Latest Enrichment Discussions

I don't know why, but I have failed to write about our last Art Day. Two Fridays ago we got together for our enrichment discussion and did some art together. There was no real theme but this is what we did. Everyone centered themselves. Then we took some time to have an inward conversation. This could be with oneself, with someone else, with God, with an idea, etc. After having this short inner dialogue, everyone was then supposed to identify the main feeling they were having, and after identifying it we all had to explore it. This all lasted about ten minutes, after which we got the paints out and threw those feelings onto paper.

We had a good mix of regular volunteers (Paul, Steve, myself), some sporadic volunteers (Mary-Grace and Liz), and then the guys who intern. It turned out really well. Everyone did something unique, something that expressed what they were feeling as they sat and thought. After spending about 45 minutes painting, in which everyone produced great, personal works, we shared our paintings with each other and in turn let other people analyze the paintings. What happened was quite incredible. We got to peak into each others' minds, but also (and more importantly) each others' hearts. We got to see (literally) what everyone else was feeling. And what was really cool was that when we analyzed each other we could see things that the people themselves could not see. We spent a good hour and a half talking to each other about our paintings and sharing our ideas and insights about them.

Once again I was blown away by what people had to share. It amazes me each time Steve or I or anyone else comes in with a program and the guys take ahold of it. I often think about the guys and how they have to put up a front in order to survive on the streets. And how we are breaking those walls down when we have events like Art Day. It takes a lot of courage to come in and do that. I cannot relate to this. It is expected of me to be able to share my thoughts and feelings with other people. But the guys are not expected to do this. They are not expected to know how and even if they do they are not expected to do it. That would be a sign of weakness. I am proud of what the guys have done.

This last Friday Jared and I put together a program that, more or less, had to do with our own interests. We are both philosophy majors and therefore thought it would be a good idea to share the parable of the cave with the guys, Plato's famous allegory about the education of the human soul and how that relates to the perfect state. Although we are not trying to build the perfect state, the parable of the cave has some great foundational philosophical themes on how we see the world and what it really means to understand what we see. In addition it is easy to draw parallels between the cave and homelessness, more specifically addiction and homelessness.

I mention these qualities of the parable of the cave because they allowed us to have a great conversation. I was a little apprehensive bringing in a subject as abstract as philosophy, but the guys we able to make some great connections. The parable of the cave is so universal and the experience of addiction is so epidemic that the two were fated to collide. After we finished our conversation, which never really ended, I had to cut it short, I asked the guys what they thought about the whole deal. Should I bring in stuff like this in the future? The answer was an astounding yes. I could not believe it. The guys loved the subject and in fact asked me if we could continue it next week, with an intertwined theme of maintaining sobriety. I think we can make it work.

All in all, I am so proud of what the guys have been doing lately. The center has been operating smoothly and attendance is growing for our meetings (even when we don't have food). It's all pretty great. Hopefully we will keep moving forward, something I am not too worried about.

Irony at the Center

Today I found a stack of the New Yorker lying around the Center. I don't know if the material is quite what the guys like, but who am I to judge. As I made room for the extra magazines on the magazine rack I found a few up there that were of interest to me. One was Money. Here are some of the headlines: 5 Rules for Goofproof Investing, Get Rich in Real Estate - The Smart Way and Your Best Year-End Moves In Taxes, Savings, Health Care and More...Now, I am not sure about what anyone else thinks, but I thought this was pretty hilarious. Do the guys at the Center worry about savings? Investing? To me finding one of the guys reading this magazine would be like finding a gay man looking at Penthouse. Probably would not happen. The other magazine that was of interest was diablo: The Magazine of the East Bay. The month's area of interest was: BEST of the East Bay - Our Ultimate Guide to the Good Life. Including...Best Fine Dining, Facial, Boutiques, Day Spa, etc. Once again, I am not sure that this would be of interest to the guys of the Center. Maybe it's just me though.

All kidding aside, I think it is good to really think about the juxtaposition between these magazines and the guys of the Center. The material in the magazines is not necessarily bad. Just as the guys of the Center are not bad. But there is a definite difference in lifestyle, desires, needs, etc. I think we should be aware of those differences. And remember that when helping someone who has a different outlook on life, one must understand and empathize with that outlook. I guess that's it. Sometimes these situations can be pretty funny, though.

