Today marks one month since I moved to DC for the summer and I am happy to report that my job is going well and the city is a blast. I am very appreciative of public transportation as the gas prices keep rising. Other people are too I think because the metro keeps getting more and more crowded - I watched 3 trains go by before I managed to sneak on to one this morning to get to work.
I live in a great location so the commute isn't bad. I walk about a mile to the metro station (or take the bus if I'm late - which actually doesn't happen very often, surprisingly enough) and then ride the Red Line to Union Station and walk a few more blocks to get to work. I'm actually on Capitol Hill and work just about 10 blocks from the Capitol. I spend most days staring at a computer screen, but have gotten out to lobby twice. So far I've been working a lot with the press (we had two press conferences this month!) and also on creating a record of how Senators have voted on torture-related issues. That should be up on the website in the next couple of days (www.nrcatactionfund.org). I get to do fun public policy things like that because that's campaign work which comes from a separate pool of funding (not tax deductible) and we don't have enough to pay any other member of the staff to do it :) It's a small office so we're always busy which can get hectic, but keeps things exciting.
As for when I'm not at work, I have had a great time getting out and seeing the city. There's always something going on. I took a sight-seeing tour by bus when I first arrived and visited the National Cathedral, the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, the WWII Memorial and the Korean and Vietnam Memorials. I have also been to the National Gallery, the American Indian Museum, the International Spy Museum and the Newseum (a museum about the press). My favorite thing in any of the museums by far was the photo display in the Newseum of every Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph - they were breathtaking.
My aunt and uncle (who I live with) have been very hospitable - sending me to the ballet and the military tattoo (where the navy comes and does their fancy marching and gun-twirling) at the Iwo Jima memorial among other places. Living with 7 dogs and a cat is a little different than two cats (that's right, there are 7: one German Shepard, one St. Bernard, two labs, a bulldog, a pomeranian, and one other one that howls). I have now successfully made one trip from my room on the 3rd floor out the door on the first floor without causing a bark or a howl (once one starts, they all do!) so I am hopeful that this will happen with slightly more frequency in the coming month. On the plus side, I never need to announce my own presence when entering the house because the dogs take care this for me.
I've had a few visitors too which has been nice. Ramya and Rani came out for her Odyssey of the Mind National Competition and I joined the group of elementary schoolers and parents on a night tour of the city which was beautiful. It was quite the journey given the shoes I was wearing (wedges are supposed to be much more comfortable than that!) Amy's mom Kathy has also been out to visit for National History Day and we enjoyed a nice meal together as well - and she convinced me to buy a great new dress! And while Katharina was in town, we visited Alexandria and enjoyed a Red Cross Festival that was going on.
One month to go!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Children and Chaos at STA
We had our last ERP kids event of the year last night. It was movie night watching Mr Magorium's Wonder Emporium at STA. There were about 12 kids and 7 ISU students which is crazy in itself, but good enough when they're watching a movie. But only 1 child actually watched the movie (they complained that they didn't like the movie, so we switched it to Enchanted and still, only one watched the movie).
It was fine because most of them played in the Angels room, but a few of the older boys just went around picking fights. It made me sad to see that their way of interaction was mainly to get into fights or yell at each other and call each other names. I mean, I know they're kids, but at ten and eleven years old, it was more than just the typical kids being kids. Then the oldest one, Bear, grabbed one of the bulletins and realized that we were in a Catholic church and freaked out. I can't be in no Catholic Church, I'm a Christian. Catholics are demons, they're devils. Then he saw a picture of Pope Benedict XVI in the student lounge. You shouldn't be wearing that cross. You're no Christian. Bear in mind that there were a number of young adults gathering in the lounge at the time witnessing all of this. Catholics think they're Christians, but they're not. They're devil-worshippers.
I was offended and saddened. Offended because we make time to plan events for the kids - and enjoy doing it - and organize it through our Catholic Church. Then he goes around yelling that we are terrible people (not my interpretation, he actually did) when we're doing these things for them. We could have been studying, probably should have been, but since they asked us to do a movie night we added one last event. It was frustrating and made me not want to make the effort in the future. Granted it was only one child, but by the end of the night he had one other girl come up to me and tell me Catholics are bad (though she clearly only did it because she felt forced to) and many other students heard his rants.
