Going to Kenya was a dream, and I had high hopes for a life-changing experience that met all my expectations (don't we all??). To make a really long story short, my experience was everything I didn't expect and all I didn't hope for, full of disappointments, frustrations, and confusion. (My blogs from Kenya are in the archives if you care to venture into them....) It took me a full year to process it. The overall message was this: I thought I would want to be a full time missionary, I thought I would be doing great things, and I thought I would be changed as I made a difference. I didn't make one bit of difference, I saw no fruit, I was sad all the time, I was lonely and cried. I didn't understand my purpose, I felt useless. I gained no passion. God has a way of humbling us, and teaching us through humility and mercy. Spending 3 months with only God to comfort is a unique opportunity, as well as not doing anything we would consider productive. God was calling me to himself, teaching me to be a learner, and ultimately to find my worth ONLY in Him. My identity cannot and must not come from being a missionary or anything else. Coming back from that trip I knew two things, I wanted to be in a more diverse setting, and I was ready to be productive again (I didn't know at the time that wasn't exactly the point...).
I threw myself into a millions things: Trying to keep up with every friend, two jobs, coaching hockey, volunteering at Gillette Children and the Salvation Army, trying to go to mass weekly, and getting involved at Sanctuary Covenant Church (www.sanctuarycov.org) by volunteering in a few areas. I chose to settle at Sanctuary for three reasons-I needed to finally just pick a church and stay put, I wanted to be at a covenant church, and it was an intentionally diverse community with music I really connected with.
I kept up this crazy routine for about 6 or 7 months until two friends called me out. I remember sitting on Leah's bed with Steph and Leah at my side, and gently telling me I needed to stop. They prayed for me, and from there I decided to have one job and one volunteer thing. In hindsight, I was doing all these things that made me worthy after the shameful experience of having nothing to tell after being in Africa. To be busy with different jobs and volunteering gave me so much purpose and worth-I didn't have to think about it I could just rest in that.
I started working at a school in northeast Minneapolis as a Special Ed teacher assistant. I was in an almost all African-American and African school with almost all white staff in a very Somali neighborhood. I was really excited about this, and eventually let go of my other two jobs to just be working 30 hours a week at the school. The volunteer experience I decided to stick with was at Sanctuary's Community Development Cooperation. It was a group for girls called Beautiful http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TI-fkkH-4NQ At this point I had volunteered one hour a week through the spring of 2007, and I had decided to stick with it for this upcoming school year (2010). I have to say this was actually the one volunteer thing I was sort of unsure of, because I was the most uncomfortable in it and seemingly useless. But I felt God told me to stay with it, so that is why I chose that.
I need to stop to say a word about Beautiful here. When I started with it was at a school in North Minneapolis (which was an area of town I didn't realize existed). I showed up at the school, my second time on the northside, and nervously entered into the building that said "Jambo!" (A swahili greeting, which is the language of Kenya) on the door. I was immediately startled by the all the students flooding the halls-none being white. Besides one white teacher I eventually saw, all staff and students were black. I was very aware of my whiteness. About 15 girls met in the library lead by a woman named Tryenyse, and there I sat. Listening to middle school aged girls get worked up about everything and anything, speaking so fast, and using so much slang that I missed have of what was being said. Week after week I came, listening, not sure how to contribute, how to interact, and being very uncomfortable in my own skin. I remained quiet, asked Tryenyse sometimes what different phrases meant, and was able to offer up my one contribution: have a manicure day. Great, glad I could paint their nails and really influence their life. We finished the school year and I went on to help a little in the summer. We were at a different school this time, so I got lost plenty of times in North Minneapolis. I really liked Tryenyse, and like the girls that were in the program, I just felt very unsure of myself, shy, and mostly observant. So, when the summer was done and the opportunity to continue on through the fall came, I was hesitant, but followed what God was asking.
So I started fall of 2007 living in the highland area of St. Paul (my dream living situation) in a cutesy apartment with my dear friend Mel, working in Northeast in a diverse school, attending Sanctuary, and volunteering 3 days a week for Beautiful at a school called Afrocentric Academy with Tryenyse and another woman named Stacie. There are four significant things that happened in this year (from fall 2007-spring 2008) that shaped so much of where I am now: working with Beautiful, asking Tryenyse to mentor me, spending intentional time just being before the Lord and listening, and taking a class starting in January of 2008 called City Matters.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
My Story (Part 1)
I am going to share my journey of the last three years, and the events that lead up to it. I am really excited about the places God has been taking me, and I find this is an easier way to share the intricacies of His faithfulness, as well as remember and reflect on the journey as I live it out.
There was something about African culture that always intrigued me growing up. I can recall three specific things that shaped a lot of my thoughts. In Sunday School at Maplewood Covenant Church we had some sort of VBS program when I was in elementary school, and the theme revolved somehow around African Safari. I remembering watching a video that was somewhere in Africa, and the cardboard display that was in the front of the fellowship hall. Jungle, lions, and probably more-but whatever it was it sparked something deep within me that told me I had to go there.
Not too long after that I started reading a series we had in our church library about a young girl whose parents were missionaries in Kenya, and the adventures she created for herself in that beautiful country. It was then I knew I had to go to Africa.
