Power of the People- SOA

“Non violence is not inaction... It is not for the timid or weak…Non violence is hard work. It is the willingness to sacrifice. It is the patience to win.”
-Cesar Chavez












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There is no place to start.

With an issue that has such deep roots, and a cause with so many different facets, there is no place to start.

I had no idea where to start this journey myself. Before leaving, I had no idea how to conceptualize what I was getting myself into or the way things were going to be once I got there. The School of the Americas is such an intense issue, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t see the argument the “other side” makes about the issue. But from what I saw, and from what I experienced…it was a simple issue with a simple starting point.

The vigil.
It started with the first name. It started with the name being read and the crowd lifting their crosses and saying in unison, “presente.” It continued for over 2 hours. For over two hours on Sunday morning I heard the names of those who have lost their lives due to the training that the SOA provides. Children, teens, adults, elderly, they found commonality in their death. With each and every name read, it started again, because each and every name had significance, just as each and every name before and after it had. And when the names stopped, when the litany ceased, it did not end. There will be more, there are more, for this, there may be a clear beginning, but there is no clear end.

The spirit.
It started in peace. From the moment I arrived I felt it: these were my people. I spent the weekend surrounded by people who believe in goodness. They did not travel from across the country to point out the presence of evil in the world, but to present the possibility of peace. I stood in mass on Saturday evening with thousands of other people, and felt the spirit. These people were not here to get their weekend Mass cards punched, they were there because they are Catholic for the same reasons I am. Because they believe in goodness, they believe in peace, but mostly because they believe in humanity. And this, it began in peace, but it continued forth in hope.

The reality.
It started with the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation. It started with spreading the ideal of democracy further into our world. I understand the ideals under which it began, and under which it theoretically operates today. However it is simple: The ideals for which it theoretically teaches aside, many of the graduates of the SOA have gone forward to commit some of the worst offenses to humans rights in our lifetimes. The fact is that the skills that they are learning are aiding them in violating our human race. Where it started may be unclear, but where it ends is pretty clear to me…it ends with two hours worth of names of those who have lost their lives in the name of “security cooperation.” It begins in a place where we teach Latin American soldiers warfare, and ends with the loss of lives, over and over again.

But the real question is. When does it end?

The fact is I could go on for days. But that’s the idea. In the big picture, this may be about putting an end to the SOA. But for me, this is about a place to start. I didn’t sit in a van for 40 hours because it was the cool thing to do, or because I thought it would be nice to get out of the city. I did it because I believe in it.

And I saw 20,000 other people who believe in it too.

And I heard them chanting, “Ain’t no power like the power of people, because the power of people don’t stop!”

And the fact is, its true.

And the fact is, there is hope.

Non-violence is more than hippie idealism.
It is compassion.
It is love.
It is understanding.
It is solidarity.

Compassion. Love. Understanding. Solidarity.

I think that’s it. That is where to start.

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“When all people are free to ask why, to say I love you, to say no; when everyone is cared for, sheltered, fed; when we are all able to live where we want and leave when we wish; then we will know peace.”
-Jesse M. Kahn

Proud to be an American

I'm not ashamed to say that I am again proud to be an American.

I'm not ashamed to say that in the past, it's been difficult for me to be proud to be an American. I have seen and heard where the rest of the world stands and I have heard their complaints loud and clear.

To clarify, this does not mean I do not recognize the privileges I have had, but I know that my national origin is not the reason for many, if not all, of those privileges, for there are many of my fellow Americans who were not given those same opportunities. I received a valuable education, but the children Hannah works with in the Bronx are American citizens as well, so why don't they deserve the same right to quality education? If my status as an American is why I received that, why not all? Maybe it was my status as a white middle class American instead...

It is easy to say I take my American identity for granted because I have never had to fight for it. But for me, maybe fighting for my American identity has been less about fighting terrorists and more about preserving and caring for the American people. We can go around the world to take down leaders who force injustices upon their people, but injustices happen here, daily. It is an injustice that 3 elementary schools in the Bronx are operating out of one building because they failed No Child Left Behind. It is an injustice that a woman fights for her life every time her husband or partner tried to possess it for himself through violence. It is an injustice that Americans go hungry, cold, without shelter.

And those are just a handful of the injustices happening everyday in our great country.

I think we can do better.

When I hear the far right with their cries of, "Kill the terrorists before they kill my family!." It makes me sad. It makes me sad that they live in a world driven by fear and that they are in a constant state of defense. Liberals may have gained the reputation of being angry, but we are angry because we know the world and our country can be better.

