That last post was kind of heavy.... I have some great stories to balance it but I have to leave for our JVC social justice retreat in ten minutes (because we don't spend enough time focusing on social justice). So I will give you a taste of what is to come:
--The suspicious Nepali family.......
--The case of the missing I-94 and the stripping Nepali man......(might be same family)
--School registration with the Afghanis
--The Iranian man who is REALLY lucky that he was resettled in Portland
Sorry that there is no time for the full tales now--but stay-tuned!!
Friday, February 10, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
Hoping for Results....
I often try to just focus on the funny, the positive, or the real learning-moments of my work for this blog. But to be honest, sometimes it is really overwhelming and tough. I will pour my heart and soul into trying to help a family and will get nowhere, things will fall through and forces beyond my control will foil plans. This week has been particularly tough. In the interest of honesty about my experience I would like to share these things with you. I also want to share a quote I have taped to my desk.
--I have spent dozens of hours trying to get this kid into basketball with the hope that participating in sports will help boost his performance in school (which has been dismal due to attitude problems). I got him in, convinced someone to pay for it, and gave him instructions to take the bus to practice. Then, inexplicably, his brothers and mother all signed up for an English class exactly when his practice would be so there is no available bus pass for him to use to get to practice. That same day I also got and email from a teacher saying that he is not paying attention in class and has been repeatedly late.
--I am having a serious disagreement with one of my coworkers about how to best approach a case. My coworker thinks one member of the family is being selfish and should be pressured to translate for/help the other; I think that this is not our place and that we need to back off. Meanwhile this family member burst into tears in front of me in our office, no one in the family is moving even close to self-sufficiency and their benefits end in two months.
--We just got informed that the state of Oregon is experiencing a budget shortfall and so is looking to cut DHS spending by 3.5%. To accomplish that, they want to cut the state refugee budget by 10%. But they counted all of the state refugee budget in that math (including, I think, federal money) even though the cuts would only come from the monthly benefits (TANF) pot. Much complicated math later (courtesy of yours truly) that means that refugee benefits could be cut by 48% (giving families only 4 months instead of 8 months to learn english and get a job--when only 17% of families are managing to do that on the current schedule). The alternative proposal is to cut overall DHS spending by 10% which, as proposed would equal a 97% cut in monthly benefits (i.e., 1 week of support to learn english and get a job). If this happened we would pretty much just have to end the current resettlement program.....
So, yeah, it has been rough. As promised, here is the quote:
(courtesy of Thomas Merton's "Letter to a young activist")
"Do not depend on the hope of results. When you are doing the sort of work you have taken on, essentially an apostolic work, you may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the truth of the work itself. And there, too, a great deal has to be gone through, as gradually as you struggle less and less for an idea, and more and more for specific people. The range tends to narrow down, but it gets much more real. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationships that saves everything. "
--I have spent dozens of hours trying to get this kid into basketball with the hope that participating in sports will help boost his performance in school (which has been dismal due to attitude problems). I got him in, convinced someone to pay for it, and gave him instructions to take the bus to practice. Then, inexplicably, his brothers and mother all signed up for an English class exactly when his practice would be so there is no available bus pass for him to use to get to practice. That same day I also got and email from a teacher saying that he is not paying attention in class and has been repeatedly late.
--I am having a serious disagreement with one of my coworkers about how to best approach a case. My coworker thinks one member of the family is being selfish and should be pressured to translate for/help the other; I think that this is not our place and that we need to back off. Meanwhile this family member burst into tears in front of me in our office, no one in the family is moving even close to self-sufficiency and their benefits end in two months.
--We just got informed that the state of Oregon is experiencing a budget shortfall and so is looking to cut DHS spending by 3.5%. To accomplish that, they want to cut the state refugee budget by 10%. But they counted all of the state refugee budget in that math (including, I think, federal money) even though the cuts would only come from the monthly benefits (TANF) pot. Much complicated math later (courtesy of yours truly) that means that refugee benefits could be cut by 48% (giving families only 4 months instead of 8 months to learn english and get a job--when only 17% of families are managing to do that on the current schedule). The alternative proposal is to cut overall DHS spending by 10% which, as proposed would equal a 97% cut in monthly benefits (i.e., 1 week of support to learn english and get a job). If this happened we would pretty much just have to end the current resettlement program.....
