pause

freedom fair

2007-10-01T14:56:00.000-04:00

When I met "Star" in Thailand, she was 16 years old and full of laughter. But when you got to know her a little bit more, you soon could sense her great self-doubt, emotional scars and vulnerability that she carried as a result of being sold when she was 2 years old, and starting at the age of 12, was forced to be a sex slave for multiple men, multiple times a night. And you heard about the terrible nightmares that she now suffers from... She was rescued at 15 and put in a safehouse. She was lucky. She has an uphill battle to climb, but now she has hope; a hope for her future and a hope that comes from above.

That is what we want for every child, woman and man that is caught in the bonds of slavery: hope. There are 27 MILLION of them worldwide forced to work as prostitutes, toiling in the fields or factories, as a child soldier, in someone's home or as a bride. Most of those slaves are under the age of 18. That is why we are having the Freedom Fair.

THIS Saturday (on the same day as Allendale Day), we will host an ALL DAY event to raise awareness about modern-day slavery because we CAN do something. And slavery does not just exist "over there". It also could exist down the street from you... I've personally known about 3 separate trafficking incidences in north Jersey in the past 6 months.

MAIN EVENT at Holy Grounds Cafe 6PM - Midnight: Live music by Thomas Torrey, Grant Reitzel, Blue Was a Bear, Dan Harney, FLEECE and more! Special guest speakers from Restore NYC (www.restorenyc.org) and LOVE 146 (www.love146.org)

ALL DAY from 10am-midnight: Jewelry and Handicrafts on sale made by human trafficking survivors, Art Exhibit, Info on human trafficking, representatives from organizations fighting injustice: Polaris Project, World Vision, The Emancipation Network and more!

Raise Your Voice! Take Action! Come Learn!

JOIN THE MOVEMENT

Isaiah 58

perseverence and perspective

2007-07-19T15:39:00.000-04:00

I am reminded just now of how little I know about perseverence. A client of mine from West Africa told me that she received word last week that her sister passed away in childbirth...and so did the twins that she was carrying. And yet my client says that she will eventually be ok. She is miles and miles away from home after suffering torture, imprisonment and rape, escaping to the US, going through the dark night of depression and becoming completely dependent on others and now is in the long process of seeking asylum, but she tells me that she will be ok.

For so much of the world (even for some in the US), life is just about survival. Perseverence means simply moving forward through great hardship so you do not die. I hardly think that I have come across much in my life that requires that kind of perseverence; and yet I can still easily complain.

God did not intend this type of world, and yet that is the world that we live in; a world full of brokeness. As I heard in a sermon last week, I am convinced that this world and this life do not make sense outside of the view of eternity. It is only in eternity that things are put in perspective. Without the view of eternity, what is the point of all of this struggle and where is the hope? Even though things in this life will never "be fixed", we can live with present hope that we can choose to be saved and restored into a relationship with a loving God and spend an eternity in His presence, and know that He is present with us now and that He suffered for the brokeness of this world more than we ever could know. Not only that, but He has given us the Holy Spirit to dwell with us and in us (as believers) to be able to be used by God to bring hope and healing into the world now. This is a mystery and a paradox that I do not fully understand, but by God's grace, there is redemption happening in the world that we are just getting glimpses of now, that won't be fully revealed to us until Christ returns and brings true justice and wholeness.

Come, Lord Jesus, Come...

"I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away
Stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say 'Amen', and it's still raining

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain 'I'm with you'
And as You mercy falls
I raise my hands and praise the God who gives, And takes away

I'll praise You in this storm
And I will lift my hands
For You are who You are
No matter where I am
Every tear I've criedYou hold in Your hand
You never left my side
And though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm"

-Casting Crowns-

"what would you say to the church in the US?"

2007-07-19T01:26:00.000-04:00

I was looking through some old college stuff the other night and ran across a bunch of essays and assignments of mine and my classmates who did the HNGR program (6 month internship with a non-profit in the developing world) at the same time as I did. One of our assignments was to interview a local pastor using prescribed personal and theological questions. The question asked that stuck out to me the most upon rereading some of them was "What would you say to the church in the US?"

This is significant because I think that most often, "the Church" in the US (and by that I mean mostly Protestant and Evangelical churches and sometimes Catholic and Pentecostal churches) sees itself as a leader in Evangelizing, in teaching, in missionizing and in works of compassion. We have seminars, we have bookstores, we have formal networks and colleges and schools and social organizations and political organizations and clubs and retreat centers and radio stations and tv channels and coffee houses and music and I could go on and on...and then we proceed to spread those thing overseas so that other may have the type of resources and the "Christianity" that we have. We have all of these things at our disposal that we are freely and sometimes aggressively spreading all over the world, and yet I don't think that anyone would deny that we are really not a Christian nation. However, when other countries (especially in the developing world) look at the US, they see us as a "Christian nation".

But the ironic thing is that America is no longer the captain of the team (so to speak) insofar as leading the world in having a Christian following or being concerned with the Kingdom of God. Europe has already been "secularized" and much of America is already falling suit. The new Christian "epicenter" so to speak no longer resides in the global north but has (and is) shifting to the global south...to Africa and Asia and Latin America. So how ironic is it that we, with all of the resources, at times continue to send, send, send to other places that may just be stronger in terms of Christian leadership than we, and we don't do a whole lot of receiving?

More attention has to be paid to our fellow Christian brothers and sisters overseas in the developing world because they are the new and future leaders of Christianity and we need to listen to them. We just happen to still hold the microphone. We need to give them a mic on the world stage and not just show up in their countries armed with "Evangecubes". We need to receive from them as much as we give. We need to recognize that maybe the American church is not only no longer the "captain" of the team, but that we are also on the sidelines more than we realize.

Here are some snapshots of their answers to the question, "What would you say to the church in the US?"

Pastor Smucker (Prophet/Pastor) of Bethel World Outreach International – Buduburam in a refugee camp of Liberians in

Ghana

"I would want to say personally to the West that it is time to help the church take responsibility, moral responsibility, for ourselves, and not be dependent upon the West…Like before we had to receive Bibles, we had to receive food, we had to receive clothes, but this word of God is able, the power of this word of God is able, to supply our need.
My own message to the West would be to get encouraged, get involved in the sending aspect, the sending aspect of missionaries where people have not been reached, where the Gospel has not reached. Get acquainted with Africans. Let them do the job and let them do the job themselves. Before they sent missionaries, and missionaries came and went back, and missionaries had to stay for 45 years, but rather train the Africans. Let Africans get trained and discipled to do the work themselves. Let them take responsibility, I believe that will be really meaningful to the church in Africa.”

Assistant Pastor of Kumi Pentecostal Assemblies of God Church in the Teso Region,

Uganda

“There is so much happening in the West that doesn’t please God, and these things should not happen. Things like homosexuality, manufacturing weapons, sponsoring wars, the enormous drug trade, which is illegal, but began in the West. Let people focus instead on God’s Word: Why did Jesus die for us? What are the dos and don’ts of the kingdom? Instead, the West is promoting very bad things. Although they condemn many things, they also do them.”

Pastor Maow of TLC Church (Assemblies of God), Chiang Mai,

Thailand

“I would tell them that we need to make a partnership. We need to support one another in prayer. It’s not about money, but networking.
I know what works in Thailand (in the church). I trust that people in other churches in other countries know their own way. Some ways of doing things we disagree on because the deeper way is not understood. Some believe (arrogantly) that they know what we should do. For example, Koreans bring to Thailand their own way of doing things. People here see that and say, ‘That is not our way, not our lifestyle.’
When this church was started, there were problems because an American missionary did things the American way. After some significant leadership problems between myself and him, he came to talk to me and apologized. Now there are a lot of things to fix in the church. The original people coming at that time saw everything being done the American way and didn’t look at me as the leader.

Things are better now as new people have come in. Before, the congregation did not listen to me. I felt like people in the church just came to have fun. (At this time, the church was heavily involved in YWAM English outreaches.) Now new people are coming and the church is growing."

Pastor Sameh Maguib of an Evangelical Church in Cairo, Egypt

“We are in need of the prayers and help of the Western church, in a variety of ways and methods. We appreciate their support. Pray also for us as we are seeking to address the social problems around us such as drug use. We also need more ministers and pastors. People these days don’t desire to become a pastor."