I'm not sure how much of the things he was saying he actually believed versus how much he said just to get a rise out of us. It made me sad to think of how young he is and how intolerant he is already. And if it was only to get attention, the fact that he felt like he needed to try to hurt someone in order to get attention. Or maybe he was just bored and figured that was something to do for a while. Whatever the case, he thought it was acceptable to go around yelling insults in the church. It made me sad. And grateful for the home I was raised in where hitting was a timeout and screaming meant getting sent to my room and fighting with a neighbor probably meant not playing outside the next day.
There are two new children that just moved in to ERP family housing that are still sweet and not violent. I hope they have the chance to play outside with the other kids, but that the other kids aren't a bad influence on them. It's just a tough situation all the way around. And we don't spend enough time with them to make much of a tangible difference other than maybe 5 or 6 hours a month. I hope in the fall, or even this summer, they can get a tutoring program going for the kids to help with reading or schoolwork on a regular basis.
It was fine because most of them played in the Angels room, but a few of the older boys just went around picking fights. It made me sad to see that their way of interaction was mainly to get into fights or yell at each other and call each other names. I mean, I know they're kids, but at ten and eleven years old, it was more than just the typical kids being kids. Then the oldest one, Bear, grabbed one of the bulletins and realized that we were in a Catholic church and freaked out. I can't be in no Catholic Church, I'm a Christian. Catholics are demons, they're devils. Then he saw a picture of Pope Benedict XVI in the student lounge. You shouldn't be wearing that cross. You're no Christian. Bear in mind that there were a number of young adults gathering in the lounge at the time witnessing all of this. Catholics think they're Christians, but they're not. They're devil-worshippers.
I was offended and saddened. Offended because we make time to plan events for the kids - and enjoy doing it - and organize it through our Catholic Church. Then he goes around yelling that we are terrible people (not my interpretation, he actually did) when we're doing these things for them. We could have been studying, probably should have been, but since they asked us to do a movie night we added one last event. It was frustrating and made me not want to make the effort in the future. Granted it was only one child, but by the end of the night he had one other girl come up to me and tell me Catholics are bad (though she clearly only did it because she felt forced to) and many other students heard his rants.
I'm not sure how much of the things he was saying he actually believed versus how much he said just to get a rise out of us. It made me sad to think of how young he is and how intolerant he is already. And if it was only to get attention, the fact that he felt like he needed to try to hurt someone in order to get attention. Or maybe he was just bored and figured that was something to do for a while. Whatever the case, he thought it was acceptable to go around yelling insults in the church. It made me sad. And grateful for the home I was raised in where hitting was a timeout and screaming meant getting sent to my room and fighting with a neighbor probably meant not playing outside the next day.
There are two new children that just moved in to ERP family housing that are still sweet and not violent. I hope they have the chance to play outside with the other kids, but that the other kids aren't a bad influence on them. It's just a tough situation all the way around. And we don't spend enough time with them to make much of a tangible difference other than maybe 5 or 6 hours a month. I hope in the fall, or even this summer, they can get a tutoring program going for the kids to help with reading or schoolwork on a regular basis.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Reflecting on Honduras
Excerpt from an email to a friend in Bolivia:
Honduras was an incredible experience. We were only in-country for 10 days, but I got a glimpse of the culture. Since it was Semana Santa, the whole country shut down, especially on Thursday and Friday - we could hardly find a place open to buy food. Luckily we were prepared, but it was a little unsettling not having options. Definitely a good thing to experience - it gave me a small sense of what it's like to have no option for the poor.
I also saw how the "importance" of a person varies. There we were, just a couple of college students and people were thrilled to have Americans in their presence. Several people in the smaller villages we visited like Dolores in western Honduras had never seen gringos before, particularly the kids, and definitely not so many at once.
