Choosing to Love

Last night I helped my co-worker organize the annual Oxfam Hunger Banquet for students here on campus. What I was expecting to be an engaging and humbling experience left me angry and disgusted as I sat and watched the bored and apathetic students counting down the minutes until they could be dismissed and grab something deep-fried and artery-clogging as soon as they left the premises. (Disclaimer: As I'm fairly worked up about the situation, expect me to speak in extremes from here on out, but know that there were a small handful of students who did engage).

The premise of a Hunger Banquet is to gather participants for a meal together, simulating real world conditions. At one table, a small handful of people dine on a nutritious meal complete with a tablecloth, silverware and fine china. These people represent the 15% of the world's population who earn more than $9400 a year. A few tables over are a larger group who represent the 30% of the global population who may have a steady job, but no savings or anything to fall back on in case of an emergency such as a natural disaster, war or a family death/illness. These people had a cup of water and a plate full of rice and beans. The remaining participants are seated on the floor where they're given a bucket of drinking water and a large bowl of rice. These people sans bowls, plates and utensils represent the remaining 55% of the world's population- most of whom live on less than a dollar a day and frankly, don't know where their next meal is coming from.

As the evening progressed, the high class and middle class tables dined on their meals and I watched as the lower class stared at the bowl of rice placed in front of them. As the meal drew to a close and the supplementary Oxfam educational video was turned off, we opened up a discussion, hoping to allow the students an opportunity to reflect on what they had just experienced. What we got rather, were the blank aforementioned stares. At one point I was frustrated as the discussion had come to a standstill and I asked the lower class group why their meal remain untouched. I got an assortment of replies, most of which informed me that they didn't want to use their hands for reasons of sanitation. As which point I asked them, but what if you didn't know you had access to food once you left this room? They continued their same path of logic, one student was so bold as to say he would wait up to three days for food if it meant he didn't have to use his hands.

The conversation slowly dragged on as students waited for their que to leave. I was so disheartened by their collective response, that I was incredibly grateful when my supervisor, who is a full-time missionary, shared with the group a story from her year spent in Kyrgyzstan. Her time spent in Central Asia deeply resonated with me as I reflected on my own experiences in Uganda.

Once the group was dismissed, my co-worker and I tore down posters and packed up literature and left. On my way out I was greeted by a familiar face- a girl I had worked with in the summer- who was begging to pawn off cookies left over from a Bake Sale fundraiser. I made a very small contribution to her table and received three platefuls of cookies in return. I got into my car, heading home and I emotionally broke down. I hysterically sobbed as I recalled the bowls of uneaten rice, sure to be thrown away and glanced at the plates of unnecessary calories sitting on my passenger seat. I needed to talk with someone who understood the pain I was going through. I didn't know why I reacted as strongly as I did, but I knew how terribly unfair it was that while raising awareness for families all over the world who would have given anything for that bowl of rice I was greeted by a night full of wastefulness, arrogance and apathy. I remembered sitting in the dining hall at UCU and watching as three small children rifled through the garbage, picking out uneaten rice and putting it in dirty plastic bags to take home with them- the pain was enormous.

I texted my supervisor and asked if I could pay her a visit at her home. The time spent with her was a tremendous relief- it just felt good to be in the company of someone who had witnessed that sort of poverty firsthand and could uplift and encourage me. When I went to bed that night, I was full of hatred and disgust. When I woke up this morning, I had a fresh outlook and came to the stark realization that while I was so quick to judge the ignorance at the banquet the night before- what was I doing to combat poverty?? Now, I realize that serving with AmeriCorps does qualify, but too often I feel I use that as my "Get out of Service Free" card. So with this newfound insight and motivation, I developed a plan to start changing my lifestyle and quit living like a stereotypical American, but living like a thoughtful member of this global community, who just so happens to currently reside in the States.

Allow me to share my newfound goals:
1) I have been given the tremendous blessing of...Food Stamps. This means that every month, because of my lack of income, my government provides me with $176 to use toward the purchase of food so that I don't ever go hungry. Knowing that I have a guaranteed food allowance every month is a tremendous priviledge and so I've made the decision that at the end of every month, whatever is currently residing in my pantry (disregarding spices and baking materials) and has been left unopened will be donated to the local ministry which distributes groceries weekly to about 150 families.
2) All this coincides with the news that as of April, I am obligated to being paying back my private student loans at a rate of $540/month. Considering I live on no income, this thought absolutely terrifies me, so I've contemplated selling my assets. Well...pretty much the one asset I have- my laptop. Currently my PC serves merely as a radio when I'm in the shower or doing dishes. All of my internet surfing, job hunting and research is done on my work computer anyhow and the worth of that computer could be the equivalent of one month's student loan payment.
3) I have also been blessed with a great apartment that coincidentally is located within a 15 minute walking distance of my office. During the summer, I paid daily visits to program participants, but now that the growing season has been over for quite some time- why am I still driving to work? So this morning, I made the conscious desicion to leave my van curbside, don my Chucks and an umbrella and walk myself to work. The result was a refreshing and wonderful wake-up call and the feeling that not only was I taking part in reducing the amount of pollutants released into my environment, but I was saving money on gas that could be used elsewhere in my strict budget.
4) Today, I also made a conscious decision to fast. As a Christian, I've been taught by numerous religious leaders that fasting is a spiritual discipline in order to demonstrate faith and trust in the Lord. While that is all well and good, I'm choosing to fast beginning today on a once a week basis to be in solidarity with my global neighbors who are going days at a time without a meal, as well as saving money as I mentioned before.