Christine Matemu (lay leader of congregation Charismatic movement) of Majengo Catholic Church in Arusha, Tanzania

“Repent of sins, share the gospel, and come be with us. Africa loves you and wants you to know the joy of Christ”

Santos Isidro Jejurge Acosta “Chiro” of a small church in El Naranjo, Honduras

He asks for prayer and aid/help for the Honduran church. He also expressed that he wants to thank the American church as it has been very helpful to Honduras.

Pastor Romilton of the church in Kalyanpuri, India

“Let people come from there, let them see and have more burden. Let them pray for North India and if God gives them a burden, let them support the church. We want their prayers.”

Pastor John Mastern of Capital City Baptist Church in Lilongwe, Malawi

“Churches in the west have to understand the African church in its context. Our churches came out of cultural background. Christianity came around the eighteen hundreds. People are being transformed to leave this culture to a new culture that is why it is a process. Roman Catholic couldn’t allow people to sing in their own cultural way, with drums and so forth, they believed it to be demonic. In this culture we have a chief, and so much reverence is given to the chief, you kneel down before him. And the message speaks of another one more powerful that the Chief. We kneel and give respect not just for sake of fear but reverence. And so you see when Americans come to church putting on shorts they are not giving respect because they see him as my Father. In western culture it is so easy to understand that. But in Malawi when a son addresses his Father he looks down—there is so much respect...
The media is somehow biased in their portrayal of Africa, especially in Malawi. They don’t believe that anyone can make it. When I was in the States people were so surprised to see me wearing nice clothes, preaching in a big church, and pursuing my Mastors. Misconceptions are there...
The Western Church has a lot of resources; some are just misusing them. When I was in the US I went to a church that had cost 65 million USD to build. It had a gym for the young people and for the old people. The carpet matched the ceiling. Capacity building of the local people is important. Because they are able to identify-when they see me a Malawian is equipped and trained they begin to believe they can do it too. Several of us should be equipped and empowered.”

Pastor Lester of El Shaddai Baptist Church in Granada, Nicaragua

“Two things: One, that they be praying for us, and, two, that they continue obeying the Lord.”

Pastor Nirand Dtamee (native of Burma) of Eternal Life Church (Bible Presbyterian) in Chiang Mai, Thailand

“Revive yourselves! As a church that was one of those that first brought Christianity to many parts of the world you need to continue to show a good example. The best and the worst come from America. There are good churches there and strong Christians but there are also strange things that come out of that country. Go back to the Bible and follow it. Come back to the right road. I do not really want to comment too much on specific issues but I want to say that as a former leader you have to set a good example for the many people who look to you. Even now, if people here want to further their Christian education most still have to go to the USA because we can only get primary Christian education in the East. So you have to continue to be grounded in the Bible so that those who need to learn from you can learn the kind of Christianity that honors God.”

time out

2007-06-22T00:31:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I'm flying "across the pond" to Holland with my mom for a first ever extended mother/daughter trip and the first ever mother/daughter trip out of the country. While I have to admit that this trip is for my mom (if I had the money to spend on an overseas vacation -ha!- it would be to get back to Thailand), I am really really excited to just get away from everything for more than a three-day weekend.

I have found this year that while some people thrive on the commuter lifestyle, I don't. It's not for me. Yes, I like to be busy either getting things accomplished or investing in people, but to spend 15 hours a week just traveling and doing things en route, with your "life" with you in your bag or in your car, I'm giving that a big no. I already feel like I'm enough of an organized mess as is, but with the added always on the go save Sundays (I'm usually "commuting" to dance rehearsals on Saturdays) some days (mostly mornings) I feel like I'm less organized and more mess. Some important things have been slipping.

I guess that this post is a little bit more of a confession...not really a private one, but more of realization that I came to today. While I like to sit and think and write sometimes about ideas and interactions at work, I more rarely spend time to evaluate where I am, personally in life and in my relationships. (I used to do that a lot more and HAD to for part of my major in college.) Both in my relationships with God and with my family (and friends) I have kinda stopped thinking too hard where I would like those relationships to be and just kind of let them "be". I guess, in other words, I am guilty of sloth in the realm of intentionality in the most significant relationships in my life.

I am not sure if THAT has been intentional or not on my part. Sure I could blame part of that lack of intentionality on my outside circumstances such as draining schedule, difficult subject matter at work (as well as the fact that I label it "The Nebulous"- I have made it a noun), recovering from a particularly stressful period at IINJ when I was the only full time person in my dept. for 2+ months, the personal struggles that I see in my parents and divorce that I still mourn over and the conflicts that it still causes and the big transition ahead this coming year. I guess because of the these outside factors, I use the excuse that I don't usually have a wh0le lot of emotional energy left to be intentional in evaluating how my relationships with those most important to me are developing. I am content to just let them be and enjoy the good that's there. Sometimes that's good. All the time, it's not necessarily bad, but it's not growing and developing either. It lacks the commitment to speaking the truth in love and the "iron sharpens iron" bit.

I think that I can pin the start of this retreat from being intentional though to last summer, when, after HNGR, readjustment and going home, I didn't want to think hard anymore. (Though I did about "big issues".) At one point after I moved home from college, I decided that I was just tired of "rocking the boat" at home. I was tired of feeling like I'm on a tightrope in the middle, of being sad because of things of the past, of getting into arguements over what happened or didn't and implications for the future. It became much easier to just desire to move on, to think about something else that's more mindless, to not "rock the boat" if the boat is just going to capsize anyway. But I think that maybe that not wanting to "rock the boat" has invaded other areas of my life as well and not just with family conflicts anymore. It think recently it's been extending to many aspects of my relationships to my family and as well to my friends, coworkers and to my Father in Heaven.

I don't know. Maybe this commuter lifestyle has also given me more liscense to "zone out" instead of to be intentional with my time. It almost feels like when you spend 2 hours in the car everyday or 2.5 hours changing trains, time almost feels suspended. Though you can get in some reading or call someone on the phone, it's much easier to listen to music and just zone...and that's what I've been more inclined to do over the past couple months.

Maybe I do just need a vacation, but I'm also aware that I don't just want to coast in my relationships any more than I just want to float through life. Perhaps the Holy Spirit has convicted me recently about this lack of intentionality by bringing to mind good memories of very intentional communities and groups of people that I treasured in college. I hope that this vacation, besides just a good time in a different country with my mom will be a good time out for me, where I can think about some of these things, and mainly think to pray about them.

sanctuary

2007-06-19T18:41:00.000-04:00

For the past 3 weeks, I have been working to try to find housing help for one asylum seeker in particular who has been living in a semi-isolated, not healthy situation, and starting tomorrow, she will have a room to live in but no funding or transportation to get food (and my organization doesn't have it's own food or housing resources.) She cannot legally work and is dependent on others (like most of our clients unless they live in Jersey City and work at gas stations under the table...) but has not been able to network to find someone else to take her in. I have been trying to establish possible connections for better housing for her, both in the small African community around here and my own church connections and a network called Sanctuary. In the meantime, we have to wait...

SANCTUARY: MINISTRY OPPORTUNITY TO "ADOPT" AN AFRICAN REFUGEE IN NEED OF A HOME IN NJ

"Claire" is a 25 year old woman from Cameroon. She is incredibly sweet, softspoken and intelligent. Until two years ago, she was pursuing her masters in human rights and had high hopes of one day being a lawyer. Those dreams were cut short after she was arrested, tortured and falsely accused of being a dissident and a rabble rouser after participating in student community organizing. After a narrow escape from those that were persecuting her, Claire had to go into hiding for several months before being able to obtain a visa to come to America as a summer student intern. If she were to return to Cameroon, she would be rearrested and killed.
She is now seeking asylum in the United States and has a pro bono attorney representing her case. However, Claire is in need of housing. After being in two precarious living situations since this past fall, Claire is living in a place where it is incredibly difficult for her to access transportation and now is dependent on food banks and soup kitchens. She does not have a permit for work and cannot legally support herself until she is granted asylum. Claire is receiving case management and support from a non-profit organization in Jersey City, but they are very limited in terms of how they can help her with food and shelter.

"Claire" is just one of many people fleeing for their lives from oppressive governments on account of their beliefs, ethnicity and political views. Right now, in Jersey City, Newark and even New Brunswick and Montclair, there are more than 100 people seeking help from the International Institute of NJ as they are waiting to put their lives back together in a process that can take many months or even years. Some of them, like Claire, have had to bounce from bad living situation to bad living situation, unable to legally work and support herself. If you would like to consider being a part of the Sanctuary network of churches and temples in Bergen and Passaic counties and receive email alerts and updates for when there is a refugee like Claire in need of an adoptive home or if you would like more information, please contact...

