God Alone Suffices - Teresa of Avila

"Let nothing disturb thee, 

Let nothing frighten you,

All things will pass.

God, alone, suffices."

- St. Teresa of Avila

    Isn't she beautiful? This is one of my most favorite pictures of Teresa, as she looks so young. I'd like to say that in this rendition, she's maybe in her early twenties. Like me. If someone ever asked me who is your favorite saint, hands down, I would answer: Teresa of Avila. She's a strong woman of God, unafraid to reform for His glory and she was a Carmelite (don't tell the other sisters, but they are my favorite!). 

     When I was younger, a priest always used to give his homilies on the lives of the saints. Forget about what the Gospel or the readings were, no matter what day it was, there was a story of a saint. Fascinated by this, I asked him why he only ever gave homilies on the saints. He answered, "When I was little, my father told me to study the saints. They became my friends. So, when I give homilies about them, it's like talking about my closest friends." I fell in love with that and soon after, I began to find my friends. Katherine Drexel was one of the first. Shortly after her, came Therese. But my best friend, I found in Teresa of Avila. I literally fell in love with these strong women of faith. They were the undercover feminists of their time, and I admire them for it! But Teresa, she's something else. She was the most outspoken woman of the church, I found. She was a mystic but also, she was a leader, fearless in her faith. She even said to God, "It's no wonder you have so few friends, if this is how you treat them." She considered Jesus her closest friend and lover, and I learned how to be a friend of Jesus through her. She was real with God, she was bold with God, and He loved her for it. She had spunk. Spunk that I wanted. And so, she easily became my friend; my best Heavenly friend.

     I always felt when I was younger, that I wanted a man to fall in love with me for my spunk, for my outgoing nature, and for my loud mouth. I also wanted him to respect me as a proud woman, because I am a proud woman. I also wanted him to fall in love with my sense of adventure and humor. The truth is, as I got to know Teresa more, I realized that we shared a lot of this in common. Then I realized, as I began to see God as lover and friend, that He fell in love with Teresa for all those reasons. That's when He told me how much He loved me. He asked me to marry Him. I got my childhood wish, that a man would fall in love with me because I'm out going, spunky, loud and proud. He fell in love with me for the same reasons He fell in love with Teresa. And that's why, I guess, we get along so well!!

     This morning, I got up and I boldly said to God, "I hate my 8 am classes. I can't make morning Mass with the sisters and it's really taking a toll on my Spiritual Life. I wish I could just...ugh... I hate 8 ams!" Of course, I laughed, because most people aren't that bold with God. But as our relationship goes, God was just as bold in His answer. He said, "Bec, my dear, be late." Since God knows me so well, He knows how much I hate being late. Being on time is late for me. And yet, He had the audacity to tell me to be late. Really? And so what did I do? I stayed for Mass. And it was so worth it. Not only did I get to pray with my sisters, but I got to celebrate my best friend's feast day with them! And it's a day I consider my own feast day because of my deep devotion to her. The readings were perfect! And I said to God that if Sister Regina plays my favorite composition of the Alleluia, I will know how much I am loved. Did she? Of course! 

      I know that today is a great day! The weather is beautiful, I was only two minutes late to class, it's Teresa's feast day,I have no homework due today, I get to paint tonight, and I've been getting to see so many of my favorite sisters. Yes, I've even run across campus a few times just for a great big hug from Sister George! Oh and I also got to talk to my High School principal this morning! Life is just great and I am truly feeling the love of God today! In my prayer today, I can't help but thank my best friend, Teresa, for knowing how to celebrate a feast day! When I look at her face, I see so much young wisdom, bold reformation, and true friendship with God. When I look at her, I see my own reflection. How great it is to know we are loved by God and that He alone is all we need!! Truth!!

Also, shout out to my Sister, Sister Teresa Mary on her blessed feast day!!

Time Is Love - Loving and Being Loved

"Time is love, gotta run, love to hang longer

but I got someone who waits, waits for me and right now

she's where I need be. Time is love."