The machismo really stood out. We would walk around Santa Rosa where John and a few Peace Corps workers are the only real gringos they see - not a big tourist town - and get all sorts of stares and whistles and loud comments from men who assumed we didn't speak Spanish (and sometimes I'm glad I didn't know the slang when John would glare their way). But in the tourist town of Gracias where there's a great cloud forest - Celaque - the stares were even more blatant. Even to the point that people would stop cars and roll down windows and stare as we walked by two feet away. That was later in the week, so it we were kind of used to it by then but it surprised me that in a tourist town the stares were more blatant than in the town where at least the majority of the stares were out of curiosity. Especially when the police were the "perpetrators."
Sidebar: I had an interview for study abroad the week before break to spend the fall in the Netherlands and the spring in South Africa studying community organizing. I'm really excited about both. One of the questions they asked me was if I were lost, what would I do? I said I'd go to a center of transportation (gas station, train station, etc) to get directions/oriented. And if there wasn't one around? Then I'd probably ask a woman with children for help. Then I would probably ask someone else to make sure I got the same directions. They said they hadn't heard that answer before, which surprised me given the number of students they interview for study abroad. The typical answer is that a person would go to the police. I realized that my travel experience when I'm not with family has been in countries where the police are not necessarily the most trustworthy people to seek help from and that was my frame of reference when answering rather than thinking of how stable the Netherlands is. And on that topic, I'm debating which language to learn in South Africa. I plan on learning Afrikaans since it's related to Dutch and that's why the programs are connected. But I'm afraid that the language I chose - Xhosa v. Afrikaans - will be symbolic because I'm not sure if one language is more associated with one racial group or group of particular social standing. Oh well. I hope to learn enough Dutch and Afrikaans/Xhosa to be fluent so I can get a Rotary Scholarship to one of the countries but that's at least a year away.
The people of Honduras are so friendly. I am amazed by the poor and how caring and giving they are. We stopped to tour a church in a small village on our way back into town because the church we were helping to build would be identical to it. The family who lived next to the church insisted that we come in for refreshments just because they saw that we were extranjeros. I was relieved to see that they poured us pop so we could accept it.
Honduras was an incredible experience. We were only in-country for 10 days, but I got a glimpse of the culture. Since it was Semana Santa, the whole country shut down, especially on Thursday and Friday - we could hardly find a place open to buy food. Luckily we were prepared, but it was a little unsettling not having options. Definitely a good thing to experience - it gave me a small sense of what it's like to have no option for the poor.
I also saw how the "importance" of a person varies. There we were, just a couple of college students and people were thrilled to have Americans in their presence. Several people in the smaller villages we visited like Dolores in western Honduras had never seen gringos before, particularly the kids, and definitely not so many at once.
The machismo really stood out. We would walk around Santa Rosa where John and a few Peace Corps workers are the only real gringos they see - not a big tourist town - and get all sorts of stares and whistles and loud comments from men who assumed we didn't speak Spanish (and sometimes I'm glad I didn't know the slang when John would glare their way). But in the tourist town of Gracias where there's a great cloud forest - Celaque - the stares were even more blatant. Even to the point that people would stop cars and roll down windows and stare as we walked by two feet away. That was later in the week, so it we were kind of used to it by then but it surprised me that in a tourist town the stares were more blatant than in the town where at least the majority of the stares were out of curiosity. Especially when the police were the "perpetrators."
Sidebar: I had an interview for study abroad the week before break to spend the fall in the Netherlands and the spring in South Africa studying community organizing. I'm really excited about both. One of the questions they asked me was if I were lost, what would I do? I said I'd go to a center of transportation (gas station, train station, etc) to get directions/oriented. And if there wasn't one around? Then I'd probably ask a woman with children for help. Then I would probably ask someone else to make sure I got the same directions. They said they hadn't heard that answer before, which surprised me given the number of students they interview for study abroad. The typical answer is that a person would go to the police. I realized that my travel experience when I'm not with family has been in countries where the police are not necessarily the most trustworthy people to seek help from and that was my frame of reference when answering rather than thinking of how stable the Netherlands is. And on that topic, I'm debating which language to learn in South Africa. I plan on learning Afrikaans since it's related to Dutch and that's why the programs are connected. But I'm afraid that the language I chose - Xhosa v. Afrikaans - will be symbolic because I'm not sure if one language is more associated with one racial group or group of particular social standing. Oh well. I hope to learn enough Dutch and Afrikaans/Xhosa to be fluent so I can get a Rotary Scholarship to one of the countries but that's at least a year away.