"You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat..." Isaiah 25:4

"'He defended the cause of the poor and needy, and so all went well. Is that not what it means to know me?' declares the LORD." Jer. 22:16

Luke 10: 22-37

the giving of meaning

2007-05-17T23:50:00.000-04:00

I interact with a lot of the psycho-analyst types...which is probably rational given that I work in a program that is under the Cross-Cultural Counseling Center at IINJ. Currently, most of our counseling grad-student interns are leaving as their semesters are coming to a close, and thus they have to say goodbye to their clients that they have been see for therapy for the past several months.

Last week, I had a conversation with one of those interns who has been counseling the same (survivor of torture) client for almost 2 years. She shared with me how hard it is for both her and her client that she now must make a clean break in ties with him. She also told me about the next phase of her program and how she has a different internship as a clinician at a mental institution, working with patients with severe mental disturbance. I asked her (so far) which has been more challenging for her; working with asylee survivors of torture or working with mentally ill patients.

She paused and acknowledged that both groups of people are severely marginalized, making neither job easy to emotionally shoulder. However, she said that it has been a lot easier for her to find and give meaning to working with asylum seekers, who, if they can heal from their past trauma and get through the asylum process, will have a shot at achieving "The American Dream" and building a new and potentially fulfilling life for themselves. Working with patients with incurable mental disorders however, doesn't give the therapist a lot to assign meaning to. She went on to tell me about one of her current patients who spends most of his days locked in a padded room because in the past he has hurt both himself and has harmed his caretakers. He is suffering from advanced schizophrenia. Many of those patients in that institution need to be monitored carefully when they are out of their rooms so they literally do not escape and attempt to jump off the Staten Island Bridge. She said that in situations like that, it is difficult to assign meaning to the relationship or to the purpose of the therapy.

"Assign Meaning"… I have heard that phrase many times this year. Usually, this has been in the context of the grad-student intern meetings that I sat in on with the supervisor of the counseling department. It has come up in conversation over working with clients to get ready for court, working with clients to sift through past trauma, working with clients as they try to literally start their lives over here, working through our own "issues" of how we try to assign our own personal meanings to the client's experience, realizing that to mentally cope we have private ways of assigning meaning to what we do and acknowledging that each culture and each religion has it's own way of "assigning meaning" to life's events and life's problems and then learning to listen to and accept others' "assigned meaning" of life. Anotherwords, humans have this drive, no matter what their background or culture, to “assign meaning” to the events of life…especially to the hard events.Each time I hear “assign meaning”, something inside me cringes slightly. Somehow, it seems that this rhetoric of "assigning meaning" is one nicely labeled semantic game of what humanity has been playing since the beginning of history. Or, perhaps it’s more of a dilemma.

As an anthropology major, I studied this concept from the macro/community context level. Every culture has different ways of assigning meaning to the things of life. Different symbols, concepts, events, material things and language have culturally assigned meanings. However, I think that this talk in my office of “assigning meaning” hits at a much more fundamental and universal concept that wants to answer the purpose to the meaning of life, and if there is a purpose to our existence and the relationships that we form. It’s almost asking, what is my philosophy of life in the face of this tragedy or seemingly pointless interaction with this person who seems to be leading a life that will only continue to be tragic?

For my fellow co-workers (many of whom are openly non-religious or only religious in terms of culture), personally "assigning meaning" to life and death seems to be a normal psychological process, just like assigning words to objects and concepts so that we can think about them and communicate about them clearly. But like words and language, most of them seem to believe that each culture and each person's ideas about the use of meaning can be different. Somehow, this then allows us to then move on once we process it (by labeling it with our meaning).Yes, I acknowledge that we all want to find tangible, personal meaning for things that happen in life, especially if they do not happen the way that we plan or the way that we think they ought to happen. Everyone wants to find meaning in the seemingly meaningless things of life. Even Christians often fall into the trap of using trite phrases to assign meaning to things that are tragic. Romans 8:28 is sure thrown around a lot when we are faced with major loss. So is that verse about "I know the plans I have for you..." in Isaiah. But are quoting those verses just the Christian version of stamping a personal meaning onto something like a shattered dream? Can we take those stamps and apply them to the man in the padded cell that will probably never lead a normal life or have people that deeply love him?

As a Christian, I do believe that all human life does have purpose (no matter how insignificant or pathetic that life is) and that meaning is not subject to how people might try to assign it. All are created in the image of God. Part of our purpose is relationship, not just to God, but also to each other. But when I think about all the senseless tragedy in this world, I do want to tack something on to it that will give it a more tangible reason for existing, for something that seems so utterly purposeless, so that it can be more palatable to me. It's almost become tempting for me to accept a secular psycho-analyst view that this as a normal human response and perhaps an evolutionary, adaptive way of coping with the cold facts of life that allows us to keep living so that we don't just die of despair.

But is this just a very natural, very human thing to do: assign meaning so that we can just cope? Is life all about assigning personal meaning? And does this just come from our culture, background and personality? It just seems to be so ultimately pointless; that we believe that each culture and each person assigns it's own meaning to life's triumphs and failures, pleasures and pain, and ultimately, death…but in the end, it REALLY doesn't mean anything because it's a just an adaptive human response so that we can continue on with life and reproducing life. In the end, doesn't THAT seem meaningless?

We can find personal meaning when we see the results of something, but how does that theory hold up when we don’t see the results? What’s the meaning then? Was there still a purpose in our interacting with the man in the padded cell? Is there a purpose to that person’s existence?

I think that God would say that there is always meaning to interacting with our fellow man, and therefore I can say so too, even if I can’t tangibly see the purpose. God is the one that gives meaning to all life. However, it could be that the psycho-analyst’s response to that would be that’s just my way of coping with reality…

(I feel like I need a good Ravi Zacharius quote here…when I finish reading “Can Man Live without God?” I’ll pick one out and post it.)

heart of the conflict in Darfur

2007-05-16T00:49:00.000-04:00

Over 300 people fasted and prayed for Darfur yesterday.

I spoke with a co-worker about the fast that so many people are participating in and I wanted to ask her what the root is of why genocide is taking place in Darfur. She is a refugee from Sudan (not from the region of Darfur, but all intellectuals are persecuted in that country in general). She and her husband spent a few years in Egypt before being able to come here. They had to leave because her husband was a journalist and politician that displeased the authorities. (Most of the intellectuals not connected to the power of the government have left actually.)
She said that at the heart of the conflict in Sudan is an identity crisis. Basically, the government for the past few decades has tried to either brainwash or force everyone to think they are Arab or to accept Arabic culture. All who oppose that are not under the totalitarian reign of the government and therefore are a direct threat to "The New Sudan". The Arab group in power in the government is forcing the identity of the country to be Arab, but they are not Arab; they are African. So underneath all the complexities of the conflict over there is really a fight for power over ethnic and national identity. The Janjaweed militias are just a violent tool towards that end.

She told me that since coming here to America, she and her husband have given up their dreams for the future of Sudan.

Habakkuk. 3:17-19

nebulous

2007-05-15T00:20:00.000-04:00

I have decided officially. I work for a nebulous.

In all my idealistic visions of doing humanitarian work in a way that is God honoring despite the circumstances, I think that this is probably one of the most dysfunctional non-profit organizations ever and I think that I will be ready to move on come end of summer.

And I do realize (as one friend already pointed out to me) that nebulous is NOT a noun. However, I believe that to use it as such, just furthers the unformulated, hazy, sometimes random and ill-defined way of doing things of the program at IINJ that I work for. And I think it's catching...I can feel myself becoming a bit more "nebulous" in the way that I live. Dear Lord...

Perhaps my next goal in life should be to become some rich guy's trophy wife.

Just kidding...most probably.

how to know you are (suffering from being) a hardcorps commuter

2007-04-09T20:40:00.000-04:00

I realize that most of my posts in the recent months have been about pretty heavy topics. Life however, and particularly working as a case manager through Americorps this year, is not heavy all the time and I am very thankful that recently through a calming down of responsibilities at work and a young adults retreat, I feel very refreshed.
So, I am dedicating the next few posts to taking a lighter, more humorous look at life.