- "Time Is Love", Josh Turner

     I apologize in advance for getting this song stuck in your head and heart. Truth is, I've probably quoted it a million times in multiple blogs. It's one of my favorites, can you tell? It just honestly speaks volumes to me. I love the feeling I get when listening to it: it reminds me of a perfect summer with my little sisters. I am instantly reminded of roadtrips to the beach with my sisters in the back seats, breaking rules and swimming in waterfalls, singing at the top of my lungs in harmony with my sister while driving to the middle of no where and waving at unsuspecting passersby while in traffic, and of course, I'm reminded of those early morning wawa coffee dates with the little one or midnight McDonalds run where we shared a box of chicken nuggets and a fruit smoothie (we are soooooo healthy, let me tell you.) I miss those moments of my summer, and yet they are forever molded in my mind. This song will always be connected with those joyous moments of time spent loving with my sisters. However, there's so much more to this song for me. 

     Last night was my first night back at work since last Tuesday because I've been sick. I had a few good days when I was at home, but I came back to school sick, sick, sick. I won't give you too many details, but it was one of my worst nightmares come true: no voice. I still have a groggy little froggy voice as little Lizzie calls it, but I'm doing much better. I am taking my time getting better though, so I don't relapse ;)! However, like I said, I went back to working portress last night. Usually when I go, it's like two ships passing in the night because as I am coming, she is running to ring the bell for prayers. But yesterday, I was pleasantly surprised by Sister Honora, who returned to the office after ringing the bell. Instead of running off to prayers, she sat in the "guest seat" in the portress office and chatted with me for almost a half hour. When she left she said, "I made this my prayer today. We have to make time to take time with those we love." I thanked her for the reminder that time needs to be taken. Then instantly, Josh Turner was stuck in my head. 

     As you could easily tell, I'm a writer. That's a shocker, I know! So, I wrote Sister Honora a letter. But for me, that wasn't enough. I needed to spread the word, because what she said was so true. And so, I ended up here. The truth is, and I told her this, I am always, always, always taking time to remind myself to take time for others. I have always been an advocate for giving small smiles, saying hellos and carrying on conversations with those I may not know very well, or being aware of the small things in a person's life. Yet, sometimes, I forget how much time is love for those closest to me. For those I love. I guess I assume they know how much I love them, and yet, I know I have to tell them, I have to show them, I need to give them time. And there are so many that I love that I don't tell enough. I'm going to change that. Because time is love and I need to give them more of my time. 

     This wasn't the only thing I realized though when she visited with me. After I really thought about it, she said we have to make time for those we love. Yes, I am reminded that I have to give more time to those I love BUT also, I need to make time to be loved. This week, while I was sick, I couldn't do much loving. I spent a lot of time in bed and sleeping. I wasn't really a happy camper, so there were no random smiles, no random conversations, no time for love. And yet, my heart wasn't empty. People, I realized were making time for me, to love me. I got a few phone calls checking up on me, notes from my "Mom" at school on my door, apples from my favorite Freshmen, and of course, conversations with some of my favorite Motherhouse Sisters. My visit with Sister Honora (and all the extra lovin' I got this week) was God's double reminder to tell those I love how much I love them AND to be open to accepting love. God, as He always does, took time to love, because right then, I was where He needed to be! Thanks, God. You're perfect! I'm so blessed to be loved by You and all the beautiful people you put in my life. 

Shoulders Aren't Just To Cry On

"Pulled into Nazareth, feeling 'bout half past dead.

Just need some place where I can rest my head.

Sister, can you tell me where one might find a bed?

She just grinned and shook my hand. No, was all she said."

- "The Weight," John Denver

     It seems that when I am at school, I can barely survive without at least two naps a day. I go to bed at midnight and get up at 6:30. Every. Single. Day. For the past two days, I have gone to bed at midnight and gotten up at 6. I've have no naps. And yet, I'm running on full. God has given me such grace and energy! And what grace and energy I needed to get through this adventurous day!