But what baffles me more than the cries of the far right with their preemptive violence are the cries of the "Conservative Christians." In one breath I hear that I should value life, do God's work and preach the gospel. Yet from the same mouth, I hear support of the death penalty, war and the question, "Why should my hard earned money pay for some lazy guy's handouts?"

And so comes the question these "Christians" love to ask, "What would Jesus do?"

Jesus fed the hungry and clothed the naked. He didnt ask how they got there or why they are hungry.
Jesus practiced compassion.
Jesus didn't only tolerate, Jesus accepted. No matter who you were, gay, straight, prostitute, nun, liberal or conservative.

In my mind, it doesn't matter if a person is on welfare because of their own fault, mistakes, or due to outside circumstances. Every person deserves dignity, food and shelter.

It's simple.

Whether it is God, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, or any other figure you believe in, or dont, the fact remains, humans have worth. Humans have worth no matter their circumstances.

So with this election, with this new leader, lets not turn the angry left into the angry right. At this point, in this world, this can no longer be about me or you or the guy down the street, its about US.

Maybe beginning at home, but reaching into the world.

So now, I AM proud to be an American because I see hope, dignity and love.

And those are things that everyone deserves.



"Si quieres paz, lucha por la justicia"

Changing Seasons

"It is better to be interested in the changing seasons, than hopelessly devoted to the spring."


Fall has been slowly making its presence known here in the city, but it has been a slow process. Once the familiar nip in the air began, it was still a week until there was any change in the trees...and yet I still keep hearing rumors that the trees don't change here in the city thanks to something they call 'pollution.' But today as I was on a run in Central Park, I didnt need anyone to tell me the way fall in NYC is...I felt it, smelled it and saw what fall was. I saw dark red, yellow and orange leaves falling to the ground. I smelled the leaves mixing with the smell of the grass and I felt a warm day that held the promise of cooler days to come.

I have noticed that people slow down in the fall. They take the time to look up at the trees and play before cold and snow overtake the landscape. If I had a say in such things, this is the pace I would choose for life to be at...slow because of the the promise of change in the air.

With the exception of an afternoon in Central Park, there is nothing slow about life these days. As of now, I am officially booked until Christmas. Every weekend, everyday. Its not all bad, in fact...none of it is bad, but a bit overwhelming, yes.

Last Sunday I had a rather overwhelming reminder of the fact that I have amazing people in my life who love me to the ends of the earth. In one day, three different people booked flights to come see me. Who knew people liked me so much? I certainly didn't.

So between the four visitors I will be having between now and Christmas and weekend sales with HandCrafting Justice...crazy might be an understatement, but I wouldn't change it for the world.

This city continues to keep me well entertained as well...last weekend exploration of the Upper West Side, Central Park and Brooklyn lead to interesting adventures, but didnt lead to home until the not-so-wee-hours of the morning. I learned that a "rougue train" should be factored into a trip to and that service changes should be fully understood before boarding the train. This weekend, Greenwich Village, Union Square and Washington Square Park occupied the days, along with a few cupcakes from the renowned "Magnolia Bakery."

Tomorrow it is back to work and an evening at Tavern on the Green "meeting and greeting" for Good Shepherd Services.
This life, it may be crazy, but I'll take it.

Childlike Wildlike

On the day I turned 22, I spent the afternoon in Old Town Sqaure, Prague and the evening with new friends, exploring the nightlife of one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

On the day I turned 23, I spent the day at work, doing a job that I fully believe is making a difference to someone in the world and spent the night with new friends in New York City, walking through Times Square and exploring the nightlife in the city they call, "the center of the universe."

Sometimes my life overwhelms me, in the best possible way.

But I could do without this 178% humidity. I could do without my towel still being damp 48 hours after I last showered and I could do without the condensation on any item taken out of the refrigerator.

On Tuesday, the roommates and I had a day of forced introspection at an Enneagram personality type workshop. And though I am a skeptic who puts a lot of faith in reliability and validity, (neither of which this "test" has) I can see the potential good that could come out of taking a look at who we are and who one another are. The way I deal with things is not going to be the same way everyone in the house does, and knowing where they are coming from can be a valuable tool for this whole "community building" thing.

Now, forced introspection isnt my favorite thing in the world, but I have to admit, there were a few realizations I had.
1) Even though I wish that I was a person who used her heart for decision making purposes, I'm not.
2) Thinking gets me far in life, and sometimes gets me in trouble.
3) Ask me what I feel, I will tell you what I think.
4) Turns out I am a "5."

