The people of the Bronx have an unmatched flair for life. Their world is a captivating melody of sights, sounds and smells. Their struggles are masked by their infectious love for one another; a result of their deep faith. In the ten short months I have been a part of their neighborhood these individuals have taught me the simple, yet invaluable relationship between one’s choices and their faith.
Life as we all know is filled with choices.
The choice to help; the choice to hurt.
The choice to listen; the choice to ignore.
The choice to love; the choice to hate.
The choice to value; the choice to judge.
It is in the hardest of times, when all choices seem exhausted and help is out of reach, that I have learned the most about faith. The people of the Bronx, who I now consider family and friends, have taught me that sometimes exercising choice must first involve letting go and letting God.
Cindy, a resident of Siena House, has handed over the rights to all but one of her nine children. Although she desperately misses them every minute of every day, she knows that God has found hands that are able to help raise them until she returns to a more stable situation.
The choice to help.
Margaret, an elderly woman in our community, has begun to acknowledge that there will come a time that she must let go of this life and let God bring her home. Margaret stays focused on listening to God’s plan, which has allowed her to continue living every minute of her life on earth to the fullest.
The choice to listen.
Rico, my best friend on the block, made the choice to put down his fists and silently endure the impact of brutality as fifteen others jumped him for standing up for what was right. Rico’s face is laced with stitches, but his trust in God has allowed him to continue loving those who have wronged him.
The choice to love.
Instead of being paralyzed by their lack of good alternatives, the homeless women of Siena House let go and let God on a daily basis. Constantly faced with making the decision between two unappealing options the women turn to God for strength, courage and faith. They choose single parenting over an unstable partner, colossal debt over dependency on an abuser, attempting to live off minimum wage instead of selling their bodies, a court date over living with domestic violence. They find value in the lessons God teaches them, however taxing those lessons may seem.
The choice to value.
I have learned through Cindy, Margaret, Rico and my Siena ladies that when we make the choice to call on faith, God showers us with love. It is He who helps us through our heartache and uncertainties, listens to our joys and sorrows. My friends have taught me to place value on each choice I make. Through them my faith has been strengthened and I have begun to better understand how to let go and let God.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Fashionably late
So whoops, I took a three month sabbatical from writing on my blog…. I thought about updating it, in fact I went as far as to log in (numerous times) and then I got distracted changing my background and font colors, yet the words never made it from my brain to the page… countless apologies.
I have put Dec. and Jan up, Feb and March will make their way here fashionably late obviously.
I have put Dec. and Jan up, Feb and March will make their way here fashionably late obviously.
NYE IN NYC 2009
And this one should have been posted in Jan....
NEW YEARS EVE IN TIMES SQUARE IS THE MOST RIDICULOUS, OUTRAGEOUS, ENTERTAINGING, WILD, FREEZING COLD, HILARIOUS THING I HAVE EVER DONE.
Colin (my brother) and our friends Liza, Laurel and Matt and I drove down from Vermont the night before new years eve. Our voyage was fairly typical: music, Doritos, back seat dance parties and hilarious comments made by Matt.
Colin (my brother) and our friends Liza, Laurel and Matt and I drove down from Vermont the night before new years eve. Our voyage was fairly typical: music, Doritos, back seat dance parties and hilarious comments made by Matt.
Liza, Myself, Laurel: trying to entertain ourselves on the treck down to NYC
As we were about an hour outside of the Bronx I told Matt, who is one of the funniest borderline inappropriate guys I know, that although I love the Bronx and I feel very safe there, I try to attract the least amount of attention to myself…I.E. watch what you say and do, we already stick out because we are a large group of white kids.
No sooner did he agree when our car literally stopped working..
- no lights
- no power
- no steering
We coasted onto the “side” of the road and by side I mean half way still in a lane and naturally I began freaking out. Keep in mind it was about 9pm and pitch dark outside, cars could not see us until they literally were ON TOP of our car…
“AHHHHH THE TRUCKS ARE GOING TO HIT US!” “OH MY GOD WHAT IS GOING ON” “WHAT THE @#%@(*#& DO WE DO?!?”
Obviously at this point in time Liza and Laurel are fearing for their lives as 18 wheeler trucks are rapidly approaching us and Colin and Matt are laughing and taking pictures instead of finding flairs…. I finally get a hold of the ever popular New York City 911 who after trying to convince me that police did not in fact need to come help us finally gave up and reassured me police assistance is on their way. (For the record they conveniently never showed up)
We finally got a hold of some random AAA man, Peter, who after a lot of typical eyelash batting, pleading and pouting agreed to give us a ride back to my apartment (25 minutes away) before towing the car to a local shop. His only stipulation: “da ladies ride up front in da cab wit him…wink wink”. Predictable man...
Liza, Laurel and I sitting in Perv Pete's cab waiting for his fateful return ahhh
After agreeing to his conditions I realized Colin and Matt didn’t have seats and there was no way the two of them were going to squeeze into the already awkwardly tight cab. AAA man, or Perv Pete as I fondly refer to him told them to hop in our car and the next thing I knew I looked behind me and they were getting pulled up onto the bed of the tow truck and off we went.