So, yeah, it has been rough. As promised, here is the quote:
(courtesy of Thomas Merton's "Letter to a young activist")
"Do not depend on the hope of results. When you are doing the sort of work you have taken on, essentially an apostolic work, you may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the truth of the work itself. And there, too, a great deal has to be gone through, as gradually as you struggle less and less for an idea, and more and more for specific people. The range tends to narrow down, but it gets much more real. In the end, it is the reality of personal relationships that saves everything. "
Monday, January 23, 2012
The good, the bad, and the ugly in the last 7 days
The good: I met two Iranian brothers today who had to get an ID from the DMV. It took a while and there were all sorts of classic paperwork snafus-- "you need to fill out the yellow form, not the grey one," "The department of homeland security doesn't have his birthday in the system," "why does his last name have two parts to it?" etc.--but while we were waiting one of the brothers, through much miming, was able to tell me about how he was a photo-journalist and a political cartoonist in Iran (which is why he is now a refugee--not a safe or prosperous profession in those parts). He even showed me some of his political artwork including a pencil drawing of a Persian woman with haunting eyes mutely pleading for help from behind an Iran-shaped crack in a wall. I never thought I would say this about a trip to the DMV, but I had a really great time.
The bad: Speaking of Iranians, this one Iranian girl keeps calling me with these really surreal questions. She called me once last week because she missed a meeting with her job coach and was worried that he would be mad at her and wanted to know if everything would be okay (if only she knew how much of our lives was filled with missed meetings). She then called me last week and said "my job coach found a position for me at 7-eleven but I heard that if I work there I will get shot because people rob 7-eleven stores." I like to think of it as a spiritual exercise when I have to exert every iota of my will to keep a straight face and consider her question seriously. I think it will be excellent practice for being a primary care doc in the future ("yes, it is possible that you have a flesh-eating bacteria but statistically-speaking I am going to guess that it is just a splinter"). The bad part is that she has gotten my cell phone number and has started texting me these ridiculous questions on the weekend--I am going to have a serious talk with her about boundaries.
The ugly: I was chatting with a friend-of a friend-of a friend over the weekend about his new job as a corporate "summit" consultant. He plans conferences for CFOs of fortune-1000 companies. The people with whom he communicates are such big-whigs that he is not allowed to send an email to anyone yet without running it by two coworkers for content and grammar first. I was struck by this and suddenly remembered a form I recently filled out--the end of which consisted of a single question "Do you recomend that this child is safe in his or her home?" and I had to circle "yes" or "no." No one checked over my work on that form. The priorities in this world terrify me--I have not yet gotten over that deeply disturbing comparison.
The ending-on-a-happy-note part: The sudanese mom I have been working with has made it into income-based housing! She now pays $14/mo in rent and will be able to afford toilet paper for her kids again! She ahd to move with very little notice, however, so there was no time to contact the schools in advance. Instead, her kids just walked up to each of their teachers and said "I won't be here tomorrow" and then left. (I had to field a lot of confused phone calls after that)
The bad: Speaking of Iranians, this one Iranian girl keeps calling me with these really surreal questions. She called me once last week because she missed a meeting with her job coach and was worried that he would be mad at her and wanted to know if everything would be okay (if only she knew how much of our lives was filled with missed meetings). She then called me last week and said "my job coach found a position for me at 7-eleven but I heard that if I work there I will get shot because people rob 7-eleven stores." I like to think of it as a spiritual exercise when I have to exert every iota of my will to keep a straight face and consider her question seriously. I think it will be excellent practice for being a primary care doc in the future ("yes, it is possible that you have a flesh-eating bacteria but statistically-speaking I am going to guess that it is just a splinter"). The bad part is that she has gotten my cell phone number and has started texting me these ridiculous questions on the weekend--I am going to have a serious talk with her about boundaries.
The ugly: I was chatting with a friend-of a friend-of a friend over the weekend about his new job as a corporate "summit" consultant. He plans conferences for CFOs of fortune-1000 companies. The people with whom he communicates are such big-whigs that he is not allowed to send an email to anyone yet without running it by two coworkers for content and grammar first. I was struck by this and suddenly remembered a form I recently filled out--the end of which consisted of a single question "Do you recomend that this child is safe in his or her home?" and I had to circle "yes" or "no." No one checked over my work on that form. The priorities in this world terrify me--I have not yet gotten over that deeply disturbing comparison.