If you think you might be suffering from hardcorps commuter syndrome, symptoms may include:

1. Your commute takes more than an hour and usually entails more than one form of transportation.
2. You become a skilled subway-surfer: reading a book and/or holding a cup of coffee while standing in a crowded car en route.
3. You see people every afternoon running, nay, sprinting from the PATH train (subway), upstairs to catch connections to NJ Transit trains. About once a week, you find yourself among their ranks. In fact, you start strategizing which car of the PATH subway to initially get in, so that as soon as the doors open, you can get in the front of the crowd to run upstairs.
4.You become skilled at dozing on the train so that you can wake up just before your stop.
5. You get aggitated when they change the train schedule by 1 minute.
6. You get to the train station parking lot an hour before you necessarily need to catch the train just so that you CAN GET a parking stop at the train station at all.
7. You do one or all of the following in your car once you have secured a stop at the train station in the morning: apply your makeup, brush and fix your hair, take a nap (I know I'm not the only one who does this...I've seen the same guy in the parking lot completely concked out, sitting in his car with the engine running, a couple of times.)
8. The only time you utter profanities is when you do not get a spot in the freaking small non-resident commuter parking lot at the train station because you were a few minutes too late and now you have to drive to work and put to use your aggressive (and newly aquired) NJ driving skills.
9. You have had your car towed from behind a Panera that you parked at because you could not get a spot in the designated non-resident parking lot.
10. Fridays excite you, not primarily because it's almost the weekend, but because you can usually get to said parking lot by 7:40 and still find a spot instead of by 7:15 at the latest M-Th.
11. You have gotten a ticket AND had a boot put on your car tires simutaneously because you parked on a sidestreet in the city for 1/2 hr over the time limit.
12. You've found yourself explaining your life story to someone at the city parking authority in the hopes that he will pity you and not make you pay to take the ****ing boot off your car. He winds up repeating the same schpeil about the city policy over and over, seemingly hits on you, and then still makes you pay $75.

If you are suffering from one or more of these symptoms, you may need help.

At least you can know that you're getting things done for America!

am i qualified for this?

2007-04-02T23:30:00.000-04:00

I did a central intake interview today. This is where a new potential client who has come into IINJ sits down with someone, usually from my department (counseling), to talk about what has brought them and what type of services we may be able to offer whether they are seeking asylum, can qualify for the refugee resettlement program, are looking for counseling or just need something translated, a refferal or a lawyer for a change of immigration status. Most of the time, this entails getting an overview of a person's background, checking their papers and status, and hearing a bit about their story without getting too much into the details. Most of the time, I can go through the motions of doing the interview with the necessary paperwork and know basically what to expect and what to say, how to wrap things up and promise them a phonecall from the right department in the near future. Many times, I hear new stories about persecution from unfamiliar places in Africa or more familiar stories now from places like Chad, and afterwards I take a deep breath, finish writing notes, file them in the right place and move on to other things of the day. Every so often, I am caught off guard and am unprepared to deal with the story and the very person before me. Today was one of those days.

I interviewed a woman from Darfur, newly arrived to the states about a month ago. What I thought would be a short interview, turned out to be a "Here's my story in detail from the very beginning of the current conflict in Darfur, through 3 different countries and back to the present." Here was a woman before me that was pretty much on the front lines of human rights and NGO work in one of the currently most repressed places on the planet. Without saying too much about the details (all info has to remain confidential), let's just say that I could never be as brave as the woman sitting before me on behalf of a cause, or as diplomatically poised or as hands-on educated in women's rural development. I felt like with the exception of a little language difficulty (English is only her 3RD language afterall), she could be my professor. And there I sat, trying to take in her story, furiously scribbling notes on events and places that I know next to nothing about beyond vague recollection of things that I had read on the BBC. Honestly, it was one of those times I felt pretty dumb for not knowing more about world events...specifically African world events. But it was also one of those times where I just couldn't comprehend the magnitude of the problems facing the people over there, and I couldn't get my mind around living through conflicts, corruption and danger like that, or the ease with which lives could be destroyed. Even though I have lived in one part of the third world, I have no context for grasping something like that.

She spoke pretty fast, not resting for too long on any one event but just kinda let her story flow out from one event that led to another, sometimes in chronological order, sometimes skipping around. I had to try really hard to concentrate. My brain was shutting off. If it wasn't for one of our volunteers, Eiman, sitting with me mostly just nodding, who herself is from Sudan (though she left about 10 years ago), I don't think I would have been able to mentally stay with it for the whole thing.

When she was finished I told her about our SOT program, let her know that we are Not connected with any government agency and had to ask mundane questions like "what's your current address?" (seems kinda flippant to ask a question like that after hearing the above story). I gave her my work email address, the name of another agency that she might want to look into working with (Sauti Yetu- African women's advocacy agency in Brooklyn) while she begins to go through the long process of finding a lawyer to take her asylum case, and told her that she is an amazing person and that many people in America would love to/need to learn from people like her.

So I kept a level head, gave her the basics of information about how we may be able to help her, and promised that after speaking with my supervisor, someone would be in touch. And then she left, to enter into a period of what I know will be a rough time of adjustment in a rough city, and mostly, waiting.

While I was with her and then after she left, trying only somewhat successfully to refocus on all the other things to be done, I kept wondering, who I am that I am in this position that someone who is such an uncelebrated hero would come to this organization to speak with someone like me, looking for help? How could they find their way here, to this communicationally challenged office, and sit and then ask me for direction? I am not qualified for this.

"high velocity trans-cortial lead therapy" part 1

2007-03-02T15:48:00.000-05:00

This means on certain days, I would like to shoot myself...mostly due to altruistic sounding, but extremely deceptive and thoroughly evil system called "Charity Care".

more to come...

boundaries and check lists vs. walking in their shoes

2007-01-29T01:52:00.000-05:00

I am trying to work these things out in my head...that is, if I can first manage to put my finger down on the right question(s)...and I don’t know if I’m there yet.

"With all the details to try to keep straight with my clients at IINJ, trying to delegate tasks to others and brainstorming ways to make things streamlined or flow more efficiently in the program as well as following up to make sure that the ball isn't being dropped anywhere (unfortunately, the ball does get dropped sometimes with some clients because we have so many), I haven't been able to concentrate as much on building rapport with the clients that I am there to help. Everything has become much more of a task list. Helping to meet their needs and get all their paperwork done has become much more of a thing to check off on a list than to see myself really working with them. I now feel like I am more often working FOR them, and I am also beginning to feel like I am perpetually behind. There is ALWAYS more that I could be doing to help meet their needs or get things organized. But at the end of the work day, you just have to brush it off and say, "tomorrow", so that you don't get burned out, bring excess stress home to family and friends, etc." (from the previous post)

Since I work with people from the two thirds world, sometimes I can't help but think back to when I was actually living in the two thirds world, at New Life Center in Thailand, and what a contrast life was there compared to how things are now, back before I got a taste of the commuter life. I was at New Life Center primarily to be practicing a "ministry of presence" with the girls in residence, many of whom were survivors of human trafficking. Most of the girls had a lot of problems: psychological, academic, social, familial, financial (all from poverty), health, spiritual, legal, etc. However, my role there was not to be a social worker or a counselor. I was only there as a learner, and a type of mentor (without being able to rely on my verbal skills). There were times when I literally had nothing to do there, but just kind of be with them and try to identify with them. I really wanted a schedule and structure...ANY kind of structure. I even tried to set up certain times of structure with the girls (dance, english tutoring, going "jogging", "going out") but those plans frequently had to be let go. I wanted tangible things I could do for them; to help them or to move them forward in life; to use the privileges and skills that I had grown up with to benefit them. But, I had to face the hard fact that in that time, I could do virtually nothing to change their immediate circumstances.

I was a foreigner, learning how to live with a group of young women (who lived in an unsteady world with a lot of problems) in a foreign context. Though I was more highly educated than they probably ever will be, very little of that mattered while I was there. Much of the time, I felt like a child or a fish out of water, not a person with any kind of game plan to address the problems or the pain surrounding their circumstances. There I was, this educated, rich, independent, white American, with every kind of opportunity and freedom open and available to me (compared to them), feeling most of the time like I was not able to offer a darn thing. In fact, sometimes I felt like a burden, being dependent on them. At points I doubted God's purpose and wondered why I was even there. It was an incredibly humbling experience, not being able to really "do" anything besides just "be" with others. Sometimes, it got to a point where I felt I couldn't stand to be there anymore, like I had to get out, just feeling so helpless and anxious, both on their account and my own. Living there, I really felt like I got a taste of powerlessness at some points, and I hated it. It's an awful feeling.