The people of Honduras are so friendly. I am amazed by the poor and how caring and giving they are. We stopped to tour a church in a small village on our way back into town because the church we were helping to build would be identical to it. The family who lived next to the church insisted that we come in for refreshments just because they saw that we were extranjeros. I was relieved to see that they poured us pop so we could accept it.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
iHola de Honduras!
iHola todas! I am in Santa Rosa de Copan, Honduras and having a blast! We got in on Friday night and after 2 hours in customs, we met up with John Donaghy - our in country host - a little more tired, much warmer, and one bag lighter than when we left Ames that morning. It was nice to be out of the airport. We spent the night at a hotel in San Pedro Sula, not too far from the airport.
We started off Saturday morning with a traditional breakfast of platanos con crema y huevos rancheros: sweet bananas with creme and eggs with peppers. The bishop - Monsenor Luis Alfonso Santos - wanted to pick us up but the President of the Republic (of Honduras) was visiting Santa Rosa to dedicate a new street that was about to be paved, so the bishop had to be there as well. Instead he sent two cars to pick us up. I rode with Ramiro, Katie, and Mary & John, Mitch, and Marla rode with Rafael. We had quite the discussion about the geography, impact of the mines on the agriculture and the people, and of course politics.
Ramiro told me about how he is working to get the government to impose a tax on the mines since they are engaging in cyanide leeching which gets into the water supply and causes health problems. They don't want environmental laws because there will be no enforcement of the laws and most officials are easily bought off by the mining companies anyway. He also asked my impression of the war in Iraq. I told him it was mostly unpopular in the States, but now that we're there, what do we do? I have friends who are fighting there now. He said popular sentiment in Honduras is that we never should have gone in and should leave immediately. I asked him about Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez. He said most people like him because he is doing a lot of good things to help countries in Latin America. Ramiro doesn't speak any English so all of our communication was in Spanish - I was impressed by my abilities to communicate. It was broken but I got the message across.
We arrived in Santa Rosa de Copan around noon and got settled in with two Spanish nuns - Hermanas de la Immaculada - who run a home for girls from the countryside who are attending school and need a place to stay. Since it is Semana Santa - Holy Week - they are all home and their rooms are available for us to stay in. Mitch is staying just down the street at John's house.
We spent Saturday walking around town and buying fruit at the market. We ate dinner with the sisters at a local pizza place. Actually, we spend most days walking around town. There are taxis, but mostly we walk. Saturday night, though, Sor Maria Jesus and Sor Marissa, our hostesses, drove us around town in the back of their truck: up and down the hills under a star-studded sky in the warm evening air - it was gorgeous. [Cultural note: stop signs are optional. In fact, people slow down more when there is no stop sign.]
Sunday morning we got up at 3:45am to make alfombras in the street for Palm Sunday. Here, they cover the streets in a path of decorative designs like crosses, doves, flowers, and chalices made of sawdust and then line them with real flowers. Then they process along the path from the local church - St. Martin - to the Cathedral in the town square. The procession includes Jesus on a donkey, all of his disciples, a statue of Jesus carried by four men, the priest, and lots of incense. It began at tipo 8am [about 8am - that's the time to gather and it will start sometime after that] and lasted until 11am. Then we ate lunch at John's - baleadas are the traditional meal of corn tortillas, beans, and crema, plus fresh mango, pineapple, and papaya.
Then it was naptime. Our siesta was not long enough.
We walked around town some more to change money and get licuados (a milk and fruit drink similar to a smoothie) before dinner with the bishop. He is something. He treated us to dinner at one of (if not the) nicest places in town and offered lots of alcohol, cigars, and desserts [all of which we turned down because this is a church trip and we were full from a huge meal]. But he was very energetic and enthusiastic and happy to spend time with us which was nice. Afterwards we walked around the town square for a while and he asked about our schedule for each of the remaining days of the week asking when we could get together again. It was touching how hospitable he was to us and how pastoral he is to his people. He stands up to the government every chance he gets [even when they are armed] and in the streets paused to say hello and ask after families of people he knew. The country is 90% Catholic or more and he is a well known figure after 24 years as bishop. For a man of 71 he looks at least 15 years younger.