     Once again, I "pulled into Nazareth" and observed my dear Sister Mary Anthony for another few hours. However, today at Nazareth, I was once again reminded of something from my past. Something, that for some reason, I pushed deep inside myself and haven't let loose for a while. I was reminded of the deep and intense affect of a smile and of gentle words. Oh, and how much screaming "I love you" down any hallway really does hit home to peoples' hearts. Why? Because someone took notice. As much as I visit my alma mater, I don't know too many of the students there anymore. For most of them, I was a random visitor. And yet, a random visitor who wasn't afraid to smile, hug, or motivate my "new friends." Of course, my "old friends" appreciated it as well. Somehow, I knew I changed some lives yesterday!

      After the Nazareth adventure...well, there was another Nazareth adventure. As I said while we were driving, "Every time I'm in a car with nuns, people look at me weird. So I wave and I wonder why are they looking at me weird. When the drive away, I realize. Oh, I'm in a car with a bunch of women who have weird things on their heads." I can't tell you how many times that happened yesterday! Life with the sisters is so normal for me, that I often forget that to most people it's actually kind of weird, abnormal, out of the ordinary. So, I continued to just wave and smile at random passersby for two hours as we drove to Middle of No Where, Pennsylvania.

      There is something about the middle of PA that simply captures my heart. And while I'll always be a city girl at heart, I could easily adapt to Smalltown, USA in a heartbeat because essentially, my home "city" is a small town. The mountains were beautiful, the sunset, and even the fact that so many years later, Sister Michele still knew everyone and everyone still knew her, made my heart melt. As we visited her "second parish" for their Harvest Festival, I felt a deep connection with those people of St. Mary's. The truth is, what Sister Michele has with St. Mary's, I desire for me and St. Thomas. Every few feet, we met and hugged a different family or couple, meanwhile hearing stories about "Baby Sister Michele." You could easily tell the people there love her. The close-knit aspect of St. Mary's I found was just like that of my own Parish. And so, as I watched her interact with her previous parishioners, I  foresaw into my own future. There are some moments, I admit, that when I sitting alone in a pew before Mass, I think of how life will be when I come back to my parish as a Sister. Especially, if it's been so many years. I smiled to myself, as her family quickly became mine. If you know me, you know I could talk to a brick and have it be interesting. So, talking and connecting with the people of St. Mary's was a piece of cake! It was such a beautiful experience to know that my kindred sister could easily be a foreshadowing of my future for when "I go back." The evening was spent enjoying good home cookin', good friendship and great conversation. 

      Before we knew it, it was already time to go home. And so, the four of climbed in the nun mobile (the car who wishes it was an RV) and headed homeward. As I sat in the backseat and reflected, I realized what a crazy crew we were. We all shared some common bonds, but in truth we are so different. From the languages we speak, to the foods we like, to the way we dress (yes, even as sisters), to the way we interact with one another, we were different and yet, these three lovely women are women I consider my sisters, not just my religious sisters, but my real sisters. And since, I've only ever been the "big sister", they give me a chance to be the little one for a change. From letting me link their arms, to them teasing me about everything under the Sun, yes, I truly felt like a little sister. I embraced my inner Lizzie. 

      As I reflected, I, of course, fell asleep. Some of you may know that I can honestly sleep anywhere. My roommate has plenty of pictures to prove it. However, the car is probably the place I fall asleep the most aside from my bed. And before we hit the highway, I was out like a light. Somehow, I wound up sharing the shoulder of one of my big sisters, Sister Marcelina, in the back seat. The two of us slept soundly while our two sisters in the front listened to the same four John Denver songs over and over and over. And like little girls all grown up, they woke me by telling me I snored the whole way home. False statement, of course, but my role as little sister remained. And so when we pulled into Nazareth, I was about half past dead (asleep) and when I "asked" sister where I could rest my head, she didn't give me a bed, but her shoulder instead. The shoulders of my sisters, both related and non, are not just for crying on, but they can be for hugs, stories and road trip pillows. It was quite a beautiful night, if I say so myself!