Why do I bring this up after talking about how busy I am trying to do things for a different group of marginalized people in an office? These two experiences are drastically different. One took place in a Baptist shelter/dormitory in Chiang Mai for girls at risk for and rescued from human trafficking, while the other takes place in an office in Jersey City where professionals, volunteers and students are trying to help refugees and survivors of torture mainly from Africa meet their legal, medical and psychological needs and also help them to adjust into life in America. While the people, places and circumstances are different, the basic idea of both "programs" I have been a part of are the same: to help marginalized people who are survivors of their circumstances (if even just barely) to get to a place where they will be "ok" in life and in the society that they now find themselves in. The method for getting them there in each respective place is somewhat different.

Ok, so, what's the problem? Both of these experiences are good. Both have/are teaching me different things and have/are drastically expanding my worldview.
But, somehow, I can't seem to reconcile these two experiences very well together in my mind.

Maybe, participating in the HNGR program messed me up. Before I left for my internship in Thailand (and had a lot of naive expectations for myself and for others that I would work with that got creamed once I was there for a couple months), my group of outgoing fellow-students talked a lot about identifying with the people that we would work with overseas, of coming to see ourselves as part of their family, as sharing in their joys and sorrows just as Christ shares with us in ours. We were going out already burdened for the places in which we would live, taking with us as a kind of life theme, the need for global unity in the Body of Christ; and the first plan of action to meet this need was to go "seeking to understand and not to be understood."

So there many of us were, all around the globe, seeking to understand what had and was still happening in the two thirds world plagued by war, poverty, disease, slavery, hunger, inequality and the dark side of globalization and how it is affecting people; and also seeking to learn from people and organizations that are working for redemption and transformational development in the name of the Gospel, and how that is part of God's Kingdom work. In the process, many of us felt very broken for the people and situations we encountered and learned in a new way (or for the first time) what it means to practice the Biblical principle of lament.

Personally (and this is hard to admit), I probably did more lamenting over there than was healthy. Maybe I didn't "look out for my needs" as much as I should have as my supervisor sharply pointed out to me at the end of my time there. "You can't help anyone if you are depressed most of the time." True. Quite frankly, I'm not sure how I was supposed to do that when the first girl (the only one who could speak some english) that I was introduced to and assigned to be a friend/english tutor, who showed me around and showed me how to “shower” from a bucket, who I slept next to and who I witnessed overdose on sleeping pills, was suffering from major post-traumatic stress disorder, and nobody warned me about how secondary trauma can affect you: (this is when you spend a lot of time with a PTSD person and begin to over-identify and show some similar symptoms).

Beyond that one intense and then unsteady relationship with that girl, relationships with other girls formed where I began to view them as little sisters, and in a couple rare instances, as peers (a few of them were my age). In the short space of time of a few months, much of their world became much of my world. But then there were times when “my real world” came crashing into “their world”; times like when I moved out of the center into my own room at a different location, when I went out to eat at nice places with my supervisor and other ex-pats, when I frequently used internet cafes to stay connected with people on the other side of the world. And I felt guilty, a lot, because those two worlds couldn’t really mix, and I couldn’t just “brush off” their problems from my head or my heart when I walked through those gates at the end of the day. (I decided recently that it's taken me a full year to "recover" from HNGR; aka, not to feel intense emotions or pain when I think back to my experiences and relationships formed there.)

So again, what does this have to do with my experiences now working with African survivors of torture in Jersey City?

Now, I am in a place where, yes, I am supposed to have compassion for and build relationships with my clients, but our relationships are never technically supposed to become more than that: case manager and client. In fact, everyone working under the counseling department (as I am) has been warned to be careful not to cross that boundary of counselor or case manager/client and to train yourself to shake off the burdens that they bring into the office at the end of the day; because if you don’t, you will burn out. And yes, I’d say for 75% of the time, I have been successful at not becoming overburdened by the problems and circumstances of my clients. Sometimes I do lie awake at night and think about them. Once in a while I do come home sad or intensely frustrated or just feeling drained. But I can hardly say that I identify with them. I can’t really say that I have taken a walk in their shoes or stepped into “their world”.

So the philosophy/system under which I am now working is almost opposite to the one that I learned during the HNGR program. I am mostly doing. I am mostly giving. I am drawing boundaries. And I don’t feel guilty when I go home to a house in the suburbs and a family at the end of the day.

I am brought back to some major questions that I began to wrestle with more than a year ago when I was still in Thailand and had to write a paper on “Wealth, Poverty and Power”. As a member of the elite in the world and as a Christian, what am I supposed to do when encountered with these types of situations? Is it better to identify, to enter in to the places where I would rather not go as an act of “incarnational voluntary displacement” (to quite Henri Nouwen in his book, Compassion)? Is it better to work from a place of privilege, to use skills and the resources available to the elite in order to help people with no resources of their own (kind of like what I’m doing now)? Or, is it possible to try to do both of these things at same time, or to find some middle of the road approach? Am I even asking the right questions?

a rant

2007-01-27T01:12:00.000-05:00

Things have been really busy in the office for the past few weeks...not that they weren't busy before; but for me personally, things have gotten kinda hectic. The specific program that I work for has lost almost all its funding...which means the 2 full time staff that were present (including my supervisor) when I first started in Sept. are now part time...which is highly upfortunate, considering that they have much more experience than I do and so many clients were pretty dependent on my West African co-worker who now comes in somwhat sporatically on a volunteer basis and doesn't usually communicate a whole lot with myself, the other Americorps member working in the department now and the volunteers we have (as well as the student-intern counselors who are there 2 or 3 times per week.) C'est la vie... Life goes on and we continue to move forward.

What this has meant for me is that I suddenly find myself as a sort of "point person" for everyone. I am one of only 2 people consistently there everyday to case manage, meet with clients, do intake screenings and follow up. Since I have been working at IINJ for 3.5 months longer than my new Moraccan co-worker and fellow case manager/Americorps member, I have become the one to train a few volunteers that we have added to our team, sort of delegate tasks, try to figure out how communication is going to happen between all these people coming in and out during the week as well as try to prioritize meeting the needs of the clients I am "in charge of". While my supervisor is really good at counseling, honestly, she's pretty bad at delegating and giving everyone a "plan of action". In our weekly meetings, problems are brought up or things that need to be done are recognized, but then often, things are left just kinda hanging with little indication of who, when and how it should be taken care of. And, in many cases, there is no exact road map to follow for addressing those needs anyway.

In short, with the abscence of procedures in place and communication as to exactly who's doing what, with the addition of the factor that we are a social work/counseling office, we are pretty inefficient most of the time. Hense, all the while I've been recognizing these things and have brought it up, I have unofficially been put in charge of organizing or finding solutions to our fragmented ways of doing things.

With all the details to try to keep straight with my clients, trying to delegate tasks to others and brainstorming ways to make things streamlined or flow more efficiently in the program as well as following up to make sure that the ball isn't being dropped anywhere (unfortunately, the ball does get dropped sometimes w/ some clients because we have so many), I haven't been able to concentrate as much on building rapport with the clients that I am there to help. Everything has become much more of a task list. Helping to meet their needs and get all their paperwork done has become much more of a thing to check off than to see myself really working with them. I now feel like I am more often working FOR them, and I am beginning to feel like I am perpetually behind. There is ALWAYS more that I could be doing to help. But at the end of the work day, you just have to brush it off and say, "tomorrow", so that you don't get burned out, bring excess stress home to family and friends, ect.

Oh man...
At least maybe I can say, "I am getting things done for America!!!" (the Americorps mantra)

simple joy

2007-01-18T18:35:00.000-05:00

One of my clients from Rwanda saw snow for the first time today (and she's in her 50s). It was so fun to watch her look at the winter in amusement at the flurries and pick out a coat from our coat drive rack.

This is one of those clients that tugs on my heart more than others. Not because she's very gregarious, warm or talkative, but because she has this inner strength, determination and devout faith, even in the midst of depression. Because of her husband's outspokeness about the injustices Still taking place in Rwanda and the government targeting him for it (jail for several years and torture before getting out and then escaping to the states), she and her children have been subject to many threats by the police. Now, she has joined her husband here (she got a visa through a church- how I'm not exactly sure) and they are each applying for asylum, but with much red tape to get through and even interferance from the Rwandan Embassy who labels her husband as a fugitive. (We don't believe that here.)