Having had a long day, we eagerly went back to bed. Monday morning came at 4:30am. My alarm clock is not particularly accurate in time (it cost $2.50) and on top of that I had to guess the time to set it, I didn't have a clock to set it from. Anyway, I read it wrong and we all got ready by 4:50am thinking we were late when we were really an hour early. So we took naps and got to John's...late anyway. Mass started at 6am at the radio station.
Author's note: today has been another full day and I am tired. Here is the short version of what happened:
Monday:
6am - Mass, Marla sick :(
7:30am - breakfast at John's
8am - to Kindergarten in Colonia Divina Providencia: 50 kindergarteners, 1 teacher - mostly orphans
Noon - lunch with Padre Roel - very liberal priest ... ask me about him
1:45 - 2:30pm - nap, this is exhausting
3pm - visit Hogar San Jose - a home for malnourished children newborns to age 5 run by the Missionaries of Charity after 5 years old, they either go home to their families who could not take care of them before due to financial situation or imprisonment or to the orphan homes next to the kindergarten.
6pm - dinner at John's
7pm - Stations of the Cross at St. Martin with the "base community" that John belongs to
10pm - BED!
Tuesday...I'll tell you about later. It was a fun day at the Copan Ruins followed by a talk by famous Brazilian Catholic theologian and former priest Leonardo Boff.
I haven't written much about the people other than Romiro. The interactions I've had with them are very important and the reason we are here. However, 1) I don't have time - I'm detail oriented and as you can see I am not terribly brief and 2) I want to explain that in person - if I write it all now you'll have nothing to ask me about when I get home. They are touching and have impacted me as a person and made me consider new possibilities for my own future. They are absolutely filled with God. Sandra, a young girl who lives in a shack with no electricity and at least 4 siblings and her mother brought us snacks on Sunday morning because she wanted to offer us something. She gave from what very little she had to her new friends. As John says, the most important thing is that we were paying attention to her. But here I go writing too much again. The Kindergarten and the Home for Malnourished children have been the most moving so far - I'll talk to you when I get home. Hope all is well. Abrasos hasta luego.
We started off Saturday morning with a traditional breakfast of platanos con crema y huevos rancheros: sweet bananas with creme and eggs with peppers. The bishop - Monsenor Luis Alfonso Santos - wanted to pick us up but the President of the Republic (of Honduras) was visiting Santa Rosa to dedicate a new street that was about to be paved, so the bishop had to be there as well. Instead he sent two cars to pick us up. I rode with Ramiro, Katie, and Mary & John, Mitch, and Marla rode with Rafael. We had quite the discussion about the geography, impact of the mines on the agriculture and the people, and of course politics.
Ramiro told me about how he is working to get the government to impose a tax on the mines since they are engaging in cyanide leeching which gets into the water supply and causes health problems. They don't want environmental laws because there will be no enforcement of the laws and most officials are easily bought off by the mining companies anyway. He also asked my impression of the war in Iraq. I told him it was mostly unpopular in the States, but now that we're there, what do we do? I have friends who are fighting there now. He said popular sentiment in Honduras is that we never should have gone in and should leave immediately. I asked him about Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez. He said most people like him because he is doing a lot of good things to help countries in Latin America. Ramiro doesn't speak any English so all of our communication was in Spanish - I was impressed by my abilities to communicate. It was broken but I got the message across.
We arrived in Santa Rosa de Copan around noon and got settled in with two Spanish nuns - Hermanas de la Immaculada - who run a home for girls from the countryside who are attending school and need a place to stay. Since it is Semana Santa - Holy Week - they are all home and their rooms are available for us to stay in. Mitch is staying just down the street at John's house.
We spent Saturday walking around town and buying fruit at the market. We ate dinner with the sisters at a local pizza place. Actually, we spend most days walking around town. There are taxis, but mostly we walk. Saturday night, though, Sor Maria Jesus and Sor Marissa, our hostesses, drove us around town in the back of their truck: up and down the hills under a star-studded sky in the warm evening air - it was gorgeous. [Cultural note: stop signs are optional. In fact, people slow down more when there is no stop sign.]