Oh, and just for the record, this song, "Cows On The Hill" does exist! :P

A Constant Reminder

"A constant reminder of where I can find Her light that might give up the way.

It's all that I'm asking for without Her I'm lost,

my Love don't fade away."

- "Reminder," Mumford and Sons

     I'm a huge Mumford and Sons fan. Their new CD has been on constant reply since it came out on Tuesday. I almost know every word to every song. However, like with most music, I can easily find my new favorite song. This time, it's "Reminder." So often, I've been able to relate so many of their songs to my God and my Faith. This song is no exception. From the moment I heard it, I instantly thought of Mary, JC's Mama. Now that may be because on top of the dome at school, Mary is not only overlooking us all, but she lights up. True story. However, today, as I drove home from visiting my high school, "Reminder" took on a whole new meaning. 

     For the past week, I've been in a stage of avoiding all people, being solitary and quite frankly, downright miserable. We all have our down days, mine just happened to last a week. Life is not always joy and sunshine; sometimes it has to rain. It rained (literally) for me this week. However, there was one thing that kept me hanging on: Wednesday night I was going home. And thank God for Sister Cathy who constantly reminded me of that notion (just another reason why she's wonderful). By Wednesday morning, even my body knew it was time to leave campus and go home; pain was everywhere. And so, by the grace of God and the kindness of friends and professors, I made it home earlier than expected. I needed my Teddy Bear, my bed and my little snuggling sister. And Wednesday night, I got that.

      Now usually on Thursdays, I head out with a group of three other crazy Secondary Education majors (AKA my best friends) and go to observations. Since I was home, I didn't head out with my three best friends, but rather my little sisters. Yes, little Lizzie and I went to Mass after we dropped Mary off at the carpool house! Soon after Mass, Lizzie was walking into school while I was heading to my Alma Mater for surprise observations with one of my closest friends, Sister Mary Anthony. The honest truth is that, I missed first and second period because of heavy city traffic, and she only taught one class since her Sophomores were on retreat. However, that doesn't make the day worse, but better.

      You see, whenever I walk through the front doors, I don't get a visitor pass, but rather, a smile, a hug and a beautiful "welcome home" from my principal and the ladies in the main office. After I arrived, later than expected, I headed toward where "my sister" would be. Instead of finding her, I found another dear sister of mine, Sister Teresa Mary (she's after Teresa of Avila, my main girl). For a half hour, we chatted and caught up, something we rarely get to do when I visit. She's always busy; I'm always busy. But today, God was working in full force with the graces. After our visit, I finally found my sister during the activity period.
      She's a new teacher at my alma mater, but she has taken the place by storm. All the girls love her bustling energy, her creativity and her willingness to go the extra ten miles. As she was conducting her CSC (Community Service Corps) meeting, a plethora of my previous teachers floated in and out of the student dining room, each one surprised to see me but had more than one hug ready for me. There's no other place in the world where it is acceptable to hold a previous student's face, tell her how wonderful she is and then hug her real tight as if it's been years. In no other place could I have possibly bonded with so many of the faculty that I am their family, their youngest grandchild, their favorite niece, their crazy sister, and even their equal. I am seen not as a graduate, but as a member of a family. And the hugs and love I receive each time I walk through the door, reminds me of a huge, Italian family. I love them all.
      The rest of the day held constant surprises for me, but the biggest surprise of all was being able to help out at the Sophomore Retreat. Within seconds of my entering the gym behind all the girls, Sister Michele casually mentioned there was a visitor in the room. Truth is, I looked around, questioning who this visitor might be. Finally, as Sister David started to laugh, I realized this "visitor" was me. However, as I walked down the aisle, with a hundred plus sets of (unknown) eyes watching me, Sister Michele began to explain how I really wasn't a visitor but rather part of the family. She told the girls how we met at my own Sophomore retreat and how much it had changed my life in such a beautiful way. She casually mentioned how she never knows where I am going to turn up next, whether in New Orleans, Jamaica, Chicago, Philadelphia, anywhere and she was just as surprised when she heard I was in the building today. Then, as she often does, asked if I wanted to say anything. Of course I did.
      Somehow, I came out with the most random and God-filled mini speech about being open to God and His Will. I talked about stepping over the line into God's hands and having to take not just one foot, but the other behind it. I had no idea where that came from, however, I felt all those eyes on me and I knew, I just knew God wanted those words to be said. When I finished, Sister David (she was the first sister I ever told about my discernment) said to me, "Sweetheart, you've been open since the day I met you. That was beautiful." I couldn't help be return the wonderful words and tell her how great she is.
      For the rest of the afternoon, I helped my sisters in running the remainder of the retreat and what fun we had. As I interacted with both the students and the faculty, I couldn't help but feel such excitement for teaching in my heart. I was once again reminded about how much I am meant to be a teacher, especially for these high school aged students who really need, as one of the faculty members said to me, "a cool, hip, number one Jesus fan."
     And quite honestly, I need them. They reminded me today of hope, hope for my career, for my life, and for what God is calling me to do, but as a young person and a religious. They reminded me that it's totally ok to have those rotten, miserable days, because there is always going to be someone to hug you and embrace you, whether a friend, family member, sister or Jesus. They reminded me to remain open. And of course the reminded me of the light Nazareth will always be for me. Truly, without Her I would be lost. Oh and ironically enough, Nazareth has a dome that lights up, too!