Silent Retreat

I had the opportunity this past weekend to attend a silent retreat with my fellow Jesuit Volunteers. If you are unfamiliar with how such a retreat works I will fill you in a little bit, it is not that complicated. One is basically silent at all times, except when speaking with a spiritual director or participating in a prayer service, each of which occurred both days of the retreat. Other than that one is supposed to pray, sleep, reflect, read, walk, eat, relax, sit, etc. Basically one can do anything that does not involve talking, which also includes communication through body language, facial expressions and things of that nature too. It is actually a pretty exciting yet anxious experience because we are not used to engaging ourselves in such personal, reflective solitude. I, for one, enjoyed the experience, but I would not say it was joyous in any way or filled with puppy dogs, rainbows or any other fun bubbly things. It was an intense exploration of my year as a JV at the Center that allowed me to confront such feelings as anger, fear, violence and insanity. Definitely not puppy dogs.

The first day of the retreat, Sunday, went by in a breeze. I attended a prayer workshop, met with my spiritual advisor, slept, prayed, ate, all the stuff I mentioned earlier. Although I did have some issues I wanted to work out in prayer, I would not say that they were super stressful. My advisor, Daniel, recommended short bursts of very relational prayer and that is what I did. I walked with Jesus along the paths of the retreat center, we joked, discussed some minor issues and parted. It was great. I also met with some of the guys from the Center and we worked out some tension. Also fairly simple.

Things started to change Sunday evening. We all met that night to begin a Peace Vigil, a traditional ritual that JVC:Southwest performs as long as there is unnecessary violence in the world. As you can guess, they hold it every year. It starts with a prayer service, there is a candle lighting ceremony, a slow, deliberate walk to the rotunda where the vigil is held, and then peaceful silence throughout the night and into the next morning. There are always at least two JVs holding vigil throughout the night either praying, reflecting, reading journals, writing journals, or at the least staying awake in support of peace. I went to bed Sunday night knowing that I would be holding vigil from 3 to 4 in the morning. This is when the night got interesting.

I awoke, after an already restless night of sleep, at 2:40 am because of a nightmare. This is how it went. I was running home from the T in Boston, which is the public transit they have there, in running shorts, a T-shirt and flip-flops. It was late at night and I knew I was in a bad neighborhood. The air was heavy, the lighting dim and the streets seemed more narrow than usual. Everything felt small and suffocating. I knew, just knew, something bad was going to happen. And sure enough as I was crossing one of the streets I came across a young kid wearing a white tank top and holding two empty fourties. Before I knew what was happening he was threatening me with one of the bottles, broken to create a sharp edge, and I had the other bottle, also broken to create a sharp edge. As we struggled my movements were slow and sluggish. I kept yelling, "No, no, no," over and over again. All I wanted to say was that this was not right, that this should not happen, but only No would come out of my mouth. The kid just looked at me with a blank stare, and calmly replied, "No." He seemed to be saying that what was going to happen was inevitable. It might be meaningless, you may not know my motivation, if there even is one, but nevertheless you cannot do anything about it. And as I continued to blubber all I could think about was what it was going to feel like when the cold, jagged glass hit that vulnerable spot in the front of my neck, letting the life in me seep out. In a blink we were no longer holding the bottles, but we were still at a face off, and I saw a police car a block away. In that instant my heart rose, only to fall just as quickly as I realized the cop was going to continue driving away. The street continued to shrink and as I contemplated running awaythe kid pulled out a gun from behind his back and pointed it at my head. "No," is all he had to say as he again shook his head with that dull look in his eyes. Here my dream ended.

Needless to say I did not fall back asleep before going down to hold my place at the vigil. I also was not feeling very peaceful. But it was a good chance to try and work out this dream, to see if I could engage this character and find Christ in the whole situation. It didn't happen. I spent half an hour thinking through things and praying to no avail. The next 30 minutes were dedicated to sitting and doing nothing. I was spent, I felt as though I could work through the issues with my spiritual advisor the next day. Apparently, however, I had more coming.