The ending-on-a-happy-note part: The sudanese mom I have been working with has made it into income-based housing! She now pays $14/mo in rent and will be able to afford toilet paper for her kids again! She ahd to move with very little notice, however, so there was no time to contact the schools in advance. Instead, her kids just walked up to each of their teachers and said "I won't be here tomorrow" and then left. (I had to field a lot of confused phone calls after that)
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Cross-cultural education moments
Three learning moments with one somali family:
1) I helped the aunt in the family (who is only 2 yrs older than I am) to open a bank account so that she could pay the rent by check. We went to the same bank where the JVs go since I knew they were free ("the world's greatest bank"--not fact, just a slogan). It didn't seem like it would be hard--she had the right ID, she spoke english, and she had money to put into the account--but we ended up staying 30 minutes past closing for one thing: the security questions for online banking. I have created security questions for literally dozens of online accounts and I never realized how culturally-specific they are. There was a list of 20 questions and she just had to answer 5 of them but we couldn't do it. She grew up in a refugee camp where she had few if any posessions, did not go to high school, and is from a culture with a different naming convention. With that in mind, imagine trying to answer any of these questions: "highschool mascot name?" "most inspiring highschool teacher's name?" "favorite author?" favorite painter?" "favorite musician?" "first instrument you played?" "mother's maiden name? (somali's don't change their names when they marry)" "name of the street you grew up on? (no streets in Kakuma)" "favorite sport's team?" "City where your closest sibling lives? (they all died in the war)." My favorite moment was when the manager kept asking her the name of any pet she had growing up. It took a lot of effort for me not to look at him and say "look, dumbass, no one keeps pets in a camp where children are chronically malnourished." In the end I invented answers for her, wrote them down and told her not to lose the paper. (much like how the US government gives the Somali's birthdays)
2) As a thank you for helping her with the bank account, this woman and her sister taught me how to make sambusas (somalian samosas). I learned how to cook them the somali way (with bare hands on a hot plate--the trick is to keep your hands moving quickly so they don't burn as you make the wrappers--the sister teased me about having soft hands--it's called a functioning nervous system!). see here for description: http://www.mysomalifood.com/appetizers/somali-sambusa/ I learned some real gems of somali wisdom while cooking with them--e.g. if you cry a lot while cutting onions it means that you will be a jealous wife. Also, when somalis make "chips" (aka fries--thank you british imperialism) one of the necessary ingredients is the color yellow. Not even kidding--they added food dye to the potatoes before frying them. I looked at the additive, determined that it was just dye with no flavor, and when I asked why they added it they just said "because they should be yellow." I have no clue what historical/marketing quirk is behind that one but I would love to know. Unfortunately the cooking lesson took 3 hours longer than I anticipated/had checked out the car for (originally I was just going to social security with her husband) so I am now on the permanent shit-list of the secretary at my office. Worth it though, those things are delicious.
3) after the cooking lesson, while we were eating the delicious sambusas, the three of us chatted about men and the appropriate way one should pursue a husband (pretty predictable: get parental approval, make sure he doesn't do drugs, make sure he is respectful to his mother, don't sleep with him before marriage or "he will think you are cheap" is what they advised). But as the sister was advising me on this she started out by saying "when you are seducing a man....." I stopped, asked her to repeat herself, and confirmed that she indeed said "seducing a man." As she is a devout somali woman who wears a hijab and a full abiyat (traditional ankle and wrist-covering dress) I assumed that wasn't what she meant. I explained what that meant/the connotations of that word (really awkwardly, I waved vaguely into space as I said "it means you plan to do something..um...maybe before marriage" like I was a 1960s dad talking to a teenager). When it clicked what I meant she turned red, gasped, and said "oh no! I would never do that!" and after much discussion we decided that the word she was looking for was "courting."
This post has gone on much too long, and it is all about the somali. So, I will just leave you with one or two more gems I have learned about the Nepali/bhutanese:
1) Nepali families love to do things together. So when I went to pick up a family of four to get clothes I ended up taking 11 people to a store where they ultimately sat in a circle on the floor and loudly sorted through a mound of clothes before choosing a wardrobe by committee.
2) Nepali families like to feed guests--which is great--but they also often prefer the guest to eat first....alone....while they all stand in a semi-circle around you and watch--I have never been so uncomfortable with such wonderful food.