"The Hottest Nun-To-Be..." - A Reflection on Beauty

"Find a man who won't simply fall in love with your body and what it could offer him, 

nor your personality or charm, but rather,

find a man, a true gentleman, who will fall first in love with your soul. 

That, ladies, is true love."

- Professor Mooney

     I am a woman! And as a woman, I know that every woman desires to feel confident. Women spend hours upon hours upon hours trying on dresses and outfits, curling or straightening hair, applying layers and layers of make-up, and of course, trying on every single pair of shoes in the closet. There is more time spent in front of a mirror making oneself up than actually enjoying the dinner, dance or date she is going on. And while it can be so fun to get dressed up and made up, what my dear sisters, is the real reason inside? Deep down inside, we make ourselves up for the same reason Eve hid in the garden after she ate the apple (that Adam didn't protect her from, mind you...). Eve was scared to be seen, and so are we. 

      The truth is there is such depth and beauty in a woman. It lies in her soul. Everything a woman does, if done with all her gusto and passion, starts first with a spark in her soul and thus, her soul shines forth in everything she does. However, the soul is a delicate part of a woman, and we are afraid to show it because of its nature. Because of our souls we trust easily, and we break and hurt easily. And thus, we hide it. Except, every so often, a tiny part of our souls peek out...when we break open our beautiful smiles. And it's during that quick moment of letting loose, that someone compliments us and we find our confidence. We desire that confidence, we desire to be called beautiful, we desire to be loved. It is part of the nature of womanhood. 

      Last week, I had the beautiful opportunity to travel to downtown Philadelphia with six of my peers for a Dinner/Dance/Gala/Bash. We were representing our lovely university with one of the youngest non-profit organizations in the city: Back On My Feet. This non-profit started with a young girl organizing a group of homeless men to go running in the morning. This expanded to the entirety of the city and now three times a week, BoMF runs with multiple groups of homeless and volunteers. This three time a week running eventually turns into running marathons, getting jobs and renting homes, thus, giving the once homeless a sense of responsibility, community and getting back on their feet. What a great honor to now be affiliated with this organization.

     Now, as you can see from the pictures, the required attire was cocktail dresses and suits, with....sneakers. Personally, that was my favorite part. We had such a great, fun time getting dressed up and wearing our sneakers. While at first it seems humorous, it was such a beautiful sight to see a sea of dresses and suits and a floor of sneakers. It was so wonderful to embrace a community not only sharing a meal together, but dancing the night away. And if you know me, you know I love to dance. That's when I feel beautiful!

