Defining Courage

Being a Volunteer we are asked to write one blog entry that describes our experience so others (perspective volunteers, current and post volunteers can read it.)

www.osavol.org is the website it is posted on - as is a bunch of information regarding the AV program. If you click on blog on the right hand side you can read all of the other blogs as well as mine. (You can also read mine below...)

I took a few parts of this from previous blog entries I have already written (plagiarizing from myself how amusing) Read on ..


It’d be a safe bet to say that at least ¾ of the time I tell people that I am volunteering in the Bronx I get some rendition of “THE BRONX?!?! The Bronx is so scary with so many dangerous people!!!! ” And more often then not it is followed with - -“That’s so courageous…”

Me? Courageous? I’d say signing up I certainly had a desire to serve. A hunger for adventure, definitely. I was unquestionably in need of a break from writing term papers. You could even blame my flair for spontaneity. But courage is not a word I would use to describe how I got here, especially after meeting some of my favorite New York City residents. Janice, Angel and Johnny Five have become the ultimate definition of courage in its purest form.

Janice, a 21 year old resident of Siena House (the shelter where I work) provided me with my first definition of courage. She, unfortunately like so many others, does not have any family members who support her. Her baby’s father is in the picture when he feels like it and when we met she was about to go through her first labor and delivery alone. Typically in situations such as Janice’s, one of the Sisters who work at Siena will go to the hospital with the woman. However, this time, I was asked. I have never been so flattered and yet so incredibly scared in my entire life.

I honestly can not even explain how beautiful and yet how painfully vivid the entire experience was. I literally burst into tears the moment I saw baby Carly and heard her cry. That moment was so intense and so humbling. It really was the miracle of life. It was such a gratifying experience, one that I never expected to be a part of, and honestly could never have imagined, especially considering it happened within my first week on the job.

Janice is my definition of courage with just the clothes on her back, her newborn baby and the paperwork saying she is eligible to remain in the shelter system.

My second definition is reaffirmed every single morning on my walk to work as I am greeted with the familiar “Hello! Hello! Blue-yies!!” (an accidental fumbling of the words “blue eyes” which turned into our own inside joke). Angel, a middle aged homeless man brings me a smile and more often then not, a full belly laugh each and every morning. He is always asking me how I am doing, telling me over and over and over how much he likes my eyes, proposing to me, letting me pet his dog Queenie, or showing me his latest dance move.

He is a very educated former school teacher who is down on his luck. He doesn’t beg for food or money. Instead, Angel (appropriately named) brings smiles to many as he genuinely cares for others. He gets turned down from housing opportunities because he refuses to leave behind his beloved best friend Queenie. He has been asked to move out of friends’ houses because each time he moves in he also brings his entire entourage of homeless friends to the house because “If [he’s] got a place to stay, everyone else should too.”

Rain or shine, with his CD player in hand, mammoth head phones covering his ears, Queenie sleeping in a suitcase covered in a sleeping bag at his feet, a huge smile on his face, and the sweetest dance moves I’ve ever seen, Angel is my definition of courage.

Johnny Five, my third definition, exudes courage. He is a gentleman who has struggled with homelessness much of his adult life. In a city that glows, Johnny has called a dark cave under a roadway “home”. He has had his bout with drugs and alcohol and unfortunately, still slips into his old habits quite frequently. Although his lifestyle is one which I can’t even begin to imagine or understand, he has proven that he is one of the most sincere, to the point, wild, courageous individuals I have ever met.

His story is so hard to believe, as is his friendly demeanor and upbeat attitude considering his struggles. When he needs a little extra cash, he stops by the Thrift store (that I work at once a week) to do any medial task they have available. Our conversation day to day shifts between talking about how he has had to keep clean by using rubbing alcohol in place of a shower, to joking around about how Irish I am and how he should start calling me Miss Lucky Leprechaun and make me dance.

I am in awe of his spirit and his pure determination. He falters between wanting to have an apartment and design clothing and slipping back under the streets to the place he calls home. He has nothing. Literally nothing and yet he is so giving. Johnny Five is my definition of courage.

Through Janice, Angel and Johnny Five I have learned that oftentimes courage comes with great sacrifice. It is formed out of necessity; commitment; anguish and most importantly love

I now laugh when people call the Bronx “scary”. The hustle and bustle of the New York streets manage to lull me to sleep each night. The ‘anything goes’ attitude of the men catcalling me, proposing to me, nicknaming me ‘Mama’ or ‘Whitegirl’ has become more of a running joke than an annoyance. The transit lines that overwhelmed me initially have become routine, gracing me with independence. Even the greeting from the #11 bus driver who picks me up each morning has become familiar. This big city has become my home.

The individuals who reach for a free AmToday newspaper out of the little red box on Fordham Road are my peers. The line of faces that circles around the church on Wednesday mornings are the aged faces of children who used to run through the streets of my neighborhood, now waiting for a warm meal from the food pantry. The children singing “Our President’s a black man” in the school yard are our students. The crisp winter wind that chills my bones also chills the homeless men occupying the benches up the street. These unjustly judged, wrongly dubbed “dangerous people” are the familiar faces I see each day; making me feel more and more at home.

Although I appreciate that numerous family members and friends would still call what I’m doing courageous, I hesitate to define myself as that, rather I’d say I’m grateful….

I am truly grateful for the love and support of my family which has provided me with the opportunity to take this year of service; granting me access to parts of the world and people whom, although are so close in proximity, are worlds away in circumstance. I am also grateful for the openness, love and friendships that have evolved between my wonderful roommates - Katie, Kendra Andrea and I. I am even grateful for the challenges that I have been and will continue to be confronted with this year.

Most importantly I am thankful for Janice, Angel and Johnny Five for sharing their story with me, showering me with love and friendship and giving the word courage a whole new meaning.

Love, joy and peace during this Advent Season!

Meghan McKennan Bronx 2008-2009