticket.

Working at the Salcido Center has not only exposed me to all of the difficulties of people who are homeless, but also the myriad of experiences of people who come here. I have met men and women from all walks of life and have been overwhelmed by the stories I have heard. Stories from smoke jumpers, teachers, survivors of domestic violence, people who have been hardened by years on the street, and people who are terrified to spend their first night at a shelter.

If I hadn't worked at the Salcido, I would never have heard these stories, and never have seen not only the struggles, but the generosity of our clients. I have been truly to blessed to meet all the people I have had the pleasure to work with this year.

A few retreat pictures

Courtesy of house photographer, Jen Certa.

1. Bree and I at a tea house in Butte

2. Playing Mafia

3. Making s'mores (man, I love s'mores.)

4. Butte is Cutte!

Worthwhile

Things like this make it all worthwhile. A client gave me this note today.

Ugh

I hesitate posting this because I don't want anyone to worry about me, for one. Also, if there are any potential JVs reading this out there, I don't want them to be scared! One of our staff at the Poverello was stabbed on Monday. Please read this article.

I am posting it because our staffer, the rest of the staff, and our clients could use your prayers right now. It's an incredibly rare incident, and he was very lucky. But its definitely shaken us all up.

Hays

Here are some pictures from our trip to Hays. Hays is in Eastern Montana which is in the plains, but there are the "Little Rockies" right beside it and a small (but neat!) canyon. It was incredibly windy there, which is why we are all looking pained in the picture in front of the church. The last one is of Bree at a ranch on the plains. She has a client that thought her name was "Breeze" instead of Bree, so we had to get a picture! All photos to the credit of Jen Certa.

Song

This song reminds me a lot of our clients. I'm not great with the formatting, so sorry the video doesn't really fit. But the lyrics are enough.

Quintessential

The other day, when it was my turn to cook, I made the (almost) quintessential JV meal, if I do say so myself. On the menu was:

* Marinated elk steak (gifted from an elderly couple who has befriended the JVs for years)

* Carrots (from the farmer's market)

* Biscuits (made from scratch by yours truly)

* Rice sides (One of those put in a pot and ready in 10 minutes, everything included)

So gifted, local, homemade, and cheap. The only thing that might have made it more JV is if we had also included something thrifted, ie from the food bank or donated to the Pov or YWCA.

In another "quintessential" Montana experience, I saw my first bitterroot flower, the state flower of Montana, yesterday. The unfortunate thing about having Mondays and Tuesdays off is that it leaves me with a lot of time alone. So on Tuesday, when the sun had finally came out and blessed us with some warmth, I biked up to Waterworks Hill. Waterworks Hill is also known as the "Peace Sign" hill. It got its name from a peace sign a few people had placed on the hill years and years ago. Turns out, not quite legal to place a sign on public land without permission, and it was removed. A peace sign out of rocks remains on the hill and is visible from downtown Missoula.

I hadn't done this hike yet as I had assumed it was just a trek up a barren hill, and therefore boring. I was wrong. The wildflowers were gorgeous. Sunflowers and tiny yellow flowers, bluebells and and a white flower that reminded me of the Queen Anne's Lace we see back east. And of course, bitterroots. In my opinion, they are quite deserving of the title of state flower. It was like an exclusively pink Easter egg hunt, spotting one behind a rock, one under another flower, one just off the path.

The views were some of the best in Missoula. Not only could you see the whole valley, but the Rattlesnake Valley as well. I hiked back down through Cherry Gulch, which did not offer the same views, but was very peaceful, with all that grass rustling in the wind and what not.

Ah, Montana.

Solstice

It's just a few days from the solstice. The pinnacle of the year, the day the most sunshine will bathe this northern corner of our country. Right now we are getting almost 16 hours of sun, compared to the just under 16 hours of dark we will get 6 months from now. And in just under a month, I am reaching the end of my tenure as a Jesuit Volunteer.

It's a scary venture to no longer be in JVC. Being a "JV" has defined me for the last two years. There are moments when I am excited to leave. I can't wait to have control over my own checkbook, to just go grocery shopping when we're out of food and not to need to have a community meeting first. I'm excited to have a paycheck (ha! Just kidding, that's not gonna happen). I'm excited to not have to wear clothes that I don't care if they are spit up on, accidentally bleached while cleaning, or somehow otherwise ruined.

It's harder to define what I am sad about leaving. (Before you say goodness, she must've hated JVC, hear me out).

First, their are the trappings of JVC. Retreats, spirituality and community nights, area visits, meetings with support people. My retreats and area visits have already finished, and while I am sure one day I will miss them, they so recently finished, I don't yet. In my Spokane community, we placed a much greater emphasis on community and spirituality nights than we have in Missoula. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it has been different. I defined much of my JV experience last year through those nights, and so they are already a part of JVC from which I have transitioned. My lifestyle is considerably less focused on simplicity this year than last, which is something I have mourned.