      When I got home, I posted the pictures from the night for all to see so they could have easily shared in the fun. Of course, we all did the typical change of profile picture and cover photo once the pictures were up. And then the comments on the pictures came. One of them, I will always remember: "You are the hottest nun-to-be." Ironically enough, that was not the first time I've heard that said about myself. I've heard it a few times. And so, of course, I began to reflect on that statement.

      What does it mean to be "hot?" To me, I first think of 110 degrees in the dead of summer. However, our society has taken the word "hot" and made it slang, thus meaning, what people used to say as "good looking," "smashing," "dapper," and of course, "beautiful." I used to take offense to being called hot, because it made me think of what we, as women, have to do in order to be consider "hot." Young girls and women would not such as dress up but dress off. Meaning, wearing next to nothing...if you ask me, I'd be cold, not hot. So, I made it my mission to tell my sisters how beautiful they really are with clothes on. I made it my mission to be a physical example of how a woman/lady/girl could be beautiful. It's been my mission to promote true beauty!! The true bearing of a soul! And the courage and confidence behind it!

      When I got the notification of the comment on my photo, I had to laugh because in truth, that word "hot" has become such a synonym for "beautiful." I looked at the picture and thought about how good about myself I really felt that night. And the best part was that I was COMPLETELY DRESSED! Heck, I even was wearing sneakers!! I felt great, because I knew deep inside, I wasn't showcasing my body, but rather my soul.

      Someone once told me that I wear my heart and soul on my sleeves, one on each side. He said I'm not afraid to bear my soul to people, to be heartfelt. He told me that I don't need make-up or fancy clothes, because when I wear my smile, I am most beautiful. Finally he said, when I laugh (and it's pretty obnoxious) I can somehow change the world. And my dear ladies, that's what beauty is. It's being confident enough to wear a smile. You don't need perfect teeth or any teeth at all, just those two upturns of your lips. You don't to showcase your body, but rather, your heart, your soul. Laugh,and enjoy the life you wear given!! And maybe, next time you go out, wear your sneaks instead of your high heels. Are you "hot" because of what you wear? Or "beautiful" by how you act? I prefer to be beautiful, don't you!! And trust me, you are ;)

      As for being the "hottest nun-to-be," Jesus sure is one lucky Man, huh? I mean, sometimes, I swear God made me with an extra twinkle in my eye just to show off. Sorry, guys, I'm His!! 

When the window in the mom van doesn't go up all the way...sadness

Being a typical girl.

Love this girl so much...leaving a legacy <3

The left side of the table...

...and the right side of the table.

Potential to be best friends? I think so!

The Perfect First of Autumn

"The morns are meeker than they were, 

the nuts are getting brown; 

the berry's cheek is pumper,

the rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf, 

the field a scarlet gown."

- Emily Dickinson, "Leaves"

    One of the many known facts about me is that I absolutely, positively, LOVE fall. I've always been in love with sweaters, pumpkins, apples, leaves, hayrides and everything that deals with fall. I find such absolute beauty in it from the way the wind seems to blow differently, to the smell of all things pumpkin spice, the joy I see on my little sisters' faces when we carve pumpkins. I love taking walks just when the leaves are changing colors and falling on the sidewalks. I love the multiple fall festivals and I love the fellowship it seems to have about it. I just love fall so much!

     Now as many of you may know, the first day of Autumn was today, and what a perfect day is was for me! Although, I was caught it shorts and a t-shirt (no sweaters in this 82 degree weather), it was beautiful. The fog rolled across the hill of back campus like a picturesque movie and the wind gave a soft whisper in my ear as I and my friends and peers piled into the school van. We were headed to help out the Chester County Food Bank with apple picking. I couldn't have been more excited! It was the perfect day!!