This is my four-fold plan to do my part in alleviating hunger and to live more simply and sustainably. I would encourage you to ask yourselves- given my enormous position of power as a wealthy American citizen (and believe me, you ARE wealthy), what am I doing to confront hunger and poverty in this world? It's time to love as we're called to love- let's not sit on our lazy, priviledged asses while commenting on the heartbreak of a malnourished child. Let's put our priviledged asses to work in combatting the enormous disparity in global food distribution! We enter this world with nothing, and we leave with nothing- it's up to each of us individually to decide what we want to do in between- let's choose to love.

*Hope is Not the Belief that Tomorrow Will Be Better...

I'm entirely clueless about the direction this blog is about to take, however, I'm feeling especially inspired and I can't allow these few-and-far-between instances slip away without some sort of commentary. My story starts last night at Wilmington College's 'Goodies for Goblins'. As the little kiddies stumbled into the cafeteria in their array of ladybug, superhero and fairy disguises, I was donning one of my own. Yes, I was Kaity the Carrot (complete with orange felt carrot suit and a green leaf trucker hat to complete the ensemble, no less) contemplating how on earth I got to this point in taking a position with my AmeriCorps service site.

At the conclusion of my undergraduate career, I contemplated a number of AmeriCorps positions (after having given up the job search after 50+ rejections) and ultimately decided to give Wilmington, Ohio a shot. The program was called Grow Food Grow Hope and my future-supervisors sold me on the idea of working on a community-level to promote sustainable agriculture and access to nutritious food in a town where poverty was rampant. Being an advocate of a complete renovation of our country's food system as well as an idealist in the hope of one day having some kind of positive effect on the issues of global food insecurity, this seemed the perfect stepping stone on my way to single-handedly tackling world hunger (Did I mention I'm an idealist?)

Four months later, the growing season has come to a close and my days are subsequently longer and less activity-filled. The disillusionment has also started to set in and there's an evil little voice in the back of my mind uttering "Are you really doing anything at all to combat poverty and hunger?", "Will this program even still exist a couple years from now?" and "Is anyone truly gaining anything out of my work?" Enter Michael Snarr: Professor of Social and Political Studies at Wilmington College While we had never been formally introduced prior to last night, we were both on each other's radars. Me, because I was a political science major at Eastern and he, because well, he was the professor of social and political studies! He approached me (while in my Carrot garb) and invited me to sit in on his class in which Bart Campolo would be speaking regarding sustainable solutions to alleviating poverty in Haiti.

Fast forward to today. I think Snarr's class got a little bit more than they bargained for inviting a Campolo to come speak. I'd like to think I've been slightly conditioned and know how to respond to wacky, radical evangelicals being an Eastern alum, but his message was no less powerful. If I had to pinpoint the overarching theme of his presenation, I honestly don't know that I'd be able to. However, as I approached him after the class to thank him for inadvertantly encouraging me to continue my efforts in creating a local, sustainable system of food production in light of the economic and environmental degradation going on all around us, he spoke the most beautiful and truthful words I've heard in a long time. I told him how much I cared about my project, but was in need of encouragement to help regain sight of why my work was significant. In response, he passed along this little gem- "Hope is not the belief that tomorrow will be better. Hope is the conviction that what you're doing now is of importance."

Thanks to Bart Campolo, I received a much-needed refresher course on why my work with Grow Food Grow Hope is so important and why I need to continue my efforts in promoting and working toward sustainable solutions to the problem of global poverty. My work has only just begun :)

Impatiently Awaiting my Significance

In the words of my BFNSCF, “Good blog-spiration comes so rarely that it has been nearly torturous having all these things to say and not being able to.” A lot has happened in my life in the last few months, and somehow, despite my vast love for the blogosphere I haven’t made it a point to write. I suppose some serious psychoanalyzing will have to occur to figure out why that is.