The next dream I had was just as violent, even if a little more bizarre. I flashed into a scene in which I was outside of a big stadium. There was a man inside on the top rows who had taken people hostage with a gun. I fired away, almost mindlessly, with a machine gun, tyring to kill this guy. Mind you I have never even held a gun much less fired one. The only idea in my head was that I have to kill the man. I saw innocent people surrounding the guy but decided that it was ok to hit them as long as I also hit the bad guy. Upon later reflection I could not believe that these were my thoughts. This part of the dream ended as it melded into a new theme. There was a crazy, psychotic killer on the loose, running around cutting people up. I found myself in an artillery shed, on a corner in the "bad" part of town. Once again the darkness and layout of the streets was quite suffocating. The whole mood was heavy, dreary, hopeless. I was holding my shotgun telling the clerk that I wanted as much ammo as I could hold, I wanted everything he had. There was a knock on the shed door and I knew instantly that the killer was oustide, waiting for his next victim. As the clerk went outside and around the back of the shed I ran off without my gun or any of the ammunition. I knew the clerk was already dead. I next found myself in a house where the killer just was, destruction everywhere, but the killing weapons left for me to take. I picked up the sharp objects and started to look for the killer. As I found him I no longer had the weapons and I quickly realized that he was a completely insane man with arms flailing, other grotesque movements and incoherent babbling. I found myself on top of this guy, holding him down. His face was distorted, his teeth dirty and crooked and he was trying to bite me. The guy was completely nuts. My dream ended.

That was my night. No bubble gum or birthday cake. I spent the morning ignoring the night, I was not ready to deal with it. I was holding off until I could sit down and talk about it with someone else. Finally 1:30 rolled around and as I sat down across from Daniel I said, "Boy do have have some stuff to share with you." He told me to go ahead and tell my story, which I did. This ended with me asking, "Pretty crazy, huh?" Which got the wonderful response of a slight laugh and a short period of uneasy silence. Daniel helped me out, though, we talked through the dreams, did some analysis, some associations, some connections to the real world, etc. He was very helpful in that he let me identify what the themes were in the dreams, what the things represented to me, and how it all connected to what is going on in my life right now. Without going into too much detail, and knowing that anyone who reads this can probably think of what some of the themes were, I will say that there was a lot of anger in these dreams, a lot of fear, violence and a sense of absurd insanity. Connecting these ideas to reality was not too difficult. There is a lot of anger at the Center, usually not violent, but still always present. There is the violence in the city of Oakland, muggings, shootings, etc. There is the threat of violence at the Center. There are mentally unstable people who we work with. And I know that even though I am not usually afraid of these things, there is an underlying sense of unconscious fear in what I do. There it was, everything was covered, but I still had not resolved anything.

Daniel and I continued to discuss other things, but at the end of our meeting he looked at me seriously and said, "You have to pray about this, you have to engage what is going on here." I knew he was right and thought to myself that I was going to confront Jesus with these problems. I would set myself up in some kind of discussion and we would beat the answers out. This was not as easy as it might appear. I spent all day thinking about other things, and when I tried to pray about it it was just too hard. I could not find the right way to access the problem, I could not find the right way to approach Jesus with what I wanted to talk about. More importantly I was afraid that when I confronted the problem and tried to work through it I would not be able to find any answers. I felt paralyzed.

The day continued into the night and still nothing happened. At 7:30 we had a prayer service that stressed healing and gratitude. Even though there was some good stuff involved I did not get as much from the service as I could have becuase my mind was in other places. At the end of the prayer service, as everyone else was leaving, I decided to stay not really knowing what I was going to do. I enjoyed the chapel. It had a sense of history to it. I could tell that it was built with purpose and with care. The wooden beams holding up the roof reminded me that it was built in a time before our own. I suppose I was simply feeling a little nostalgic. The lights were dim in the chapel, just as they had been in my dreams. As I looked to the front of the building I started to observe the crucifix. The only bright lights in the whole chapel were mounted on the back of one of the support beems and they focused on the representation of Jesus hanging on the cross. As I sat there a little longer it suddenly hit me. This is were I had to access the anger and violence and insanity in my dreams, and it was the only way in which I could still hold onto God.