     We pulled up and right away half of us were pinned as not having the proper attire. Oops, didn't get that memo. The only reason we were meant to have pants though is because of poison ivy. Most of us didn't care, so we picked apples anyway. It often seems that the best things are high up and out of reach. The same happened with the apple. The best and the brightest of the apples were at the tops of the highest trees. What the normal person would do would be grab a ladder to reach. What we did was climb on each other's shoulders to pick the highest apples. We actually got the job done faster that way!!

     After three hours of straight apple picking, three bee stings (or kisses, as I like to call them), lots of laughter, tons of pictures and bushels of good fun, we picked over 2800 pounds of apples that day!! It was more than they had picked all week!! I guess with 13 people, we can really get a job done!! It seemed like such a perfect day, picking apples. But my Fall Fun wasn't over yet. 

     When we got back to school, my dear friend and I decided to don our aprons and go on a baking spree. Inspired by the apples we picked, we decided on some fall flavored fun foods, like pumpkin spice cookies and banana bread. YUM! For two and a half hours we baked and baked and baked. There are so many pros to baking in our dorm building. Not only do we get to have fun with each other while baking, we also get to feed to the hungry friends and sisters and share the joy. Being domestic, we decided, is one of our favorite hobbies. I can honestly say that in less than 24 hours, almost all but few cookies are gone!

     While baking with my Aproned Queen Partner in Crime, we decided a few things. One: All of our recipes that we've made in the past year and the next few years HAVE to go in a recipe book, that we are going to make my hand!! Because you know, we never do anything NOT from scratch!! Two: if we could change the world by baking for people, we would bake all the time. Three: Sister Cathy always gets first dibs on tasting. Four: There should always be a plate of something homemade somewhere!!! There's a beauty in that! 

      And so, the perfect first day of fall ended not just with providing the hungry with 2800 pounds of apples for apple sauce, but baking a bundle of fun for some many!! Oh how I wish I could bake all day, every day!!! 

Innovative way to get those apples at the top.

These overly friendly, kissing friends.

Thumbs up for 2800 pounds of apples.

"Even Jesus picks apples."

My beautiful RA catching apples!!

Pumpkin Spice cookies!!!

The Two Beautifil Aproned Baking Queens

The taste-testers!!

Learning How To Fall Into Solidarity - A Reflection on Wes Moore

"Are you going to partner with someone because you know them? 

Or because they are fellow IU students?

Or because they are fellow human beings?

You're more similar than you think. "

- Professor John Church

      One little known fact about me is that from the moment I turned 15, I wanted to earn my pilot's license for small aircraft. Whenever I'm asked during an icebreaker what superhero power I would love to have, I always say to fly. There is just something so great about being able to fly OR having the wind at your face. The goal to earn my pilot's license came as a result of a few reasons: First, I could have a pilot's license before a driver's license. Second, two of my uncles are licensed pilots. Third, something about growing up to being a sister who had her pilot's license was enticing. And fourth, it coincided with another one of my goals.

       Honestly, when I was bout 15 years old, I made a list of 25 life goals. Some were a little crazy like "swim with polar bears or some other 'dangerous' animal" and "live in Africa." But others were a little more reasonable like, "get my pilot's license" and "jump out of a plane." Yes, I've always wanted to go skydiving. Now, of course, I wouldn't do both things at once, that is, fly the plane, then jump out of it. But, I wanted to do those crazy things. However, those were the dreams of a naive teenage girl and I had since put those dreams to the wayside. Until last Thursday.

        One of my many roles on campus is an First Year Experience (FYE) Mentor. This means I "co-teach" a class of new students once a week with a faculty member. During class we cover all types of subject matter such as school policies, academic success, time management and the common reader. The common reader is always my favorite part. The whole class of 2016 (and every new class coming in) has to read a book. This year's book was The Other Wes Moore by Wes Moore. In addition to actually reading the book, the students have to write a reflection paper on the book and attend a faculty lecture on the book. My job's easy, I just have to read the book. And maybe attend a faculty lecture. Ok let's be honest, I'm a literature dork, so of course I'm going to attend probably all of the faculty lectures! I started with the first faculty lecture this past Thursday. 