Sunday morning we got up at 3:45am to make alfombras in the street for Palm Sunday. Here, they cover the streets in a path of decorative designs like crosses, doves, flowers, and chalices made of sawdust and then line them with real flowers. Then they process along the path from the local church - St. Martin - to the Cathedral in the town square. The procession includes Jesus on a donkey, all of his disciples, a statue of Jesus carried by four men, the priest, and lots of incense. It began at tipo 8am [about 8am - that's the time to gather and it will start sometime after that] and lasted until 11am. Then we ate lunch at John's - baleadas are the traditional meal of corn tortillas, beans, and crema, plus fresh mango, pineapple, and papaya.
Then it was naptime. Our siesta was not long enough.
We walked around town some more to change money and get licuados (a milk and fruit drink similar to a smoothie) before dinner with the bishop. He is something. He treated us to dinner at one of (if not the) nicest places in town and offered lots of alcohol, cigars, and desserts [all of which we turned down because this is a church trip and we were full from a huge meal]. But he was very energetic and enthusiastic and happy to spend time with us which was nice. Afterwards we walked around the town square for a while and he asked about our schedule for each of the remaining days of the week asking when we could get together again. It was touching how hospitable he was to us and how pastoral he is to his people. He stands up to the government every chance he gets [even when they are armed] and in the streets paused to say hello and ask after families of people he knew. The country is 90% Catholic or more and he is a well known figure after 24 years as bishop. For a man of 71 he looks at least 15 years younger.
Having had a long day, we eagerly went back to bed. Monday morning came at 4:30am. My alarm clock is not particularly accurate in time (it cost $2.50) and on top of that I had to guess the time to set it, I didn't have a clock to set it from. Anyway, I read it wrong and we all got ready by 4:50am thinking we were late when we were really an hour early. So we took naps and got to John's...late anyway. Mass started at 6am at the radio station.
Author's note: today has been another full day and I am tired. Here is the short version of what happened:
Monday:
6am - Mass, Marla sick :(
7:30am - breakfast at John's
8am - to Kindergarten in Colonia Divina Providencia: 50 kindergarteners, 1 teacher - mostly orphans
Noon - lunch with Padre Roel - very liberal priest ... ask me about him
1:45 - 2:30pm - nap, this is exhausting
3pm - visit Hogar San Jose - a home for malnourished children newborns to age 5 run by the Missionaries of Charity after 5 years old, they either go home to their families who could not take care of them before due to financial situation or imprisonment or to the orphan homes next to the kindergarten.
6pm - dinner at John's
7pm - Stations of the Cross at St. Martin with the "base community" that John belongs to
10pm - BED!
Tuesday...I'll tell you about later. It was a fun day at the Copan Ruins followed by a talk by famous Brazilian Catholic theologian and former priest Leonardo Boff.
I haven't written much about the people other than Romiro. The interactions I've had with them are very important and the reason we are here. However, 1) I don't have time - I'm detail oriented and as you can see I am not terribly brief and 2) I want to explain that in person - if I write it all now you'll have nothing to ask me about when I get home. They are touching and have impacted me as a person and made me consider new possibilities for my own future. They are absolutely filled with God. Sandra, a young girl who lives in a shack with no electricity and at least 4 siblings and her mother brought us snacks on Sunday morning because she wanted to offer us something. She gave from what very little she had to her new friends. As John says, the most important thing is that we were paying attention to her. But here I go writing too much again. The Kindergarten and the Home for Malnourished children have been the most moving so far - I'll talk to you when I get home. Hope all is well. Abrasos hasta luego.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Life goes on...?
I saw death today for the first time. Like not the result thereof. Death in action. We had to put Stripes to sleep. My Dad held her. I turned away. But not before she went limp. She's my kitty. I love her. She was in such a good mood too, especially for being at the vet. Not that I regret it, I'm sure it was the right thing to do for her. Right? Yeah...