1) I helped the aunt in the family (who is only 2 yrs older than I am) to open a bank account so that she could pay the rent by check. We went to the same bank where the JVs go since I knew they were free ("the world's greatest bank"--not fact, just a slogan). It didn't seem like it would be hard--she had the right ID, she spoke english, and she had money to put into the account--but we ended up staying 30 minutes past closing for one thing: the security questions for online banking. I have created security questions for literally dozens of online accounts and I never realized how culturally-specific they are. There was a list of 20 questions and she just had to answer 5 of them but we couldn't do it. She grew up in a refugee camp where she had few if any posessions, did not go to high school, and is from a culture with a different naming convention. With that in mind, imagine trying to answer any of these questions: "highschool mascot name?" "most inspiring highschool teacher's name?" "favorite author?" favorite painter?" "favorite musician?" "first instrument you played?" "mother's maiden name? (somali's don't change their names when they marry)" "name of the street you grew up on? (no streets in Kakuma)" "favorite sport's team?" "City where your closest sibling lives? (they all died in the war)." My favorite moment was when the manager kept asking her the name of any pet she had growing up. It took a lot of effort for me not to look at him and say "look, dumbass, no one keeps pets in a camp where children are chronically malnourished." In the end I invented answers for her, wrote them down and told her not to lose the paper. (much like how the US government gives the Somali's birthdays)
2) As a thank you for helping her with the bank account, this woman and her sister taught me how to make sambusas (somalian samosas). I learned how to cook them the somali way (with bare hands on a hot plate--the trick is to keep your hands moving quickly so they don't burn as you make the wrappers--the sister teased me about having soft hands--it's called a functioning nervous system!). see here for description: http://www.mysomalifood.com/appetizers/somali-sambusa/ I learned some real gems of somali wisdom while cooking with them--e.g. if you cry a lot while cutting onions it means that you will be a jealous wife. Also, when somalis make "chips" (aka fries--thank you british imperialism) one of the necessary ingredients is the color yellow. Not even kidding--they added food dye to the potatoes before frying them. I looked at the additive, determined that it was just dye with no flavor, and when I asked why they added it they just said "because they should be yellow." I have no clue what historical/marketing quirk is behind that one but I would love to know. Unfortunately the cooking lesson took 3 hours longer than I anticipated/had checked out the car for (originally I was just going to social security with her husband) so I am now on the permanent shit-list of the secretary at my office. Worth it though, those things are delicious.
3) after the cooking lesson, while we were eating the delicious sambusas, the three of us chatted about men and the appropriate way one should pursue a husband (pretty predictable: get parental approval, make sure he doesn't do drugs, make sure he is respectful to his mother, don't sleep with him before marriage or "he will think you are cheap" is what they advised). But as the sister was advising me on this she started out by saying "when you are seducing a man....." I stopped, asked her to repeat herself, and confirmed that she indeed said "seducing a man." As she is a devout somali woman who wears a hijab and a full abiyat (traditional ankle and wrist-covering dress) I assumed that wasn't what she meant. I explained what that meant/the connotations of that word (really awkwardly, I waved vaguely into space as I said "it means you plan to do something..um...maybe before marriage" like I was a 1960s dad talking to a teenager). When it clicked what I meant she turned red, gasped, and said "oh no! I would never do that!" and after much discussion we decided that the word she was looking for was "courting."
This post has gone on much too long, and it is all about the somali. So, I will just leave you with one or two more gems I have learned about the Nepali/bhutanese:
1) Nepali families love to do things together. So when I went to pick up a family of four to get clothes I ended up taking 11 people to a store where they ultimately sat in a circle on the floor and loudly sorted through a mound of clothes before choosing a wardrobe by committee.
2) Nepali families like to feed guests--which is great--but they also often prefer the guest to eat first....alone....while they all stand in a semi-circle around you and watch--I have never been so uncomfortable with such wonderful food.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
New Year!......same weird stories
Sorry about the long interval between posts- it turns out that even for JVs december is really busy. Our house got a christmas tree and celebrated the season of "greshlahem" together one night. We each made gifts for everyone else on a budget of $5 or less TOTAL! It was hard but the gifts were really meaningful. They included pretty poems or quotes written in calligraphy on nice paper, hand-made notebooks, earrings, and "memory jars" which we will fill up through the rest of the year. Sniffle...it was magical.
January 2nd I was back to work and it looks like 2012 is shaping up to be similar to 2011 in that there are lots of quirky refugees and little time to speak of them. My most significant accomplishment this week was learning to drive a 12 passenger van! In rush-hour! I had to pick up two big burmese families to take them to get clothes (at a Deseret Industries store which agreed to partner with us to provide needed clothing for families--2 points to the mormons!). There were 11 people I was supposed to pick up so I had to take the van. I was terrified but I made it to their apartment--where only 3 people got into the car. I could have taken the honda! We went to DI and I told them/mimed that they each had $100 dollars for clothing for their families. Mom from one family was right on target and got shoes, jackets, socks, etc. for her kids but Dad and son from the other family struggled a bit more. In the end they bought some good clothes but also a spiderman costume and rollrblades (clothing necessity? I said yes). I think mom was going to be upset when they got home, this is why maybe Dad shouldn't do the shopping.... The clothing voucher system is working great though and I am stoked to take more families next week, even if it does mean using the passenger van.