Her children are now in hiding in a neighboring country with a Pastor's family, and I can't imagine how excruiating it is for her to simply be here and wait while legal proceedings drag on. While in Rwanda, she worked for 15 years with a well known human rights/charity organization, uniting family members that were separated during the genocide in 1994. Now, she is the one waiting to be reunited with family.

cast all your votes for dancing

2006-12-31T01:53:00.000-05:00

A beautiful poem (found by Laura Eppler) that really affected me as I just read it.
by Hafiz, as translated by Daniel Landinsky

I know the voice of depression
Still calls to you.

I know those habits that can ruin your life
Still send their invitations.

But you are with the Friend now
And look so much stronger.

You can stay that way
And even bloom!

Keep squeezing drops of the Sun
From your prayers and work and music
And from your companions' beautiful laughter.

Keep squeezing drops of the Sun
From the sacred hands and glance of your Beloved
And, my dear,
From the most insignificant movements
Of your own holy body.

Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins
That may buy you just a moment of pleasure,
But then drag you for days
Like a broken man
Behind a farting camel.

You are with the Friend now.
Learn what actions of yours delight Him,
What actions of yours bring freedom
And Love.

Wherever you say God's name, dear pilgrim,
My ears wish my head was missing
So they could finally kiss each other
And applaud all your nourishing wisdom!

O keep squeezing drops of the Sun
From your prayers and work and music
And from your companions' beautiful laughter

And from the most insignificant movements
Of your own holy body.

Now, sweet one,
Be wise.
Cast all your votes for Dancing!

between no entrance and no exit

2006-12-25T11:56:00.000-05:00

I listened to an old Christmas tape that my family has had for years. It is the story of a struggling single mother living on the bad part of town who is about to get kicked out of her apartment and has no where to go with her daughter since everyone has abandoned her. It's Christmas-time, and she sees no point in celebrating. Her little daughter comes home with a Christmas ornament that she had made in church. On it is written, "All is well." The young mother is brought to her knees. "God, how can this be true?"

I've felt like that from time to time. I've even personally felt like that lately and on behalf of others. "It's gonna be ok Janelle," someone said to me recently. "It has to be ok." ... Does it?

This Christmas season has seemed a little dark. It's been hard to be joyful.
Yesterday, I sat in a pew, holding back tears as a choir sang joyful Christmas songs from a beautifully decorated stage. It was hard to focus. My mind kept wandering to other things.

But one of the messages of yesterday was that God breaks through impossible circumstances to bring possibility to life. God in the form of man, entered time and space through the womb of a virgin; a place marked "no entrance." And yet He came. And God in the form of man was brought back to life after being laid in a tomb; a place marked "no exit." And He still lives. Between these 2 impossible circumstances, God chose to confound all logic and give us life. Nothing is impossible with God.

But what does this mean in the midst of individual circumstances God? Where is your power here and now? There are some circumstances that seem simply irreconcilable, simply too sad or tragic. Is all well here? Will it be?

In the story on the tape, the young mother tells the little girl to give the ornament to one of their neighbors, because she doesn't want it. That neighbor turns out to be one of the members of the church. What proceeds to happen is that many members of the church pass the ornament around from house to house, and as it exchanges hands each time and each person reads the message, each person gives a donation for the young mother and her daughter. At the end, they present the gift of money to her, with the ornament, and the ultimate reason that all is well: John 3:16.

I, by myself, can look around and see no reason to say "all is well" or "it's gonna be ok." But the pressure is not on me to find a solution to the present. I may not always see happy endings to a lot of stories like in the Christmas tape. But somehow, God is working life into impossibly difficult and sad circumstances. The question that I have to ask myself is, do I trust Him?

land of the free

2006-12-18T15:46:00.000-05:00

Here's an article online featuring a man from Kenya who was recently granted asylum after receiving help from our office. Pretty neat. I've met this man before.

http://www.libn.com/article.htm?articleID=37281

do I "have difference"?

2006-12-15T01:44:00.000-05:00

This is a question that has been provoking me for the past three months since I started my job at IINJ.

I work with immigrant survivors of torture, or, people who nearly escaped from that or similar circumstances. I am doing this because of a profound conviction that has developed in me mainly over the past 3 years that Christians need to care about the poor, the oppressed, the orphan, the widow, the marginalized, the silenced and the lonely. Not only do we need to care, but we must have a radical commitment to do something about it, because that is what Christ modeled. That is the side of Christianity that often gets neglected in most suburban churches. That is the side of my faith that was never stressed where I grew up in church.

But so ok; I'm a Christian. I'm even a Christian that has come to believe in themes that the minor prophets of the Old Testament stressed about a God who cares about social justice and mercy and demands that of His people. I am a Christian who wants to believe that I am different from others because my faith in Jesus sets me apart and drives me to do what I do and that gives me hope in situations where there should be no hope. But when I walk into my office Monday through Friday, I am virtually surrounded by a group of people, (most of whom do not share my faith) that share that commitment to seek justice for the oppressed, help for the needy and love for the lonely. Many of them would probably say that they are not driven by a conviction derived from faith at all, but simply by a commitment to human rights.

There's nothing wrong with being committed to human rights and letting that influence your actions, or in believing that the goodness in humanity will triumph over many circumstances of evil. (I am NOT saying that I do not believe that all of humanity is fallen, morally distorted/confused and sinful. I do believe this.) But if you believe that the "goodness" of a struggling humanity is all that there is to hope and strive for, that seems kinda empty doesn't it? If you know that you have been rescued from your own pitifulness by a God that sacrificed for you, shouldn't that set your attitude, actions and motivation apart from others who do not share that belief?

And yet, there is irony here. When I look around my office, I see people, of multiple faiths and of the secular variety, that are perhaps doing a better "job" at "having difference" than I am (not all, but some). I see some people who are more committed to their cause than I. I see some people with much more hope, more enthusiasm, more endurance, more heart, more discernment, more determination and more outward signs of peace than I have. Sometimes I feel that as I am surrounded by all of these “good” people, I have nothing tangible to offer, nothing to give our clients that surpasses what they have. This, if it is true, is a troubling realization. It's a slight cognitive dissonance.

I’ve thought about this issue a lot when I am working closely with and slowly getting to know some of my coworkers. I mainly work with a team in the survivors of torture department who I call “Women of the Book”. One is a fiery, middle-aged, Argentinean, liberal Jewess with strong Israeli roots and who has an “organic” way of operating. One is a semi-religious, super-busy, Catholic woman from Togo who is very sweet but somewhat uncommunicative, type B and random which makes work sometimes difficult. One is a fairly recent immigrant and very type A Moroccan woman who is very religious and recites “Praise God” and “If Allah wills it” in Arabic all the time. And then there’s me…the only one of us who is not an immigrant and is not fluent in 3 languages. (um, yeeeah…I’m working on 2).

On the one hand, the four of us couldn’t be more different. On the other hand, we all share the commonality of a faith derived from one original set of scripture and one God. This makes us theological cousins (with a pretty bloody history all around) and theoretically, we all should be motivated by faith in a just God in the way that we live our lives. And yet, the 3.5 religions that we represent are all pretty different. While all look to God as creator and merciful judge, only one of them theoretically is not dependent on human effort to ensure salvation. And that's me. That's the camp that I represent; the camp with the most hope because being declared clean, whole and free from the bondage of sin is not dependent on what I do but on what Christ has done for me as my advocate to God. Not only that, but it is because I can have a relationship with this Advocate and through him, God, that I can find hope and healing for my wounds, because He was wounded also.

And yet, in the way we "Women of the Book" function in the office, in the way that we interact with the clients and build relationships with them as we are providing services for them, are we really acting any differently? Because I believe that I have the presence of the Holy Spirit within me, is there anything different about how I treat and interact with these people who are separated from their children after they fled their countries for fear of their lives, as three brothers from Chad just heard that their father was killed in rebel fighting, as a young woman is trying to find a new life here after she was burned with acid and raped? I can't technically "bring my faith into the mix" as I am interacting with these clients and being their case manager on a daily basis, but is my faith making a difference? Is my motivation for being there with them any different than it is for my Jewish, Muslim, Catholic and secular coworkers?

I don't know. I honestly hate to say that I don't know.

"You said, ask and you will receive whatever you need...

You said, ask and I'll give the nations to you,

Oh Lord, that's the cry of my heart."

correcting an untruth

2006-12-14T23:33:00.000-05:00

I saw this article in the BBC today: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/6178793.stm

In short, many people in Europe and North America are advocating for the protection from violence being committed against sex workers and "street walkers" and that these workers should be able to receive social services and medical care just as in any other legal job.