My previous meetings with Jesus were pretty cordial. Even though we discussed some serious topics we could still laugh and joke with each other. This situation was different. I was going to deal with a dying man. But not just that, one who had been betrayed, beaten, ridiculed, humiliated and then strung up on a big piece of wood. As I approached Jesus the air was cold and just a little wet, enough to make your skin dry and cause some irritation both inside and out. I looked up and said, "I have to talk to you about something." Jesus' head snapped down towards me, his eyes completely black, almost empty as he yelled, "What do you want now?" The earth seemed to tremble a bit. I was taken back by his anger, so uncharacteristic of him. "I need to talk to you about something," I answered with whatever courage I had left. Again he violently looked at me, this time with even more passionate anger. "Look at me, Tom. " And as I looked he explained, "I have a crown of thorns on my head. My body is full of welts and cuts. There are huge, rusty nails going through my hands and feet." His voice was still angry and I did not blame him. The scene was gross. Blood and sweat was everywhere, both dripping and dried. Every breath was disgusting, his body lurching to stay alive. It looked as though at any moment his body would simply rip and fall off of the cross, his skin and muscles looked so weak. It must have been unbearable pain. I did not know what to do or say. I was at a loss for how to approach this once beautiful and gentle man. And without even thinking I asked, "Well, is there anything I can do for you?" More quickly than I would have guessed, and with his eyes shut Jesus answered, "I could actually use a few vicodin." In an instant the whole scene changed and I found myself speaking with the once again humorous, yet informative, son of man. I finally got it. All I had to do was ease his pain. And to get there all I needed to do was ask some simple questions. Lesson learned. This is how I must deal with the people in my life. Most of the anger that I see stems from some sort of past painful experience or continuing painful experience. And even though everyone is different and every situation is different, asking a few simple questions will often lead in the right direction to solving the problem. But I still felt a little uneasy about my dreams and dealing with absurd situations. As if he could see what I was thinking, in fact as if he was reading my mind, Jesus said to me, "Do not worry about being right and wrong. There is no right or wrong answer. And there are going to be absurd situations that you have to deal with. Nevertheless, all you can do is seek to alleviate the pain by asking questions and formulating a plan of action. The only "right" way to go about all of this is to follow your heart." Wow, I thought, I guess that's it. Jesus continued, "That is all I can do for you, and they say I'm God. The rest is up to you, buddy."

So that is what I learned this weekend and that is what I seek to bring back to the Center. There is a lot of anger and fear in our lives. With that comes the possibility of violence and absurd situations. For the most part I am not in control of what kind of people or what kind of situations present themselves to me. Therefore I cannot do anything about that. But when I do engage these people and situations I must be willing to ask questions so that I can hopefully alleviate some of the pain that they feel. I may not always be right, but as long as I stick to my heart I can never go wrong.

Dignity and Respect

Some of the meetings that we have had (Friday meetings) have really turned out well. About a month ago we had a meeting in which all we did was share something special with the group. Some people brought in readings, some people brought in pictures and others simply brought in stories to share. A lot of people came and just about everyone had something to bring to the group. What I thought was the best part of the deal was that people opened up like I have not seen before. The things that they brought to the group really meant something to them, and I could tell. I think the group could tell too, because as soon as one person opened up others felt comfortable too. I walked home beaming, knowing that something really good just happened.

Today we had a meeting in which the guys got to talk about self-advocacy. They are getting the chance tomorrow to speak with people from the conferences, representing the Center as well as homelessness in general. Today was our pregame meeting, a chance to prepare thoughts and ideas. The guys opened up, just as before, and we discussed many topics. What we wanted to do was talk about the things that make people homeless and the things that keep them there. A number of ideas came up, such as legal problems and the type of behavior that the streets promote (stealing, lying, etc.) More importantly we discussed the relationsip between the haves and have nots. That is, those with money and resources to help and those who are homeless. There were two main ideas that came from these brainstorms.

The first is the idea of respect. One man said that above anything he would teach his fellow peers self-respect. This before mathematics, biology, economics, etc. That is how important the idea of respect is. It is the idea of having a little bit of pride, not too much but enough to promote self-sufficiency. In addition to this idea is that the guys want to feel respected by everyone else. Not just each other but by the rest of society. They want people to know and understand their stories. They want to be able to wear acceptable clothes and have better teeth. In sum, they want to be respected. If others can see that homeless people are human too, then the gap that separates them becomes that much smaller.

The second idea is related, and if not more important than the first then at least more foundational. It is the idea of sharing experiences. The idea of inviting those with the money and resources to walk with the homeless guys. It is only in sharing with each other that we can really understand each other. If people would actually come down to the Center and see for themselves what is going then maybe that would ignite the flame to help. If only people were forced to put themselves in the shoes of the homeless, then they would understand what it takes to prevent people from becoming homeless and in addition how to help them get out of homelessness. I say that the two ideas are related because when people come together and walk together, and therefore start undertanding each other, then they can start to respect each other.

So today was a good day and I hope that tomorrow goes just as well, with some actual results. It seems to me that if we can get the homeless together with those who have some resources, we all have enough common sense and altruism to figure out a way to help.

psychology

It has been difficult for me at times to connect with the people I work with. This is not something that I feel bad about, but something that I do wish to change. The problem, in my eyes, stems from the different backgrounds from which we come. I have never had to worry about a place to sleep, where my next meal was coming from, drug abuse all around me, etc. I have only had to worry about how my athletic team was performing, what private college I was going to attend and what kind of grades I needed to achieve. I do not think I will receive a lot of challenge if argue that these are quite different worries.