But it got me thinking, through my tears...can you imagine, I mean, really imagine, living in a wartorn area of the world? Where young children accept death as a sort of way of life, part of the way things are? Watching a loved one die at the hands of another... I mean, my cat died in the most humane way possible...what if you were forced to watch your family member be tortured? Even just imagining someone I know getting tortured is horrible, but someone I love? While I was watching?
I got a poster in the mail today:
People are being tortured;
Why should you care?
Torture is a sin.
Torture doesn't work.
Torture hurts everyone.
All who torture,
All who order torture
All who let torture happen,
Must be held accountable.
As followers of the tortured
And risen
Jesus,
We must stop torture.
Together we can.
Know. Care. Act.
I think maybe I will take that job in D.C. this summer...
www.nrcat.org
But it got me thinking, through my tears...can you imagine, I mean, really imagine, living in a wartorn area of the world? Where young children accept death as a sort of way of life, part of the way things are? Watching a loved one die at the hands of another... I mean, my cat died in the most humane way possible...what if you were forced to watch your family member be tortured? Even just imagining someone I know getting tortured is horrible, but someone I love? While I was watching?
I got a poster in the mail today:
People are being tortured;
Why should you care?
Torture is a sin.
Torture doesn't work.
Torture hurts everyone.
All who torture,
All who order torture
All who let torture happen,
Must be held accountable.
As followers of the tortured
And risen
Jesus,
We must stop torture.
Together we can.
Know. Care. Act.
I think maybe I will take that job in D.C. this summer...
www.nrcat.org
Sunday, September 30, 2007
ONE Campaign Update
So things have been really busy with the ONE Campaign lately. We took a lot of action over the last few weeks - particularly during Political Action Week at Iowa State University. Some events:
Sunday, September 16: Harkin Steak Fry
ONE had a table set up to talk to Iowans about ONE issues and invite them to sign the declaration. Gov. Bill Richardson came over to the table, did a shout out, and put on the band that I gave him!
Monday, September 17: Political Action Week - Foreign Policy Day
ONE members talked to students on Central Campus and Iowa ONE Outreach coordinator Natalie Sugira was the keynote speaker, talking to students about her global poverty in the context of growing up in Rwanda.
Read the Iowa State Daily Article: http://www.iowastatedaily.com/home/index.cfm?q=ONE+Campaign+Obama&flan_search=go&event=displaySearchResults&buttonPushed=1&client=testing-testing&forid=1&ie=ISO-8859-1&oe=ISO-8859-1&cof=GALT%3A%23008000%3BGL%3A1%3BDIV%3A%23666666%3BVLC%3A663399%3BAH%3Acenter%3BBGC%3AFFFFFF%3BLBGC%3AFFFFFF%3BALC%3A0000FF%3BLC%3A0000FF%3BT%3A000000%3BGFNT%3A0000FF%3BGIMP%3A0000FF%3BLH%3A37%3BLW%3A310%3BFORID%3A1%3B&hl=en
Watch Natalie's speech: http://youtube.com/watch?v=-Kb09x37aqo
Friday, September 21: Political Action Week - Keynote: Barack Obama
Twenty students wore ONE Vote 08 t-shirts on Central Campus during Barack Obama's speech. After the speech, Senator Obama greeted the crowd. I handed him a ONE band early in his hand-shaking and he wore it on his right hand as he shook hands with literally hundreds of students!
Our next big event will be the Iowa Hunger Summit on at the Downtown Marriott in Des Moines on October 16! We may also have the opportunity to host a meet and greet with David Beckman, president of Bread for the World on campus on October 15!
Until then, keep rocking the wristbands and spreading the word!
www.one.org
www.onevote08.org/states/ia
Sunday, September 16: Harkin Steak Fry
ONE had a table set up to talk to Iowans about ONE issues and invite them to sign the declaration. Gov. Bill Richardson came over to the table, did a shout out, and put on the band that I gave him!
Monday, September 17: Political Action Week - Foreign Policy Day
ONE members talked to students on Central Campus and Iowa ONE Outreach coordinator Natalie Sugira was the keynote speaker, talking to students about her global poverty in the context of growing up in Rwanda.
