Hospitality and Prayer

Below you'll find a draft of the article I wrote for our upcoming newsletter. Enjoy!

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Each day of work at Samaritan Ministry is a prayer; a prayer that I can put my own life aside and positively affect each individual that enters my office, a prayer that I can handle the unexpected, a prayer that every day is a learning experience. With the help of deeply rooted volunteers and a mission of assisting individuals to build plans for success from their own motivation, Samaritan Ministry has provided an environment that positively supports my prayers.

My home state of Mississippi is fondly nicknamed the Hospitality State. These roots in hospitality got me through my first weeks at Samaritan Ministry when I really did not know what I, a privileged, white, female, college graduate, could offer participants. Ten months later, I still cannot magically dissolve the systematic barriers that the participant in front of me faces. I still do not know more than the individual in front of me about living on the streets or being unemployed for a long period of time. Still, I am called to serve as a companion to individuals facing these (and many other) barriers.

One of my favorite moments as a caseworker is when I realize I have built enough trust with a participant to challenge him or her. Most participants are motivated to accomplish their goals, but we all reach a point where we have to take a leap of faith or make a big change to reach our goals. In Jeremy’s case, he had been planning on getting up to date on his dental hygiene needs for nearly a year before I met him. For many individuals, it is a yearly inconvenience to go to the dentist, but we do it nonetheless. For Jeremy, visiting the dentist brought on a momentous fear of the unknown. He had never had dental work done before and, given his limited English, he had little idea of what he was getting himself into. But as Jeremy and I developed a friendship of accountability, he slowly took ownership of his fear and eventually accomplished his goal. I add it to my list of privileges that I am in a position to listen to participants’ stories and witness their bravery.

Just as Samaritan Ministry has welcomed me as an intern caseworker, I have welcomed guests like Jeremy into the Next Step program. Both Jeremy and I are guests in one another’s life journey as well as in the office I currently use, but the mission of hospitality that Samaritan Ministry shares will continue. I am thankful that my year as a Jesuit Volunteer at Samaritan Ministry has helped me identify my call to accompany others along their life journey. And even when I feel like I know little about how to help another individual, I will remember my lesson in hospitality at Samaritan Ministry. 

The Season of Love

Shortly after Valentine's Day, in honor of the season of love, I created a list of the things I love...and don't love...about DC. At that point when it seems winter is never going to end, one has a love-hate relationship with everything. This list sums up my less-than-deep feelings at the time. I figured it's still worth sharing because honesty along the way is the truest story. After all, this year is about the juxtaposition of the negative and the positive.

Things I love about living in DC:

1. Access to so many cool things (food of all types, music concerts, free museums, lots of other free things, good people watching)
2. Public transportation – I can get places without a car and don’t have to worry about parking, plus, when I’m walking I get exercise
3. Meeting cool people – whether they are stopping through for a convention, or just happen to be living here, I get to meet Davidson alumni and former Jesuit Volunteers; it’s also nice to live in a place where people are more likely to come visit you
4. Every time I’m on my way somewhere and I look up and see a monument I think “holy crap, I live here!” The thought of living in our nation’s capitol never gets old.
5. This truly is the center of the non-profit world. I’ve learned so much about how a non-profit runs.
6. It’s not specific to DC, but it is specific to my experience here: I have awesome roommates! We share with and learn from each other every day.
7. Anonymity is comforting when you trip on the sidewalk and land flat on your face (or have some other similarly embarrassing experience in public).

Things that aren’t as great in DC/that I miss about living in the deep south:

1. First of all, people like to argue that I still live in the South…they just don’t understand
2. Public transportation is expensive and often inconvenient – standing out in the elements waiting for the bus isn’t that fun, and then you climb onto public transportation and have to share tight spaces with way too many people – germs, obscenities…(yes, great people watching, but not always what you want to do on the way to work)
3. I can’t even count how many people I see in a day who don’t acknowledge my existence. I miss being in a place where you know everyone you pass and say, at the very least, “hello, how are you?” Needless to say, I know very little about most of the people I pass on my way to work each morning. And even with the ones that will say hello, it will never move into conversation about family, work or anything. It’s so strange to go to the grocery store and not run into at least one person you know. Sometimes it’s nice to be anonymous, but sometimes it’s just sad.
4. Warm weather! My mom called me the other day, shocked to report the low temperature would be 40 degrees down south. I reminded her that that had been the high in DC for the past two months. I’d rather sweat in the heat than sweat in the winter with 10,000 layers on and cold wind rushing up my coat. People laugh at me every time I wish for the spring and summer to come. They say I’ll regret it when it gets hot and we have no air conditioning. With this I am reminded that in the deep south we have air conditioning everywhere and don’t have to walk around outside in the summer time for long periods of time.      