January 2nd I was back to work and it looks like 2012 is shaping up to be similar to 2011 in that there are lots of quirky refugees and little time to speak of them. My most significant accomplishment this week was learning to drive a 12 passenger van! In rush-hour! I had to pick up two big burmese families to take them to get clothes (at a Deseret Industries store which agreed to partner with us to provide needed clothing for families--2 points to the mormons!). There were 11 people I was supposed to pick up so I had to take the van. I was terrified but I made it to their apartment--where only 3 people got into the car. I could have taken the honda! We went to DI and I told them/mimed that they each had $100 dollars for clothing for their families. Mom from one family was right on target and got shoes, jackets, socks, etc. for her kids but Dad and son from the other family struggled a bit more. In the end they bought some good clothes but also a spiderman costume and rollrblades (clothing necessity? I said yes). I think mom was going to be upset when they got home, this is why maybe Dad shouldn't do the shopping.... The clothing voucher system is working great though and I am stoked to take more families next week, even if it does mean using the passenger van.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Peace in Advent
I’ve decided that the focus for this week of advent is peace. I was meditating on our community’s advent theme on the nature of advent—that it is a season of looking forward but also of being present. It was/is really hard for me to think of peace as anything other than something to look forward to because I cannot really find it in the world right now. Every day I work with refugees whose lives have been irrevocably changed by war. They sit in refugee camps and wait for decades for a peace that hasn’t come. I also keep thinking about the war in Afghanistan. I was 12 years old when we first sent troops into that nation and ten years later we are still at war. Several of my friends and family members are leaving or have left to join that fighting and I have this deep fear that it will never end. So then, peace is definitely something we look forward. We wish for and pray for the coming of Christ so that there will be peace. We don’t have a lot of control over peace in the world right now, at least I don’t. I get frustrated and overwhelmed waiting for peace. Meanwhile, I am picking up the pieces of war every day at my work. Really, we all are—there is a lack of peace at home too. We all deal with victims of violence in some way.
So where is the preparation—what do we do presently? How do we actively pursue peace when our efforts to end war seem so ineffective? I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I am repeatedly drawn to a specific part of mass--which we also do in protestant churches—when we turn to one another and say “God’s Peace” or “Peace be with you.” We aren’t saying “peace be between us” as I normally think of peace, but “peace be with you.” We are praying that our neighbor finds peace within their own heart. I think this is the key to what we are pursuing this advent to prepare for Christ. We have to try to make peace with ourselves. Personally, I know that there is a war going on in my mind—my head tells me , “you aren’t good enough, that screw-up doesn’t deserve forgiveness, you didn’t help that person enough.” I’m not very good at forgiving myself—but I need to in order to make peace.
And so, I challenge you this advent season to pursue peace within yourself. Let’s pursue peace in our hearts as passionately as we pursue peace for our clients and for the world. Ask yourself in the quiet of advent “how am I waging war in my soul, and how can I bring peace.”
“God, grant us peace. Peace for the world, peace for our clients, and peace for us. Guide us so that we can find peace in preparation for your coming. And help us not to lose hope that you are coming—that peace is coming."
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
An Advent Reflection
This Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent (at least that is what I understood, feel free to scathingly correct me if I am wrong). I have been attending the Lutheran Church near my house and this week I watched them light the first candle. Actually, that is a lie, I came in late and the candle was already lit--but I did hear the sermon about the four values/ideals of advent--Peace, Love, Hope and Joy. After the service I asked the pastor what order those values went in, or which candle was lit that first day because I had some idea of doing an advent ceremony with my community. The pastor told me that there were so many explanations for which candle meant what and what order they should be lit in that the church didn't even try to assign a value to a candle--he encouraged me to just pick an order that made sense to me.
I gave it some thought while I made a traditional advent wreath (that is, made from styrofoam with branches I scrounged from our bushes and some candles from the discount rack at Craft Warehouse). As soon as I finished the wreath I felt particularly inspired to share my thoughts with my community. I wrote a short reflection and read it before lighting the first candle. Here is what I wrote:
"After the pastor today advised me to choose my own order for the four values of advent--Peace, Love, Joy and Hope--I meditated for a while on what should come first. Hope jumped out at me as the place to start. I think that hope is one of the most critical, if not the most critical idea for us to embrace in our line of work. It is really easy for us to be consumed by despair in the social services. I now that every one of us sees evidence day in and day out that things are really messed up, that people are hurting, that things could easily get worse and that they often do, that there isn't always a place to turn and it is not magically going to get better. I feel this despair weighing down my steps and it makes every interaction harder and makes my work feel pointless. I think that everyone feels this way. The only answer to this despair is hope. Hope is a fundamentally revolutionary act. It is a way to defy the world's seemingly constant oppression and say, "no, you are wrong, things can and will get better." Hope doesn't require that we see the way, just that we believe there is a way. It is not something that comes easy, it isn't logical, it isn't even very comforting at first--it is, rather, a deliberate choice or practice that is developed in time. You have to choose hope--to choose to really, deeply believe that despite all the evidence to the contrary, things will improve for these people we are serving. With that said, I think that hope has to come first in the advent season. Because in order to change the world, as Christ set out to do, we first have to conquer despair. And so we turn to hope--Hope for Christ in the advent season and for all that he represents: peace, love, and joy. These values represent a revolutionary change that will transform the world we work in--this despair and pain will be swept away and replaced with joy and peace. The first step is hope--truly believing that it will happen. I want to offer this prayer for everyone, 'God, give us hope; teach us how to hope. Help everyone of us to overcome the powerful despair that dogs our steps and instead help us to embrace a revolutionary hope that this world is going to change. Amen.' And so, I light this candle for hope."