Wonderful, I am a "5," what does that mean? Well, you see, it means that though I like to think of myself as a person who uses her heart for those decision making purposes, I actually use my head. According to the typography, I am mentally alert, good at observing, have generally modest needs, independent, yet detached, a good listener, non-critical, gentle, introverted and private, and when I feel safe I can be expressive, friendly and talkitive... But then on the other hand, for most "5's" privacy can turn to lonliness, feelings are disconnected to thoughts, they can be stingy with emotions, and are often frightened of center stage and more than anything, a "5" hates the feeling of foolishness.

And I sit here, still a skeptic, but I have to admit, that typography just described me in a nutshell.
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Today is my first real day off in over two weeks. I didnt know I had it in me to be such a workaholic, or that I could work 100 hours in two weeks and still be a happy person.

A large reason in why I took this position was because of the potential connections that it could make me and the obvious valuable experience. Last weekend, while working 18 hours in two days, I saw this beginning to materialize in front of me. I headed up my first sale, I spoke in front of hundreds of people about the mission of HCJ and we sold over $5,000 worth of goods. And furthering the success of the weekend, the nuns who helped us were fabulous. They spoiled us rotten, making sure that we were well taken care of...and they happen to work for an NGO at the UN. I may have worked 18 hours and been exhasusted by the end of Sunday, but I now have the cell phone number of a woman who is expecting me to come visit her at the UN, who has promised to introduce me to others and who assured me she would get me a badge to get into the Commission on the Status of Women.

I'd say it was worth the 18 hour work weekend.

So, after my one little day off, I go into another work week tomorrow. I dont mind.

And as for my 23rd year, it was more than I ever could have imagined.

And as for my 24th? Already, I know it holds extraordinary things, and I cant wait to see what they are.

"Not for Nothing"

To my delight, ginger ale is everywhere here. In every restaurant, every coffee shop, every newsstand, there is ginger ale. It is wonderful.

Also, they drink their coffee with milk here, not creamer. Not that it matters, I am making the transition to black coffee as we speak.

I had my first minor bout of homesickness this last week, brought on by the frustrations that come with living in community with 6 other people. Luckily my wonderful mother helped me troubleshoot the situation and things have been much smoother since then.

I am learning to appreciate weekends on a whole new level these days. The word “weekend” has a totally different meaning to it when it doesn’t mean writing papers or studying for tests. I can shift my night’s sleep to 4am-Noon and not feel guilty for not getting things done. And after all, this is the city that never sleeps, and while I have to, why not do it all morning and be up all night??

I visited the Met this weekend, for the second time since arriving in this city. This time, I was able to see the things that I really wanted to see, the modern European paintings. I spent almost 2 hours in one section of the sprawling labyrinth of a museum, on my own, and simply happy. Monet, Van Gogh, Manet and Cezanne just have a way…

While at the Bohemian Beer Garden on Friday night I was posed with a question by an outwardly conservative man who was trying to play wingman to his friend, and obviously failing: What is one way that the presidency of George W. Bush has negatively affected me, personally? And while I am more than willing to have a political discussion with someone who has differing views than my own, there were a few things stopping me,
1) I was not at the beer garden to talk politics
2) I typically don’t have these “conversations” with men who are raising their voices and standing threateningly above me.
So, instead if stating one of the many ways in which GWB has impacted my life (Beginning, but not necessarily ending with policies concerning higher education and a job market arguably at its worst since the depression,) I instead said to him, “You see, that’s the difference between you and me. For me, just seeing the negative impacts on those who haven’t been given the opportunities I have is enough.”
I am not sure what kind of response this rising republican broker was expecting in NYC…its not as though there is much of a GOP stronghold here.

Anyhow, continuing in the spirit of those not given the opportunities I have, I attended a 9/11 Unity walk on Sunday evening from Battery Park to Ground Zero. This was put on by an organization called Religions for Peace and brought together religious leaders from across the board. The mission statement for this walk was,
“We walk together as neighbors from many faiths and cultures. We gather in peace to demonstrate our unity, recalling the spirit of togetherness that grew out of 9/11. We commemorate this day because concern for each other’s welfare is the shared hope of us all.”
It was a fascinating experience for me. The religious leaders not only had the opportunity to share their thoughts, but many chose to share with us their traditions and prayers. It was truly a unifying experience, remembering such a tragedy in communion with so many of so many faiths and cultures.