However, the irony here is that when anyone purchases the "services" of a sex worker, he (or sometimes she) is always purchasing dominance over her. No matter what you want to call it, prostitution is always violence against women!

Trying to institutionalize this heinous aspect of our world culture under the guise of "protecting women" is only further reinforcing the belief that it is ok to use your power (mainly men with money) to assert power over someone else.

This is not ok.

a good reminder for this sabbeth

2006-12-03T01:07:00.000-05:00

So, I don't think that this quote was meant by the person who wrote it to be about God. But when I read it, that's how it hit me:

"Deafened by the noise of desire you are unaware the Beloved lives in the core of your heart. Stop the noise and hear His voice in the silence..."

i feel sick to my stomach

2006-11-30T14:08:00.000-05:00

This afternoon, my supervisor popped her head into my office as I was speaking with another counselor about her clients. She announced that we have an emergency situation that she just heard about. There is a young Muslim, immigrant woman who is pregnant and unmarried. She said that her parents are going to kill her if they find out (as this is punishable by death in the country she is from). I was asked by my supervisor to find a number for a local clinic that performs abortions and then to give her the information.

My supervisor left as quickly as she came in. V (the other counselor) said that she knew of a nearby Planned Parenthood that we could call. Then she looked at me, and must have seen the change in my face. "You're really disturbed by this aren't you?"

"V," I said, "I can't participate in this... If you want to do the research, that's up to you. But I cannot."

"Um, oh, ok. I'll do it. I have no problem with abortions," she said as she spun around in the seat and started looking up phone numbers on my computer.

I sat and looked at the ground. P, my Togolese coworker and Catholic sister in the faith listened, but kept on working on the document she was translating from french to english.

"This is really a touchy subject for you isn't it?" V asked over her shoulder.

"Yeah, it is," I said. Before I could say more, V commented, "Well, I guess everyone has their own beliefs."

"It's a human being not a belief!!" I exclaimed in my head, sitting uncomfortably in my chair. Instead of working to protect both mother and child, the solution presented was to get rid of the "problem" and to eradicate the evidence. I felt at such a loss for words at that moment. Even though I already knew that I'm in the minority on "religious" or "moral issues" such as that in my office, I have never come so close to the reality of it before. And it hit me pretty hard. I was hoping that P, as a sister in Christ, would share the angst that I felt.

After some moments of silence, P turned around in her chair and kind of sighed as she slowly got up in the way that she always does and adjusted her glasses. "Sometimes, this is just the way things have to be. I don't like it, but, that's the way it is."

Now it felt more like a personal defeat. I felt the weight of the irony that we, as an institution and as a program, put ourselves in the position to be advocates for some of the most marginalized people in our country; working to ensure that their human rights are protected. And yet...the most vulnerable of all, the unborn, are still viewed as expendable and undeserving of rights. In my mind, the issue of human rights for refugees, freedom of the slaves caught in human trafficking and the protection of the right to life for the unborn are all one in the same. Our society teaches us something different...

And still, feeling too discouraged to get into what could be an emotionally charged discussion, I said nothing, and only silently prayed for this 20 year old pregnant "woman" who I had never met, hoping that I would somehow be able to get information to her that she has other options.

"But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never failing stream....

You have lifted up the shrine of your king
the pedestal of your idols
the star of your god-
which you have made for youselves."

Amos 5:24, 26

a "typical" client

2006-11-30T00:53:00.000-05:00

What is the "average" client (applying for asylum) like in the survivors of torture program?

I am usually in my twenties, sometimes a little younger, once in awhile a little older. Often, I come from Chad, or maybe Congo, or Kenya or a number of other places. Often, I'm Muslim; often I'm Christian. Typically, I'm male.

My story may be incredibly tragic. I might have lost my entire family. My world may have been turned upside down. I may have suffered unjust imprisonment, torture, rape or femal genital mutilation...because of my tribe, because of my religion, because I spoke out against the government, because of some obscure family relation I have to someone who was in power at one time. My spouse, parents or children may still be under threat in my home country, while I am here...waiting.

Or it may just be that I felt severely threatened by people or war in my country and I fled while I could. I got a student or tourist visa, sometimes at great cost or deception, and got out of there. I may not be able to prove that those threats were tangible however; or that I would still be under threat if I go back to my country. I may not have a good case...

I may live in Jersey City, Bayonne, Montclair, Paterson, Union City or Brooklyn. I may be living with 5 other people in one appartment, or relying on a friend from my country to pay some of my rent and give me food. I don't have the money to pay for anything like medical bills. I only receive Charity Care if I have to go to the ER, which scares me. But you can be sure that I almost always have a cell phone. I want to be able to have some sort of life here you know? And even though I'll accept a donated coat, I don't want to look like a refuge.
When you talk to me about my story, it may be hard to get anything out of me.

Rarely, I'll gush my story. Once in a while, it's hard to tell whether or not I'm making things up. Much more often though, there's a whole lot that happened to me that I can't bring myself to articulate. Typically, my roommates that I live with from my same country don't even know my story. We don't really talk that much...or trust each other.

You might see me sometime. In some instances, I attend english as a second language classes at a local community college to try to better myself for the future. More likely, I'm working 6 days a week for 12 hours a day, making 5 dollars an hour under the table. I may be your cashier, washing the dishes at the restaurant you ate at, or pumping your gas.

What do you think of me?

If I tell my story...

2006-11-20T22:45:00.000-05:00

"I will live free if I tell my story..."

This is what it comes down to for asylum seekers in the states. It is both a beautiful statement, and a dreadful one.

Beautiful in that by merely proclaiming truth, revealing what was hidden, exposing evil and acknowledging the past publicly, a person may be able to experience freedom from persecution, torment and the threat of death for the first time in years...sometimes decades. The idea of claiming human rights, making a life for oneself and pursuing dreams can become a reality here in the states where it is not a reality in so many other places.

Dreadful in that by going through this process of applying for asylum, you are setting yourself up to face the firing squad of legal investigation, exposing your most vulnerable emotional, mental and sometimes physical wounds for many to see on numerous occasions, all while you may be suffering with too many symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder and culture shock to think straight or function normally. This is a process where you must relive coming face to face with your worst fears; the things that you are trying to escape from. Functioning on limited resources, often not understanding the english language, depending on others to navigate you through this process while your life is on hold for about 2 years; the odds are stacked against you in the post 9/11 American society. If you think this country is going to grant you asylum, you better have some pretty darn good evidence why your life is in danger and that you have no place else to go.

The therapists in our office have to be careful not to re-traumatize our clients by forcing them to speak about their past traumas when they are not ready, when they are suffering from the fight, flight or freeze mentality that kicks in (differently for each person) when you are severly threatened or traumatized and can linger for many years or even the rest of your life. At the same time, they must be mindful that the reality is these asylum candidates must recall their experiences and be able to testify about them down to the details in order to receive the protection they seek.

But, the light at the end of the tunnel promises freedom (for the percentage of asylum candidates granted). I hope that for most of our clients in Jersey City, they truly will be able to live free one day.

(Currently, most the clients I interact with are from Chad and other countries such as the Congo, Cameroon, Sierra Leone, Egypt, Kenya and Rwanda.)

What is Asylum? a blurb i wrote...

2006-11-14T11:10:00.000-05:00

Criteria and Policy of the International Institute of New Jersey Assisting Clients in the Asylum Process

What is Asylum?
A person who leaves his or her country because of fear of harm or persecution can ask for a type of legal protection called “asylum”. Asylum in America is only granted after an interview by an asylum officer at the Department of Homeland Security or a hearing before an immigration judge. This officer or judge will be looking for evidence on why the asylum seeker is in danger in his or her home country and cannot go back. Persons applying for asylum have one year to file a case after coming in to the U.S. If granted asylum, the person will be considered a “refugee” under U.S. law. This means that the person can live and work in the U.S. and bring his or her spouse and children to this country. One year after receiving asylum, a person can apply for permanent U.S. legal residence.

Who can Apply for Asylum?
A person must be able to prove that he or she has a fear of persecution due to:
A) Race or Ethnic Group
B) Religion
C) Nationality
D) Social Group/Class
E) Political Opinion
F) Forced Abortion (or other coercive population control methods)

The immigration judge or asylum officer will be looking for tangible evidence of threats, torture, abuse, unjust imprisonment and other forms of persecution that happened to the asylum seeker while in his or her home country. The judge or officer will also want to see confirming documents, medical and/or psychological evaluations and a logically written personal statement (affidavit) that all help prove that the person is suffering from persecution due to one or more of the above reasons.