In the midst of so much life-changing and post-grad adventure, I think it has something to do with the fact that my life feels so trivial. A couple weeks ago I was organizing my new apartment (hooray!) and happened upon my folder of essays and assignments from my semester in Uganda. Reading through them I was astonished that it was in fact, I, who had written them. Not because I feel like I’ve grown so much since then. But because I feel like I have, in actuality, reverted from the enlightened and intellectual young woman writing about the damaging effects of foreign aid in Africa and paralleling Jack Kerouac’s style in my creative writing class. The young woman whose innermost thoughts I was reading was so far superior to me in every way I shrank in disappointment with myself.

What is even more startling is the fact that I’m not unhappy where I am! I live in a cute little Midwestern town with its own assortment of characters; many of whom I’m blessed to call my friends. My job is exactly what I signed up for and I’m so grateful to have learned as much as I have thus far ad have the autonomy that I have in my position (something not many entry-level workers can claim). And yet, I’m not the same American student at Uganda Christian University that I was over a year ago. Where is my connection with the Creator of the universe? Where is that astounding insight into my character and the characters of others? Where is my sense of significant purpose in this world?

Perhaps it can easily be summed up by the disillusionment that often accompanies the months after ending your undergraduate career. I’m not at all unique in this sort of quarter-life crisis. Or perhaps I should just own up to the fact that I have a redundantly restless spirit combined with a “grass is greener” complex. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because I’ve been kidding myself all this time in thinking I know what I want to do with my life. More than anything, I have to believe that I’ve been destined for great purpose on this earth. Right now, I’m like a petulant child, wanting my time of significance and change to arrive, without paying my dues.

Regardless, I know that I have to keep blogging. And yes, I’m well aware of how gosh-darn corny that sounds. But writing has always been my personal introspective magnifying glass and I have to believe that if I continue these brief glimpses of enlightenment into my own character, maybe, just maybe, I can discover who it is I am today, and who I’m destined to be.

Christ in All Things

Considering how much I love blogging, I really don't do it nearly enough. Perhaps upon the start of the next chapter in my life in Ohio, I'll be a bit more attentive. It's odd- while I'm currently caught up in a whirlwind of life-changing decisions, I'm simultaneously bored silly.

For the last couple weeks following graduation, I've returned home awaiting the day I can depart for Small Town USA, Ohio. I'll be living there for the next year as an AmeriCorps VISTA working with a garden initiative. It's a great program, and I'm so grateful for the opportunity to join the existing team, but the transition has not exactly been stress-free. I've been preoccupied trying to seek out affordable housing, finally get my driver's license to make the drive out there, and purchase my first vehicle. All of this on top of the fact that I don't have nearly as much money saved up as I should. My only source of income as a VISTA will be a $500 monthly stipend that will be used for housing, gas, car insurance and student loans. It's a little stress-inducing.

Luckily, I did check off one item in my list as of yesterday. Introducing, for the first time, MISS CHANANDLER BONG, a 1999 purple Dodge Caravan. It probably would not have been my first choice, but I am so fortunate to have a step-dad who found it for me, and a mom who's willing to help me pay for it. My mom has been so amazing throughout this transition, and I know I've added so much additional stress to her already crazy life (the woman works 65+ hours a week!). I am so freaking blessed, it's unbelievable.

So in the midst of all this anxiety, I have, as I mentioned, been struggling to occupy myself during the day-to-day. Such attempts have included: watching the entire Friends series, putting together a yard sale for this weekend, and my new pride and joy, "Christ in all Books". Now what exactly is the latter? I am pleased to announce that I have given myself a little project for the summer (or perhaps longer). My Grandma Ball would be proud.

Since Uganda, I've become even more aware of the presence of Jesus in well, everything. Since I now have so much time on my hands, I'm able to leisurely read for the first time since I entered college! Those two factors got my wheels turning and I began to look for Christ in all the books I'm reading. It hasn't been particularly hard, but it's been so rewarding.

Until the big move, this is how I'm spending my time. But more importantly, this is how God has been revealing Himself to me.

First One(s) at One First

Only in hindsight am I beginning to realize the absolute craziness of the past two days I partook in, so I'm hopping on the blogging bandwagon and thought I'd fill you all in. It began in a little class called Constitutional Law. For our class project our professor thought she'd try something new and have a role play/simulation of a case that was to be brought before the U.S. Supreme Court in April. The case was Christian Legal Society v. Martinez. Although for the last month or so, my head has been swimming with the details of the case, I'll do my best to give you a brief synopsis.

At Hastings College of Law at the University of California in San Fransisco, there is a non-discrimination policy in place that says that all registered student groups must abide by an "All-Comers Policy." This means that campus groups can't discriminate against anyone who wants to join their club on the basis of race, gender, sexual orientation, etc. Sounds simple enough, right? Except that the Hastings' chapter of the national organization, Christian Legal Society states in their bylaws that members that don't abide by their Statement of Faith are not eligible to become voting members, lead Bible studies, etc. As part of this, CLS has said this includes students who engage in extramarital sexual activity (including homosexual conduct). In response, Hastings has denied the group club recognition status, access to meeting places on campus and funding, among other things, stating that CLS is in violation of the college's non-discrimination policy on the basis that it discriminates against LGBT students. Thus, CLS sued saying that Hastings is violating the group's first amendment rights of expressive association and free speech and that the group is not discriminating on the basis of sexual orientation, but those students whose beliefs are not aligned with the group at large (i.e. sexual conduct).