I gave it some thought while I made a traditional advent wreath (that is, made from styrofoam with branches I scrounged from our bushes and some candles from the discount rack at Craft Warehouse). As soon as I finished the wreath I felt particularly inspired to share my thoughts with my community. I wrote a short reflection and read it before lighting the first candle. Here is what I wrote:
"After the pastor today advised me to choose my own order for the four values of advent--Peace, Love, Joy and Hope--I meditated for a while on what should come first. Hope jumped out at me as the place to start. I think that hope is one of the most critical, if not the most critical idea for us to embrace in our line of work. It is really easy for us to be consumed by despair in the social services. I now that every one of us sees evidence day in and day out that things are really messed up, that people are hurting, that things could easily get worse and that they often do, that there isn't always a place to turn and it is not magically going to get better. I feel this despair weighing down my steps and it makes every interaction harder and makes my work feel pointless. I think that everyone feels this way. The only answer to this despair is hope. Hope is a fundamentally revolutionary act. It is a way to defy the world's seemingly constant oppression and say, "no, you are wrong, things can and will get better." Hope doesn't require that we see the way, just that we believe there is a way. It is not something that comes easy, it isn't logical, it isn't even very comforting at first--it is, rather, a deliberate choice or practice that is developed in time. You have to choose hope--to choose to really, deeply believe that despite all the evidence to the contrary, things will improve for these people we are serving. With that said, I think that hope has to come first in the advent season. Because in order to change the world, as Christ set out to do, we first have to conquer despair. And so we turn to hope--Hope for Christ in the advent season and for all that he represents: peace, love, and joy. These values represent a revolutionary change that will transform the world we work in--this despair and pain will be swept away and replaced with joy and peace. The first step is hope--truly believing that it will happen. I want to offer this prayer for everyone, 'God, give us hope; teach us how to hope. Help everyone of us to overcome the powerful despair that dogs our steps and instead help us to embrace a revolutionary hope that this world is going to change. Amen.' And so, I light this candle for hope."
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
A "great story"
(I am literally going to submit this to AmeriCorps as one of my two mandatory "great stories" from service this year)
The other day I was asked to take a Nepali couple for their initial medical screening. Though I had to get out of bed at an ungodly hour to drive all the way across town during a foggy rush hour, I was happy to do it. When I returned to pick the couple up after their appointment, they were waiting to hear from the nurse about something. It took me a while to figure out what they were waiting for but I eventually heard "pregnancy appointment" (by which I assumed they meant pre-natal care--not arranging for one). I turned to the wife to congratulate her and asked her how far along she was, to which the husband replied "8 months." I did a serious double-take and realized that yes, this woman was in fact very pregnant and I had not noticed (in my defense, she was covering it up with a large scarf--I think it is a modesty thing). Eventually the nurse came out and explained to me that I needed to somehow schedule this woman for some prenatal care at clinic that would take medicaid since she was 8 months along and had not yet seen a doctor. I happily agreed with no clue as to how difficult that would be. It turns out that no ob-gyn clinic in Portland will see a woman for the first time during her 8th month of pregnancy unless she has well-documented prenatal care because they don't want to be liable for something going wrong. I called clinic after clinic, incredulously, and listened to them explain that yes, though this woman did need to see a doctor right away they did not want to be the ones to do it. I was actually told that her only option was to go to the emergency room! They wanted a medicaid patient to go to the ER for routine prenatal care! I was outraged/appalled/any other furious emotion that would capture the essence of all that is wrong with our medical system. By my 7th or 8th phone call I started to lose my cool--I hadn't eaten in hours and was running on little sleep. I am embarrassed to say that I got quite snippy with a receptionist at a clinic and hung up on her after she used the words "not my problem."