What We Can Do to Help You:
After an initial interview here at the counseling center of IINJ, we will try to help you as best we can through the asylum process. If you have a strong story about persecution or legitimate fear of persecution from your country because of one of the above mentioned things, we will do our best to support and coach you through the process by helping you to get a lawyer, write a testimony in the American legal style, translate documents and prepare you for your interview. We also have counselors available to meet with you individually or in groups to help you process what has happened in your situation, adjust to American society, and give advice about how to best move forward with your life. The counselors are an ear to listen to your story and will sit with you and give you counsel. We also can provide case management help in other areas such as health insurance, ESL, clothing and other areas of concern.
If we are able to assist you with your legal case to seek asylum status, we will help you to write a testimony and then send that testimony to a lawyer for review. Before a lawyer agrees to take your case for pro bono work (free of charge), he or she will want to make sure that your story is strong and credible. Should the lawyer decline to represent you, we will try again to find another lawyer. It is our policy that we will work with you to find a lawyer three times. If after the third time a lawyer interviews you and does not accept your case, we will advise you to seek a private lawyer if you still wish to apply for asylum before your one year date in the U.S.
Even if we are not able to help you to seek asylum in the U.S. and take you on as a client, we will still try to provide advice and referrals on the best course of action that you can do in your circumstance.

morning commute and the evil range rover

2006-11-07T23:29:00.000-05:00

So, this morning, I was trying hard to make it to the train station by 7:15 so that I could get a space to park in the parking lot in Fairlawn where they've oversold parking permits (I have one). I got there somewhat late at around 7:25. I drive to the end of the narrow lot for non-resident parking, hoping against hope that I will still be able to get a spot, when low and behold, there is one left! I speed up a little to make it to my triumphal destination. To my great chagrin, a range rover pulls into the parking lot just in front of me. The color is red, like the devil, and on top of the vehicle is this ridiculous looking rack that looks like it's meant to hold a small sailing vessel. I knew what was coming. The damn car took my spot, and I had to, once again, park a block away behind this Panera and hope that no one notices or cares to tow my car like the menacing sign warns. As if I haven't done enough illegal parking already this year. I now officially don't like range rovers. (Sorry Tanya)

I also officially believe that the state of New Jersey sincerely has a wish to pollute the environment by being the worst discourager of mass transportation ever. I mean seriously, there is absolutely no easy solution for commuter parking. Even where there are places with reliable parking that actually allow non-residents to park there, you can hardly consider them affordable. (Oh right...I'm doing Americorps...)

What do I hope to be doing in 5 years? Am I on the path to getting there?

2006-11-07T00:11:00.000-05:00

This past summer, after a long and arduous process of finishing my final integration paper encompassing my internship in Thailand last year, I was supposed to end it by answering the question: "What can I see myself doing/hope I will be doing in 5 years?" (Hmmm...I'd just like to know what I'll be doing next month...or next week...let alone in 5 years!) I couldn't answer the question specifically, but I did lay out principles that I had learned through that experience that I always hoped to live by. Now, post-grad, post-summer adventure in Europe, I am 2 months in to my job as a case manager in the Survivors of Torture department, working with clients mostly from north and central Africa at the International Institute of NJ and I confess that much of the time I don't know what I'm doing. Still, I am trying to live towards some of the goals I had set/hoped for myself, but when I stop to look at the big picture, I'm not sure how this is going.

I am certainly idealistic to a degree in the things that I wrote in that paper, and hope to remain so. However in the world of social work (especially with immigrants/refugees), I don't know how long being idealistic about "being the change" can last. Some long-term people in my office view myself and others new to this work as bright-eyed young people paying their dues to society and who then will go on to bigger and better things than styaing with a non-profit trying to remain afloat on almost non-existent funding and whose workers are jaded by the many stories they've heard, all the hoops that they and their clients have had to jump through and all the beauracratic crap and screwed up policies of our government. When the rubber meets the road and realism sets in, it's hard to keep from getting cynical and to remain optimistic about one's ideals.

Here are the thoughts I had written 6 months ago about where I hoped to be headed:
"Of all the principles learned through the HNGR program, the one I believe was ingrained in me most was identification with the poor. It is one thing to have sympathy; it is another to have empathy. After living in a community of women largely surrounded by poverty, I came to see them as my sisters, and my friends. Their faces and their voices will always be in my memory banks, reminding me of who they are and the circumstances that they have been born into. I am very aware that I do not deserve the life that I was born into and that I could have been born into their life. Now, after living with them, a part of my life is wrapped up in their narrative. This is something that I will never be able to shake.

As consequence, with every new opportunity I am given, I will think of them, and other women in the world like them who will have no such opportunity and who have no choice. With every situation of employment, every chance and means to travel, to enjoy a day in the city, take a dance class or receive more education, I will always remember what it feels like to be in a community of women who knew that I came from a privileged background, who felt somewhat jealous at the life I had and they didn’t have, and (for the most part) accepted me into their community anyway. I will never forget the sting of hearing about the pain of being abandoned or sold by parents, knowing that mine were always there for me and that I could not become a parental figure for them. With every major choice I make, I will think of life at New Life Center, the life that I briefly shared in, and will always remember the call to identify with those that are considered least in our world.

Beyond identification, I want to remain committed to both keeping myself informed and spreading awareness about global poverty and issues caused by it (specially human-trafficking) and also things that are happening in global missions. I have become extra-sensitive to messages of a health and wealth gospel because I have seen that God identifies with the lowly and does not desire to give us comfortable or “successful” lives by the world’s standards. I have also become sensitive to the discourse on global missions within the church and how the “first world” views going to the 2/3rds world to spread the Gospel and engage in other endeavors. I cringe every time I hear about someone coming back from a missions trip to the two-thirds world and having an “awesome” time. Perhaps, post-HNGR, I have become somewhat cynical towards people going overseas and having "blessed" or "amazing" experiences doing ministry. I am sensitive to our evangelical eagerness to jump overseas to preach before we are eager to listen, before we even stop to realize that there are probably (percentage-wise) a lot more genuine Christians in the global south than in our own country, that maybe what the "poor people" need is not a group of well-intentioned, but somewhat uninformed Americans showing up with medical supplies, beanie babies and tracts, but people who want to come into relationship with them, agendas aside. I am committed to use my education in anthropology and HNGR to find ways to change the attitudes of paternalism (specifically in the church) that exists in the west towards the non-west.

I also have learned and seen that there is power in giving people a voice. The ability to have your voice heard is both an agent of healing and a source of power. Whether this is pursued politically, relationally or through therapy, there is dignity given when the privileged and powerful humble themselves enough to quiet down and give voice to the poor. If I can practice and be an influence to those around me to listen to voices of the 2/3rds world, I will consider that success. I pray that in five years, God will have given me the grace to pursue a lifestyle where I can, in His strength, be an agent for change and redemption in whatever capacity He calls me to serve."

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here. This is mostly just a reminder to myself to look at the big picture and to keep evaluating where my focus is in the light of where I want it to be.
There will be more to come on this...

A little irony

2006-11-04T17:09:00.000-05:00

Not so long ago, I scoffed at online blogs. Why would anyone want to put their thoughts just out there like that for anyone to read? Who does that?

And now, ironically enough, I now have one.

Perhaps this is an attempt to keep in some kind of contact with many far-flung friends since college graduation. One of the things I enjoyed most about college was the open dialogue that happened all the time, in its many formal and informal settings. Now, living at home and doing the commuter 9-5 lifestyle (although I leave around 7 and get back closer to 6), I don't have a whole lot of opportunities to do that in the same way. I miss regularly engaging people in debate, reflection and provacative discussion. (Somehow, I don't feel a strong pull to try to engage my fellow train commuters in anthropological dialogue or stir up theological debate in my very religiously diverse office.)

But also, this is an attempt to give everyone a glimpse into the work that I am getting to do this year and the stories of people seeking asylum in this country that I interact with. Aside from a few close friends here (and immediate family) whose ear I have a tendency to talk off from time to time with my ramblings about work (and they graciously put up with me), it's hard to answer the question "What's your job like?" for friends that I don't get to catch up with very often, and whose insight I miss. There's too much to say. This year, much like last year, is a year of broadening my horizons of what is going on in the world, tearing down preconceived notions and trying to figure out what to do with the pieces.

So here I am, in blogging cyberspace, putting my thoughts out there for anyone to read. Who does that?