On the Bus

Let me assure you, my lack of updates is not a lack of substance, but rather a lack of time. However, as my mother always told me, if I really want to do something I will make time for it. So here I sit.

One of the things I've been making time for is yoga. There are so many lovely studios here in the city, and I always feel better afterwards despite the fact that it's a 3 or 4 hour ordeal to get there and back (admittedly, sometimes I miss the luxuries of a car). But more and more I realize the blessing of movement. One of the hardest things I observe around the city on a regular basis is the limitation of individuals with physical disabilities. Whether their ability to walk easily was taken by age or illness, the sight deeply saddens me. Thankfully, bus drivers tend to be patient and kind as men and women tenderly climb and descend the bus steps. But still the thought of elderly Mr. Ingram wobbling into my office on his cane or the young Mr. Gomez shuffling in on his walker and meningitis-crippled legs...I have no words.

Well, I have many stories I could share, but to bring in some happier thoughts to this entry I thought I would share stories from my prime educational scene: the bus. (Don't get me wrong, the bus is not always happier, but i'll just share the positive ones right now.)

Morning ride 1:

This morning on the bus a small African American girl approximately 8 years old sat next to me on her way to school. She was decked out in her backpack covered in hearts and her matching pink coat and hat. She opened up her copy of the Express (the free daily paper with everything from politics to entertainment) to the first page. Not long after I glanced over her shoulder to see who was featured in the entertainment picture did she notice me. To respond to her questioning look at me, I asked her who was in the picture. She wasn't sure, but she folded the paper to the front page and said (read in adorable child voice), "but I'm pretty sure that's Barack Obama."

"You're right! And what does he do?" I asked.

"He's the President of the United States. He's a lot like Martin Luther King. They both take care of the city and get rid of bad laws. Used to, the blacks had to sit in the back of the bus and the whites sat in the front...And Martin Luther King just had a birthday..."

I nodded and affirmed her as she shared what she knew about the two historical figures. Soon she hopped up to exit the bus, and I sat there soaking in the beautiful,uninhibited nature of children. She had no trouble sharing her stories of injustice with me, the privileged white girl sitting next to her. It is in moments like these I feel there is hope for conversation, hope that I can be a part of justice despite my privilege.

Morning ride 2:

On the morning of my birthday (yes, this story is from back in the early winter), I squeezed onto the crowded bus. I wedged into a seat up front. A few stops later an older man climbed on the bus. He did not carry a cane or show other signs to difficulty moving, but as soon as he saw me he asked if he could have my seat. I have no problem giving up my seat, but I did fear he would not be able to fit into the seat where I was only able to sit on the edge for all the people. He thankfully was able to make room for himself as I stood bumping into others.

Slowly the bus began to empty out and I was able to take a seat next to the man. He turned to me and asked "what day is it again?"

I told him the date.

"Sorry, I'm pretty forgetful," he explained.

"Oh, no worries. I wouldn't remember except for it's my birthday." (selfish plug, I know)

"Oh! It's your birthday? Well, I have to give you something!"

"No, no," I insisted.

"No really. Take this dollar," he insisted.

I could tell from his forcefulness that it was best to take the dollar and honor his gift.

"Well, alright. I'll buy something in honor of you."

"No," he said, "in honor of God."

He went on to tell me about how he had a stroke 10 years ago. Soon afterwards his wife took away all his money and his newborn son. He hasn't seen them sense. Now he spends every day searching for a job or visiting his counselor. (Now you know I felt REALLY bad taking his dollar...) It's amazing how people are willing to give out of even their smallest earnings.

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Pax,

Kelly