So how can a person like me help those whose psychology is so different? Our lives are lived in our heads. This is where we process our perceptions, formulate reactions and then actually thrust our decisions into existence. So while we do live in the physical world and people can see what we are like on the outside (because of the things we say and DO), everything that invloves our living must pass through our brains. Our individual psychologies have everything to do with how we live our lives. Therefore, in order to help those with whom I work, I must understand where they come from and why they do the things they do. The guys who come to the shelter will have much different thought patterns than I would use. So how do I understand people with different minds than myself?

This year has been important to me in two important ways. The first is that I have been exposed to literature and ideas that deal with social justice. I think that it is easy to get lost in mainstream society. That is, when we do not have to worry about the basic necessities of life we begin to worry only about the extras and forget that many people (in fact most of the world) do have to worry about food, shelter, etc. Luckily, being involved with JVC has exposed me to writers, articles and people who advocate for these kinds of causes. What is important is the exposure. Ignorance is one of the biggest barriers to creating equality in our society. It is not so much that we are dealing with a bunch of greedy people (although this is a problem), but that the many people do not know what it is actually like (besides some romantic vision of homelessness on TV) to be homeless and living in poverty. I say this because I believe that people have good enough hearts that if they really knew how bad life is for the homeless population they would offer some kind of help.

The other important experience that I have had this year is even more important than reading an article or talking to a peer. It is the actual physical exposure that I have had down at the Center and in places such as Tijuana. We need to see things to really feel them. We need to smell them too. We need to eat the meals that homeless people eat day in and day out. When I left Tijuana I felt broken. When I leave the Center some days I feel helpless. We need to have these feelings to help motivate us to act. I do not think that sitting on our yacht or spending time at the summer home will motivate us to give something up. In all honestly that life is just too good, too hard to give up. We need the actual homeless exposure.

And so to hopefully wrap things up a bit, these are the two experiences that have helped me identify with the guys at the Center. This may sound a bit simple, but it is not. We can all talk about immersing ourselves, but to actually do it is what is hard. As a member of JVC and the Center I have been forced to read the literature that deals with homelessness and poverty. Working in the Center has forced me to look at and smell homelessness every day. I cannot forget it (as much as I sometimes I want to). I still do not understand everyone perfectly, and I know that I never will. But it is good to be able to identify where people are coming from and why they are acting the way they do. If anything it keeps me in check. And this is why I believe anyone who says they really want to help must stay current on what is being written and must volunteer their time with the homeless. It is the only way to understand the problem and get motivation to actually help.

Mexico

I had the opportunity this weekend to have dinner in Tijuana. One reason to go there is for the outrageously cheap food. Another reason is for perspective. I did not believe that an imaginary boundary could cause such a physical, social and cultural difference is such a short geographical distance. It is as if the sun shines a little differently once you cross the border. Not only does Tijuana look different (temporary walls for walkways falling down everywhere, boarded windows on many of the buildings), but it smells different. Once across the border there is a huge, visible sewage conduit that also serves as housing for the homeless. The beggars are no longer only adults, but little children who walk up to you, run into you and then walk with you as they beg for anything you may have. One cannot get angry with this behavior. As I walked through the streets with my friend she explained to me what she had learned of the human trafficking problem. Eight to twelve year old girls are told that they are getting help to cross the boarder only to end up in a back alley where they will spend the next years of their life offering services to men 3 or 4 times their age. Until they contract a disease of course. Soon they offer only blank stares and their dehumanized bodies, and arenot even given the right to talk. No one does anything about it.

I left Mexico with a pain inside me, with a sadness that I feel has attached itself and has no desire to leave. I suppose this is a good thing. Until now I did not understand the different faces that poverty wears. I would never identify was I saw and experienced in Tijuana as the same as what I work with here. This does not change or lessen our problem. What it has made me realize is that we DO have government programs that help our poor (even though I am critical of the relative budgets we have for defense vs. education, health care, social services, etc. - we still offer some relief). And we DO have non-governmental programs such as St. Vincent de Paul. Now, there may be some help in Mexico, but we do some good things here that they do not. There are services for the homeless, mentally ill and addicted of Oakland, we just have to get people using them. And as we are doing that hopefully we can start making the social changes that seek to reduce poverty, homelessness and addiction.

I do not even know where I would start in Tijuana. But I am glad that I am working with a program like JVC and that I am placed with St. Vincent de Paul. We have the ability to do good things each day and make changes that will hopefully stick well into the future.