The time line is blurry, but at one point in my youth I read the American Girl Doll book series about a little girl named Addie, who was born into slavery. The books take you on the journey of her life as she escapes slavery and tries to begin a new life with her family as free people.
In my mind I didn't know the depth of the connection I was making with African culture and African American, but there was an excitement I had about African culture, and an profound sorrow for the state of African American's in the United States during and after slavery. My young mind developed an interest in the history of the oppressed, and I continued to read historical fiction that centered around slavery. Meanwhile, I imagined myself as Addie on her journey, as well as more lighthearted play with a rather diverse group of dolls and barbies I had collected.
Now, growing up I could count the number of black people I knew on my right hand. I didn't ever question why that was, or imagine that oppression could exist today in the ways it has in the past. I understood slavery as an event that already took place and was over and done. I also didn't know anything of the civil rights movement and how recent that was history. What I knew was what read-history. What I knew is what I saw-easy, "reconciled", rich diversity on television. The Cosby Show for one. I wondered how to get thick pig-tails like Rudy or long rope-y hair like Denise. LaVar Burton brought a great tapestry to my imagination on Reading Rainbow. The most poignant memory I have is of Sesame Street. There was one scenario where there is a little white girl who lives in the suburbs with a black friend. First, the black friend visits the white girl and they play at her house. I honesty don't remember what they do there. What I recall with distinction is the white girl visiting the black girl, who lives in the city on a busy street with tall apartments. The mom spends time rapidly braiding the girls' hair, they have black barbies to play with, and then they go outside and double dutch on the sidewalk. That is what I wanted. (Little did I know that in May 1970, a state commission in Mississippi voted to ban Sesame Street. A member of the commission revealed the vote to the New York Times, saying that "Mississippi was not yet ready" for the show's integrated cast.)
I am sure there was probably more, those are the instances I can remember that made me desire the justice for slavery, seeing the city, and going to Kenya. Traveling to Kenya was really high on my list, so when I had a chance to choose my own in adventure in college Africa made my list.
I went to Urbana, a mission conference in 2003, and was determined to find an organization to travel with to Africa. I went to all the booths that had Africa on the list, and one in particular stuck out to me. After meeting with a representative, I knew I could finally make my dream come true. I originally had plans to go for three weeks in the summer of 2005, but that didn't work out and I ended up making a 3 month trip in the fall of 2006. What was to come was not at all what I had anticipated or could have imagined.
There was something about African culture that always intrigued me growing up. I can recall three specific things that shaped a lot of my thoughts. In Sunday School at Maplewood Covenant Church we had some sort of VBS program when I was in elementary school, and the theme revolved somehow around African Safari. I remembering watching a video that was somewhere in Africa, and the cardboard display that was in the front of the fellowship hall. Jungle, lions, and probably more-but whatever it was it sparked something deep within me that told me I had to go there.
Not too long after that I started reading a series we had in our church library about a young girl whose parents were missionaries in Kenya, and the adventures she created for herself in that beautiful country. It was then I knew I had to go to Africa.
The time line is blurry, but at one point in my youth I read the American Girl Doll book series about a little girl named Addie, who was born into slavery. The books take you on the journey of her life as she escapes slavery and tries to begin a new life with her family as free people.
In my mind I didn't know the depth of the connection I was making with African culture and African American, but there was an excitement I had about African culture, and an profound sorrow for the state of African American's in the United States during and after slavery. My young mind developed an interest in the history of the oppressed, and I continued to read historical fiction that centered around slavery. Meanwhile, I imagined myself as Addie on her journey, as well as more lighthearted play with a rather diverse group of dolls and barbies I had collected.
Now, growing up I could count the number of black people I knew on my right hand. I didn't ever question why that was, or imagine that oppression could exist today in the ways it has in the past. I understood slavery as an event that already took place and was over and done. I also didn't know anything of the civil rights movement and how recent that was history. What I knew was what read-history. What I knew is what I saw-easy, "reconciled", rich diversity on television. The Cosby Show for one. I wondered how to get thick pig-tails like Rudy or long rope-y hair like Denise. LaVar Burton brought a great tapestry to my imagination on Reading Rainbow. The most poignant memory I have is of Sesame Street. There was one scenario where there is a little white girl who lives in the suburbs with a black friend. First, the black friend visits the white girl and they play at her house. I honesty don't remember what they do there. What I recall with distinction is the white girl visiting the black girl, who lives in the city on a busy street with tall apartments. The mom spends time rapidly braiding the girls' hair, they have black barbies to play with, and then they go outside and double dutch on the sidewalk. That is what I wanted. (Little did I know that in May 1970, a state commission in Mississippi voted to ban Sesame Street. A member of the commission revealed the vote to the New York Times, saying that "Mississippi was not yet ready" for the show's integrated cast.)
I am sure there was probably more, those are the instances I can remember that made me desire the justice for slavery, seeing the city, and going to Kenya. Traveling to Kenya was really high on my list, so when I had a chance to choose my own in adventure in college Africa made my list.
I went to Urbana, a mission conference in 2003, and was determined to find an organization to travel with to Africa. I went to all the booths that had Africa on the list, and one in particular stuck out to me. After meeting with a representative, I knew I could finally make my dream come true. I originally had plans to go for three weeks in the summer of 2005, but that didn't work out and I ended up making a 3 month trip in the fall of 2006. What was to come was not at all what I had anticipated or could have imagined.
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