There are other "trappings" of JVC, the job, the location. These I won't miss, since they won't drastically change. I left for JVC on an adventure to see the wild west, but I will remain here. I wanted to explore somewhere exotic, like Alaska, see all that was new and different, and then return home. Plans change, and the way you see a place once you realize you will be staying changes too. I have been slower to discover Missoula this year. It's also a little less exciting to experience sub zero winters when you realize it's not the only time you will have to endure it. I haven't bought any souvenirs or a t-shirt that says "Montana" because, well, that'd be weird to wear here. But Missoula feels much more like a home to me than Spokane did.

Then, of course, there is the job. I will miss my job, with all of its challenges, and with all the understanding it's brought me. I will miss seeing my clients daily and recognizing the faces of people who are homeless all around Missoula. But I am not leaving completely. I will either work part time or be volunteering at the Pov in years to come.

Then there is the part of JVC other than the "trappings." The values. And these I won't miss, because I won't be leaving them behind. I will still value community, simplicity, spirituality, and social justice.

So as the year slips back down to the long winter, I slip closer and closer to the end of my two years. But I guess there isn't much to "miss" as I leave JVC. (my housemates of course! but even one of my housemates is staying, so that's one less thing to miss!) My life will be drastically different leaving community and entering marriage, but will be quite similar too. Of course, the major constant will be that this year, last year, and next year, I will try to be loving tenderly, acting justly, and walking humbly with my God. Micah 4:6

Cycling for Change

Today, a group of bicyclists from Cycling for Change came by the Poverello. It is a group of about 15 cyclists led by a Jesuit priest, Fr. Ruhl, who are biking across the country to raise awareness about poverty in the United States. The ride, which covers 5000 miles in 100 days, is an initiative of Catholic Charities of Kansas City.

Two members of the group were former Jesuit Volunteers. It was great to talk to them and hear about their ride thus far. Check out their website; it's a pretty awesome project.

Solidarity, baby.

You arrive at the front door soaking wet, I arrive soaking wet. You arrive cold, I arrive cold, fingertips red and burning.

Granted, I am only wet and cold from biking to work and not from sleeping outside, but that's solidarity for you.

At least that's what I told myself when I arrived to work sopping wet. It poured this morning as I was biking to work. It drizzled before I left, drizzled after, but poured while I was biking.

Ah, to be a JV.

At least the shelter has free clothes so I went and snagged myself a high quality pair of mom jeans circa 1985. The waist comes roughly up to my arm pits and the legs end somewhere right above my shoes. But at least they are dry.

Retreat, round 8

Including orientation, I just finished my 8th JVC retreat of my time as a Jesuit Volunteer. At first, just getting back from vacation, I thought retreat would be a little wasted on me since I had just had rested up. But the 3 days I worked that week proved to be plenty enough to send me running for the hills. It rained all week so we were quite busy, we had two cases of domestic violence between clients, and another death (which I mentioned earlier). And a fight involving knives. So I was definitely ready to retreat.

We headed to a town near Big Sky, MT which is close to West Yellowstone. It was wonderful to see all of the volunteers from Montana, Eastern Washington, and Idaho, about 40 in all. This year I have gotten much closer to the volunteers from other communities than I did last year, which has been a blessing. It helps me to remember that this is bigger than just my community, just my job. We watched a short video based on the bestseller, My Life with the Saints, which also reminded me this is bigger than JVC.

The most influential part of the weekend, for me, was reading Thomas Merton's Letter to a Young Activist. We just received a copy at the end of the weekend, but I think it is an incredibly powerful letter.

The weekend focused on spirituality and created a lot of time for reflection. Two of the communities, Omak and Hays, have finished their JVC term since they work in schools. It was a little difficult to pair the closure they were going through with trying to renew the energy of those who still have a month or two left.

In addition to the Ignatian Spirituality, there were also campfires, s'mores, and many games of Mafia. I still can't believe how many times the Mafia won...

A little R&R

I think one of the hardest things about adjusting to JVC was going from the college student lifestyle of 4 months of vacation a year to 10 days. Which would've been the case with any job,but nevertheless was a transition.

This past week I took 4 of my vacation days and went home to Virginia. I flew in as the sun was setting, and the pink light illuminated the tall cumulus nimbus. It occurred to me how few people ever get to see this view, the world above the clouds. When I landed at 8:30, the sun had already set and it was dark out. I realized that I had gotten used to the Montanan sun's habit of not setting till almost 10. Oh, this psuedo-Alaskan state.