Read the Iowa State Daily Article: http://www.iowastatedaily.com/home/index.cfm?q=ONE+Campaign+Obama&flan_search=go&event=displaySearchResults&buttonPushed=1&client=testing-testing&forid=1&ie=ISO-8859-1&oe=ISO-8859-1&cof=GALT%3A%23008000%3BGL%3A1%3BDIV%3A%23666666%3BVLC%3A663399%3BAH%3Acenter%3BBGC%3AFFFFFF%3BLBGC%3AFFFFFF%3BALC%3A0000FF%3BLC%3A0000FF%3BT%3A000000%3BGFNT%3A0000FF%3BGIMP%3A0000FF%3BLH%3A37%3BLW%3A310%3BFORID%3A1%3B&hl=en
Watch Natalie's speech: http://youtube.com/watch?v=-Kb09x37aqo
Friday, September 21: Political Action Week - Keynote: Barack Obama
Twenty students wore ONE Vote 08 t-shirts on Central Campus during Barack Obama's speech. After the speech, Senator Obama greeted the crowd. I handed him a ONE band early in his hand-shaking and he wore it on his right hand as he shook hands with literally hundreds of students!
Our next big event will be the Iowa Hunger Summit on at the Downtown Marriott in Des Moines on October 16! We may also have the opportunity to host a meet and greet with David Beckman, president of Bread for the World on campus on October 15!
Until then, keep rocking the wristbands and spreading the word!
www.one.org
www.onevote08.org/states/ia
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Reunion Dinner Thoughts
I forgot how much I value honest, intimate conversation. The dinner was fantastic - wonderful food: gazpacho, pasta puttanesca, and spumoni. Pat and Kirstin are such gracious hosts, and their boys were so much fun. We all traded photos and I passed around my scrapbook. It's the first time I'd really shown it off. I put a lot of time into it and people appreciated that, which was nice to hear.
The crowd thinned out pretty early - maybe around 9pm. Pat, Joey, Spencer, Bryce, and I sat around for a while longer talking. Then it was down to Joey and Pat and Kirstin and me. They chatted about the boys for a bit, then Kirstin went to bed. Joey and I talked about our summer and moving to school and Pat listened attentively. I told her about my experience on the way up to Ames. I told her about how much I didn't like Iowa State last year. I mentioned in brief the reasons why, although I left out the major detail. Then I listened to her talk about how she's been feeling since she got back. She was so honest, like she always has been. I didn't know what to say really, so mostly I just listened too. Then I asked Pat about school. He avoided the question quite nicely.
It was so refreshing to experience such honesty and openness in conversation. And it was really nice to be able to talk and have someone listen. Sometimes, that all you need. No advise. No input. No words of "encouragement" or "support." Just someone to listen and care. Joey and Pat did that. Laura did earlier this summer. And it means so much. Just to know that someone cares enough to let me talk about whatever it is I'm feeling. Not judge me. Not tell me how to feel. Not tell me what to do. Just listen. So thank you. I entered Ames with dread and I left in peace. How wonderful.
The crowd thinned out pretty early - maybe around 9pm. Pat, Joey, Spencer, Bryce, and I sat around for a while longer talking. Then it was down to Joey and Pat and Kirstin and me. They chatted about the boys for a bit, then Kirstin went to bed. Joey and I talked about our summer and moving to school and Pat listened attentively. I told her about my experience on the way up to Ames. I told her about how much I didn't like Iowa State last year. I mentioned in brief the reasons why, although I left out the major detail. Then I listened to her talk about how she's been feeling since she got back. She was so honest, like she always has been. I didn't know what to say really, so mostly I just listened too. Then I asked Pat about school. He avoided the question quite nicely.
It was so refreshing to experience such honesty and openness in conversation. And it was really nice to be able to talk and have someone listen. Sometimes, that all you need. No advise. No input. No words of "encouragement" or "support." Just someone to listen and care. Joey and Pat did that. Laura did earlier this summer. And it means so much. Just to know that someone cares enough to let me talk about whatever it is I'm feeling. Not judge me. Not tell me how to feel. Not tell me what to do. Just listen. So thank you. I entered Ames with dread and I left in peace. How wonderful.
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