        The lecture began by Professor Church telling us how to jump out of a plane as a paratrooper. Professor Church is not only a wonderful English Professor, but also a retired member of the US Marine Corps. So when he speaks, he doesn't speak, he yells. I love his energy. Over 110 new students, in addition to many FYE mentors, and some other faculty members were present. I'm not going to lie, if I was a new student and had never met Professor Church, I probably would have been scared out of my seat. He told us all to link arms and so we did; all of us. Then he kept shouting "six minutes," "five minutes," "one minute," "thirty seconds," and he had us all standing up, linking arms, swaying back and forth, shouting back his commands. All of a sudden, I felt like I was really jumping out of a plane. But, right before he should have shouted, "Jump!" he calmly said, "Sit down." 

        Having not read the book yet, I had no idea why this played any role in Professor Church's lecture. Regardless of this fact, he easily wove it into so many beautiful and wise statements. Lucky for me, I started and finished the book yesterday while at work. It was the type of book that I was so into, I couldn't put it down. Whenever the phone rang at work, I didn't answer until I finished the paragraph. And when the book ended, I openly shouted, "What? It's over? It can't be over." Yes, I want a sequel. But the truth is, there can't be a sequel; it's a true story. And right toward the end of the book, one Wes Moore goes through his first jump out of a plane as a paratrooper, while the other Wes Moore is being chased by the police for the murder of a police officer. Both experiencing adrenaline, but of two different sources. 

        Finally, I had the connection between the paratrooper exercise we did at the faculty lecture and the book. But really, there was so much more with which I could connect. It was a story of solidarity and of understanding. Of two different people realizing so much similarity between themselves. For many it's hard for us to imagine poverty. Even if we don't have time for a job between classes, or take a vow of poverty, or don't have a car. But the truth is, we are so rich; I am so rich. I have a roof over my head, a family who loves me, and a hot meal every night for dinner. I go to school, I go to the store, I go to the gym with ease. I don't see any gunfire, or heroine use, or severe alcoholism. Not when I'm here at school. However, only a few steps outside my hometown, all of that poverty is right before my eyes. Every scene that Wes Moore described in his Baltimore City or The Bronx, I've seen before. I know it's real. I see it all the time.

        Professor Church covered all types of things in his lecture about poverty and solidarity. He said, "If we just took the time to get to know each other, we'd find that the more we know about each other, the more similarities we find." That really hit my heart. It's so true. There might not be that many differences between myself and the homeless teenager I see walking down the street when I'm home. Yes he might be younger than me, and a young man, but maybe his favorite color is yellow, maybe he likes the Phillies, maybe he has two sisters, maybe he likes to paint, maybe, just maybe, he's not that different from me at all. And that's what both Wes Moore and Professor Church were trying to make young people like myself understand. It all goes back to the paratroopers. We can't stay in the plane, we have to jump, but we have to jump together. Am I willing to "partner" with someone who appears so different? Am I willing to take the chance? Am I willing to risk my own life, maybe, by reaching out to them?

         Right before I got to college, I took a few ridiculous goals off my list, revised a few old ones and   added a few new ones. I always wanted to teach, but going to college made that a reality. So what? What did I want to teach?  Who did I want to teach? Where did I want to teach? Why did I want to teach? Originally I wanted to teach Theology, but somehow English squeezed into the picture. I think it all makes sense now. I want to teach students, from all different cultural backgrounds and in the inner city of Philadelphia's poorest neighborhoods. Why? Not to save these students from some type of crime, gang life, or drug and alcohol addiction, but to feel solidarity with my fellow human beings, my brothers and sisters in Christ. I want to live what they live and work for a better world in solidarity with all people. That goal is more like a dream, a dream formulated by so many, including both Wes Moores and Professor Church.