(I pause here to complain about my work computer. It's so old that the mousepad keeps screwing up and I can barely type a sentence without it highlighting and deleting the last phrase I typed. GAH!)

On Sunday, it was my grandmother's birthday and we celebrated with brunch. After that was a bike ride and I realized that I really need to do a little more pointed training for this ride in July.

The rest of the week was lounging in my parent's hot tub, sitting on the back porch, going on bike rides. And of course...wedding planning. Met with the photographer, florist, baker, hairstylist. Plus got a few other to-dos done.

Then it was off to Baltimore for a cousin's wedding and to see the family. The little ones are growing up, as most everyone tends to do. It was fun to see my parents' old stomping grounds, and to eat some good seafood. Montana's not known for its crabcakes. But the one I had in Baltimore was quite wonderful.

The week went by quickly and then it was back to the wild blue!

We have this hope

March, April, and May have proved to be rough months for the Salcido. We have lost 4 clients over the past few months, and are also reaching some financial trouble. See here.

I won't write about the how we lost the four clients, not because some involve open police investigations, but also out of respect for the privacy any family would desire. That, and death is a difficult thing to write about.

We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.

Hebrews 6:19

Times like these, it's good to remain anchored in hope. It can be, however, to figure out out for what we should be hoping.

World peace?

An end to hunger, homelessness?

That it'll ever get above 65 in Missoula?

I'm not sure. Suggestions, anyone?

Bitter

I remember once, as a kid, asking my dad why he drank coffee every day since, obviously, it was "gross."

He replied, "it takes a while to realize that not every beverage you drink has to be sweet."

I thought about this for a bit. Milk isn't really sweet. Water isn't either. And juice...well, yeah, that is. And coke...yeah that definitely is. Okay, I guess Dad has a point. But why would you want to drink something bitter anyway?

In college I learned how to choke down the stuff, with plenty of milk, sugar, blending, whipped cream and caramel topping. By senior year, I had learned to take my coffee with only cream, but it wasn't until last year that I joined the adult world with the routine of the daily cup of joe. Working with children at the day care brought me many joys, one of which being the joy of caffeine. Most Friday mornings, in the months that I biked, I would treat myself to getting up a little earlier and going out for some quiet time and a cup of drip at a nearby coffee shop.

I think of coffee when I think of my response to the question, "how has your JVC experience been?" For some reason, I think people often expect the answer to be along the lines of "wonderful, perfect, awesome, so glad I did it, enjoyed every minute, everyone should do it." Usually I mutter something along the lines, "good, but tough. Worthwhile, but I'll be ready for the next phase of my life." Which leaves me wondering why I haven't been more enthusiastic. Or why when I talk to former JVs they don't go into the dreamy haze of reminiscing the "best days of their life" like people do remembering their college years. Here I am, doing a second year, marrying a former JV, convinced my time with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps has been exactly what I should do. Why aren't my responses "wonderful-perfect-awesome?"

I think I have learned to enjoy these years in the same why I enjoy my coffee. It's not sweet, and that's okay. I can appreciate the fragrant yet earthy aroma as I sip my morning cup. I appreciate the bitter contrast that it provides to a donut or cinnamon roll.

In the same way, I am glad that my years have not been completely sweet, but have provided me with a chance to face the difficult. To confront the bitter. And not only to tolerate life's less-than-sweet moments, but thoroughly be grateful for them.

I blame my mother.

I know its one of those things you aren't supposed to say, but its true. I do. Because of her, I am 23 years old and cannot...

make Kraft mac n cheese worth to save my life.

I also cannot make a grilled cheese sandwich.

Unfortunately, because of her, many of the quintessential JV meals I utterly fail at. And yes, it is possible to mess these up. My mac n cheese is always too watery and I consistently burn my grilled cheese.

I jest. I realize I am lucky that I grew up eating real meals and have learned (somewhat) how to cook. I still haven't made it to my mom's level yet, but I'm getting there slowly.

It's amazing how many barriers there are between low-income or homeless people getting healthy meals. Things which don't expire, are portable, and hearty don't tend to be healthy. Things which are healthy, like fresh fruits and vegetables, require places to cook and a little know-how.

There are many ways to respond to this issue. When we donate food to food banks, we could choose items that are at least healthy versions of non-perishables. We could support local farms to insure that things like fresh fruits and vegetables will still be around. We can support health care reforms which include preventative care so more people can learn about proper nutrition.

But for me, its cooking. Cooking is what teaches me to make choices about what I do and don't put in my body. Chopping each carrot and slicing each rhubarb stalk reminds me of the abundance of the earth. Stirring a pot of soup soothes me after a long day at work. And it reminds me to be grateful. Grateful that I have food on my plate. And grateful to have a mother that taught me how to cook.

So Mom, happy Mother's Day!