If there is one thing I learned this week it is that remembering 9/11 here in the city is not something that a unity walk is needed for. All week there was a definite presence of helicopters patrolling the skies and on Thursday every single soul seemed acutely aware of the importance of the day. For me, having not been in the city on that day 7 years ago, I felt as though I was an intruder. I saw an entire city remembering and grieving that, which was lost to them that day, and here I am, witnessing something that seems deeply personal to them. I felt honored, but out of place, nonetheless.

And then I went to work on Monday morning to continue my awareness of those without privilege, living in marginalized circumstances, and I was assured again that there are many who don’t have what I do. Therefore, I will continue to work beside them, if not literally, then in my heart and in all of my daily actions.

Joan is my Favorite

This week's #1 moment:

Setting the stage:
Sitting at lunch at HCJ with the rest of the ladies, including Joan, our finance person, who has got to be about 80 years old.

Act 1:

Karen: Did you hear that Sarah Palin has petitioned to keep the polar bears off the endangered species list?

All: Why?

Karen: Well because if they are on the list then their habitat is protected and if their habitat is protected then they cant drill for oil there.

All: Ahhh....

Joan: You know, in the Inuit tradition when a person gets really old they put them on a floating piece of ice and send them off into the ocean to die....I think that's really cruel.

(General agreement is reached that that is a rather cruel way to get rid of the old people)

Joan:...But I would but Sarah Palin on one of those...But I would give her food!

Grounding Myself

Three and a half weeks feels like a lifetime. I feel as though I have been here forever.

I don’t know why people complain that the New York subway is so hard,.. it
speaks English, after all. I don’t have to try to decipher muffled Czech, which is always a plus.

This weekend our friends who are volunteering in New Jersey came to visit for the weekend. On Friday night we made our way to a karaoke bar where the drinks started at $8 and Hannah and I continued with an excellent rendition of RENT’s “Take Me or Leave Me.” And on the way home, a different Hanna (of the hurricane sort) made for a wet trek to the subway. It was an adventure though, which I will never say no to.


And work, psh…piece of cake.

Okay, that’s not totally true…but it makes it no less enjoyable.

Also this past weekend I had the opportunity to attend my first parish sale with HandCrafting Justice. It was only a few block away from where we live, which really didn’t matter when walking through the rain that Hurricane Hanna brought us…you were just as soaked after walking one block as three…Regardless, the sale gave me an opportunity to put what I do everyday in perspective. It allowed me to see other people as excited about the products as I am and as I was taking their money from them, it was satisfying to know where that money goes to, and who it benefits, because it’s not me…but there are women in 20 countries who it does benefit.

To add to my perspective and HCJ experience, I had another outstanding opportunity this week to go to Fordham University to present to a Global Governance course on what we are and what we do at HCJ. It was an odd experience to walk into the building not as a student, but as a presenter, not as their peer, but as someone who had something to offer them and their education. For this course the students have a community service requirement and while we only have the capacity to deal with two weekly volunteers, there were more who wanted to be with us. I ended up with two women who are so excited about what we do and enthusiastic to help. Just like the sale, it was good for me to find other people who are excited about what I do as I am…

Some days, when I am sitting in my office, on the phone with the wholesale director in New Hampshire trying to figure out where the shipment from Indonesia ended up or when I am e-mailing Thailand to ask why we only got 143 of the 153 boxes of pottery, I feel like such a big kid. When people ask me if living with 6 other people in the convent makes for life just like college, I have to say, “No, not even close.” We each work 40 hrs a week at grueling jobs and only receive a small stipend for all of our work. I don’t worry about homework and I do worry if the invoice from Madagascar has been approved so that those women can buy dinner for their family. This isn’t college.

Community life is already interesting, which it was bound to be.

The city has continued to entertain me. Besides karaoke, I have made my way around to a few places. On Labor day, I went to the Met and saw the last day of the Super Heroes exhibit, which was fascinating, even for a non-super hero fan. Due to the fact that I was with three other people and simply due to the sheer size of the Met, I didn’t even get to see the section of European paintings that I wanted to, but it only gives me an excuse to go back.

I have also wandered around Alphabet City (the setting of RENT), gone to a show for a friend’s band in the Lower East Side, went to the Caribbean Festival in Brooklyn and begun to explore my home base of Astoria a bit more. I have seen Times Square both during the day and at night, yet don’t ever feel the need to go back.

The good news: I don’t think I will have a problem occupying myself for the next year.