Long story short- the case is incredibly interesting and when decided will have a huge impact on places of public education across the country. To end our simulation, we came up with the plan to drive the two and a half hour drive down to Washington D.C. to wait it out in front of the U.S. Supreme Court for a coveted ticket in to hear the case be argued.

We departed some time between 8:30-9:00 AM on Sunday to arrive at the Court around noon. A court police officer showed us where to settle for our 22+ hour wait and our group of 10 or so was delighted to find we were the first to arrive. We promptly settled in with our lawn chairs, sleeping bags and loads of homemade goodies. A large group of students left shortly thereafter to explore Union Station and the Capitol building and I attempted (and failed) to get some reading done for a presentation I had to do on Tuesday in my Latin American Politics class. The students returned to our stake-out a little after 1:00 PM and not long after, my friend who lives in D.C. showed up for a long overdue reunion. The last time I saw him was while he came home with Frankie and a few others from his platoon while on leave for Thanksgiving my freshman year. It was the first time we met and we've continued to keep in touch over the past four-ish years whether he was stateside or in Afghanistan. He took me out for lunch at a local pub and we had a great time discussing my two favorite things: politics and music. Who knew that there was someone else in this world that shared my belief that The Beatles are overrated?!

He walked me back to my group and we spent another hour or so catching up before he politely excused himself so I could once again attempt and fail to get any work done. The rest of my time with the group was spent playing rounds of Taboo and Mafia with my classmates and partaking in some excellent bonding time. As the night began to set in I realized my extra pair of socks, sweatpants and winter coat may not be enough to shield me from the below 40 degree weather we were about to experience. Sometime around midnight a couple Georgetown students who were members of their school's chapter of CLS and behind us in line divulged that they were headed to their dorm building to use the bathroom and invited anyone in our group to accompany them. My fellow classmate Tim, and I decided to accept their invitation and I wound up spending the 20-30 round-trip walk discussing the case with a third year Georgetown student named Clifton. He was incredibly knowledgeable and I almost felt bad for him as I peppered him with questions concerning his position and hypotheticals. Upon our departure I was on the fence but leaning more toward Hastings and by the time he was done with me I was much more open to and supportive of CLS' stance.

The majority of my fellow students retired to their sleeping bags soon after I returned while I contemplated what I would do for the next several hours since I already had the unfortunate premonition that I would not be sleeping that night due to the cold. Around 1:20 AM, what we thought was an unpredictable rain storm began to come down on us and it took about a minute while we rushed around gathering our things, for us to realize that there's a reason the Court's landscaping looks so perfectly groomed- sprinklers. Settling down on a new patch of grass it wasn't yet 20 minutes later when the sprinklers on the opposite side of the sidewalk went off, making us doubly wet and chilly. After the not-so-happy campers I was with settled in for a third time, I did my best to combat the bone-chilling night by a second, extended trip to Union Station to soak up the heat, multiple laps around the Supreme Court and a 5:00 am trip to "Pete's Diner" with another student to scarf down some hot, greasy diner food.

Around 6:00 AM, we had packed up all our "camp supplies" in time for another Poli Sci professor to swing by and pick them up. It was a mad dash to get all our things in his sedan in under a minute since the street was a No Parking zone, subject to a $250 fine. At 7:00 AM, the Court officer commanded us to form a single file line up the steps of the plaza where we would remain in the blistering cold for another two-ish hours while we awaited our entry into the Court. Following security, and the storing away of our belongings in the public lockers we made our way to the General Admission line to hear the oral arguments for the case we had so long been preparing for. As this has continued on for long enough already (and truthfully, the exhaustion from my all-nighter has caused me to forget most of what we heard), two of the fun surprises for me were the opportunity to chat with the Georgetown student from the night before as we were seated next to each other and the Principal Deputy Solicitor General under President Obama, Neal Katyal who was in the starring role of a book entitled "The Challenge" concerning the Supreme Court case Hamdan v. Rumsfeld that was required reading for our class, was one of the attorneys for the case that was heard after the CLS case.

All-in-all, the experience made for a great story and to be inside the Supreme Court and witnessing the discussion between nine of our nation's most powerful and prestigious political actors left me completely awestruck. I haven't yet decided if I'd be willing to do it again, but for a one-time experience it was definitely worth it! Oh, and before I retire let me just say- I'd encourage you all to ask me questions about the case, since I am by now, an expert.