In the end I did get her an appointment. I asked another Catholic Charities agency (Pregnancy & Adoption Support) for help and they gave me the number of a social worker at a Midwife clinic who was able to hook me up with some basic care and a nepali interpreter. (woot!) I took the couple to an ultrasound appointment yesterday--during which the husband was grinning nonstop--and the couple told me that they were having a baby girl around the first of January. The husband also told me, however, that he was not surprised by the news because "a woman in Nepal with magical powers told me it would be a girl." Well, clearly she was right. Let's hope that it is a healthy girl too. Pregnancy support is also hooking up the family with a new baby welcome kit (bottles, clothes, diapers and blankets) so the first member of this family to be born in their new country will arrive in style.
The other day I was asked to take a Nepali couple for their initial medical screening. Though I had to get out of bed at an ungodly hour to drive all the way across town during a foggy rush hour, I was happy to do it. When I returned to pick the couple up after their appointment, they were waiting to hear from the nurse about something. It took me a while to figure out what they were waiting for but I eventually heard "pregnancy appointment" (by which I assumed they meant pre-natal care--not arranging for one). I turned to the wife to congratulate her and asked her how far along she was, to which the husband replied "8 months." I did a serious double-take and realized that yes, this woman was in fact very pregnant and I had not noticed (in my defense, she was covering it up with a large scarf--I think it is a modesty thing). Eventually the nurse came out and explained to me that I needed to somehow schedule this woman for some prenatal care at clinic that would take medicaid since she was 8 months along and had not yet seen a doctor. I happily agreed with no clue as to how difficult that would be. It turns out that no ob-gyn clinic in Portland will see a woman for the first time during her 8th month of pregnancy unless she has well-documented prenatal care because they don't want to be liable for something going wrong. I called clinic after clinic, incredulously, and listened to them explain that yes, though this woman did need to see a doctor right away they did not want to be the ones to do it. I was actually told that her only option was to go to the emergency room! They wanted a medicaid patient to go to the ER for routine prenatal care! I was outraged/appalled/any other furious emotion that would capture the essence of all that is wrong with our medical system. By my 7th or 8th phone call I started to lose my cool--I hadn't eaten in hours and was running on little sleep. I am embarrassed to say that I got quite snippy with a receptionist at a clinic and hung up on her after she used the words "not my problem."
In the end I did get her an appointment. I asked another Catholic Charities agency (Pregnancy & Adoption Support) for help and they gave me the number of a social worker at a Midwife clinic who was able to hook me up with some basic care and a nepali interpreter. (woot!) I took the couple to an ultrasound appointment yesterday--during which the husband was grinning nonstop--and the couple told me that they were having a baby girl around the first of January. The husband also told me, however, that he was not surprised by the news because "a woman in Nepal with magical powers told me it would be a girl." Well, clearly she was right. Let's hope that it is a healthy girl too. Pregnancy support is also hooking up the family with a new baby welcome kit (bottles, clothes, diapers and blankets) so the first member of this family to be born in their new country will arrive in style.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Photo Update
I have been remiss in my visual updates. Here are a few pictures of what we did during the weekends:
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| Almost the whole house at the Gum wall (near Pike place market in Seattle) |
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| The Rose Test Garden in NW Portland (Late August) with some of the gals from my house. |
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| Prepping our Halloween Costumes |
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| Our official Halloween costumes--Space Jam (these are our "planet faces." If you cannot tell, I am earth) |
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| Joe and I found a book called "Balancing sport and acrobatics" on the giveaway shelf at the library. We decided to learn some of the moves--this is our best one so far (And I DID NOT fall! We can hold that pose for ~15 seconds! And I can flip out of it) |
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
A quick catch-up on the last few weeks
Hey y'all, I apologize for my uncharacteristic silence. Things have been busy in the refugee world (and in the medical school application world). Allow me to give you a shortened list of highlights (I don't have time for the long one since I must catch a bus)
I was accepted to Emory!!! I don't know if that is where I will end up going but it is nice to know that someone will take me. By this time next year I will be in medical school (probably drowning my sorrows at a dive bar after a horrendous anatomy exam). I was also invited to interview at a few more schools (Tulane, Duke and the U of U). I will keep you all posted as the decision-making progresses
I was able to compile a good list of the shocking, the predictable, and the shockingly predictable:
The predictable: One of the somali guys has decided that he wants an American girlfriend. As I am the only girl he has met in the United States he decided to ask me. (His english isn't very good so I just pretended that I didn't understand and started pointing out bus routes on the way back from the clinic). When I dropped him off at his apartment he thanked me by kissing my arm (I think he was aiming for my hand but I was surprised and moved--plus he was nervous). His english is not good enough for me to explain the concept of boundaries to him (though if he gets too forward I suppose a slap is a pretty international signal). So I have mostly been avoiding the problem by avoiding him. It has mostly worked. Although the other day I was supposed to pick up this guy and his three roommates. When I arrived the three roommates were gone and he invited me to wait with him until they returned.....I declined and instead went to the library to kill time.
The shocking: We received a huge clothing donation from a children's clothing store that went out of business. We don't have anywhere to store clothing so I took the 16 trash bags of clothes to another charity. Unfortunately, one of the other caseworkers found out the next day and was extremely upset because she needed clothes for one of her client's kids. So, I had to go back to the charity and take advantage of a new volunteer who was naive enough to leave me and another intern in the storage room to "pick out a few outfits." We frantically started stuffing clothes into trash bags and managed to bring back two bags of kids' clothing with no one the wiser. (what did you do today sarah? 'oh, nothing, just stole back my donations from a charity').
The shockingly predictable: The US refugee resettlement program is really messed up. It is almost perfectly designed to fail. Also, since it is under the umbrella of TANF (temporary assistance to needy families) it is a part of the welfare block of "discretionary spending" that congress is talking about slashing. The benefits that families get only last for 8 months---in 8 months a refugee family is supposed to be economically independent (with a full-time job in this economy), speaking english, and adjusted to life in the US! It used to be 3 years of support but "budgetary concerns" during the early 2000s cut it down to less than a year. So yeah, that sucks.
On a lighter note, I just came back from the social security office where I took an adorable Burmese couple. I was speaking to the husband (who knows english) and asked him what he wanted to do in the US. He replied that he wanted to get a job where he could learn how to make coffee drinks--particularly how to make cool pictures in cappuccino foam. He fled his village in Myanmar and survived three years in a refugee camp in malaysia and now he has come to the United States and wants to be a barrista--if that isn't the american dream then I don't know what is!
I was accepted to Emory!!! I don't know if that is where I will end up going but it is nice to know that someone will take me. By this time next year I will be in medical school (probably drowning my sorrows at a dive bar after a horrendous anatomy exam). I was also invited to interview at a few more schools (Tulane, Duke and the U of U). I will keep you all posted as the decision-making progresses
I was able to compile a good list of the shocking, the predictable, and the shockingly predictable:
The predictable: One of the somali guys has decided that he wants an American girlfriend. As I am the only girl he has met in the United States he decided to ask me. (His english isn't very good so I just pretended that I didn't understand and started pointing out bus routes on the way back from the clinic). When I dropped him off at his apartment he thanked me by kissing my arm (I think he was aiming for my hand but I was surprised and moved--plus he was nervous). His english is not good enough for me to explain the concept of boundaries to him (though if he gets too forward I suppose a slap is a pretty international signal). So I have mostly been avoiding the problem by avoiding him. It has mostly worked. Although the other day I was supposed to pick up this guy and his three roommates. When I arrived the three roommates were gone and he invited me to wait with him until they returned.....I declined and instead went to the library to kill time.
The shocking: We received a huge clothing donation from a children's clothing store that went out of business. We don't have anywhere to store clothing so I took the 16 trash bags of clothes to another charity. Unfortunately, one of the other caseworkers found out the next day and was extremely upset because she needed clothes for one of her client's kids. So, I had to go back to the charity and take advantage of a new volunteer who was naive enough to leave me and another intern in the storage room to "pick out a few outfits." We frantically started stuffing clothes into trash bags and managed to bring back two bags of kids' clothing with no one the wiser. (what did you do today sarah? 'oh, nothing, just stole back my donations from a charity').
The shockingly predictable: The US refugee resettlement program is really messed up. It is almost perfectly designed to fail. Also, since it is under the umbrella of TANF (temporary assistance to needy families) it is a part of the welfare block of "discretionary spending" that congress is talking about slashing. The benefits that families get only last for 8 months---in 8 months a refugee family is supposed to be economically independent (with a full-time job in this economy), speaking english, and adjusted to life in the US! It used to be 3 years of support but "budgetary concerns" during the early 2000s cut it down to less than a year. So yeah, that sucks.
On a lighter note, I just came back from the social security office where I took an adorable Burmese couple. I was speaking to the husband (who knows english) and asked him what he wanted to do in the US. He replied that he wanted to get a job where he could learn how to make coffee drinks--particularly how to make cool pictures in cappuccino foam. He fled his village in Myanmar and survived three years in a refugee camp in malaysia and now he has come to the United States and wants to be a barrista--if that isn't the american dream then I don't know what is!
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