Colin and Matt getting towed up the back of the tow truck, one of the most annoying, yet outrageously hilarious events ever
I don’t think I took an actual breath the entire ride home, I was between praying that the car would not fall off the Tappan Zee bridge and kill the boys, yelling at Pervy Pete to slow down, and reassuring my mother that things were totally fine.
As we pulled onto Andrews Ave with our lights flashing, the boys bouncing around in the car taking pictures, every single one of my neighbors seemed to be outside watching us. The brilliant Matt leaned over and direct quote “Hey Meghan, we don’t wanna call attention to ourselves right?” I died, I literally was mortified.
Long story short, Pete found us a station opened late, they changed our battery and life was good.
The next morning we ventured down to Times Square
Colin, Matt, Laurel, Liza and I infront of where the ball drops 
As you can see... we were there 8 hours and 42 minutes before the ball officially dropped.
This is the exact time we got to Times Square, only 8hours and 42 seconds of waiting!Although it was the coldest, most bone chilling, and longest 9 hours of my life I have never had so much fun. We were lucky enough to get into this gated off area right in front of ABC studios so we had a prime viewing area.
The 2009 New Years Ball 
We packed “dinner” PB & J sammies (pictured below), crackers, granola bars etc. to snack on and just laughed and danced the night away. 
Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin Eve hosted by stupid Ryan Seacrest who I can’t stand played some decent music.
We began talking to everyone around us and met a group of wonderful 20 somethings from PA. One of them, who was the sweetest guy I have ever met was talking about how he had a list of 35 things to do before turning 35 and New Years Eve in NYC was one of them, inspirational.
Somehow and I really honest to God have no idea how, we made it to the front of the crowd holding on to the barricade they had set in place. Now, I’ll try to be modest but I swear weird/interesting things always seem to seek me out… I was standing singing and dancing with the rest of the crowd when some camera guy came up and asked me if I wanted to be interviewed. OBVIOUSLY I said yes – he said we had to come up with an answer to the question: “what is a new years resolution you made knowing you are going to BREAK IT” some suggested I say biting my nails and someone suggested I say passing gas in public and then look at the large crowd – I vetoed both ideas!
Eventually Kelly Pickler some platinum blonde American Idol came over asked me the question and out of my mouth came the random answer “I’ll stop poking people on facebook” – which we all know I will never do. After my 5 seconds of fame and her awkwardly poking me with her finger shouting poke poke poke I went back to dancing. I checked my phone and I literally received 92 text messages saying people had seen me. Among them were two from my mom “ MEG I SAW YOU!!!” and then followed by that “PUT YOUR GLOVES ON!” woman never stops being my mom no matter how old I am J
59, 58, 57... And then 10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…
HAPPPPPPPPPY NEEEEEEWWWWW YEAAAAAAAR 2009, immense amounts of confetti, balloons, champagne and legit kisses from EVERYONE AROUND US!
The aftermath...
New Years Eve in NYC is something I have always wanted to do and I was lucky enough to participate with my friends and my brother, have an apartment to stay in and a glorious camera to capture it all!
On a scale of 1-10 this night was like a 50!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
He who has not found Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree
So this should have been posted in December...
I was lucky enough to have four Christmas celebrations: One with my community, one with the Priests next door, one at home in Vermont and one at Siena House.
Christmas next door with the priests was short and very sweet – we had a delicious dinner all together with fancy china, candles and beautiful music. We helped them decorate their (real) Christmas tree… I got ‘yelled’ at for breaking a glass ball, but Father Joe assured me that breaking a decoration was obviously a sign of good luck. His sarcastic nature leads me to believe he was harassing me, but ill take it for what it was worth. Although our Christmas celebration with the Priests was short it was wonderful to sit in company with them. Talking about their memories of childhood Christmas traditions and fond experiences. We cut out 30 snowflakes out of white paper both large and small and hung them around their dining room as a surprise from Jack Frost. The men literally could not stop talking about how crafty, creative and mostly thoughtful the simple act was. We did it to spice up their lives, through a little womanly touch into their community of all males; they saw it as a miracle. The snowflakes are still hanging to date (middle of March) and they constantly refer to their beauty, simplicity and how thoughtful we were, meanwhile we were being silly bored girls cutting shapes out of paper. Its sweet to see how such a small gesture can go such a long long way.
Christmas in our community was held the very last night in the Bronx before we all flew to our respective home states. We had a miniature fake Christmas tree in our hallway closet that we decorated with small glass bulbs. Katie took wrapping paper and wrapped the pictures that we have hanging in our communal spaces – Kendra and Andrea hung Christmas lights throughout the front room and I cut an Angel out of paper for the top of our tree (she was African American and quite beautiful if I do say so myself). We all made and hung Christmas stockings in the kitchen and we cut out hundreds of snowflakes out of white paper and hung them from the ceiling.
“Christmas Eve” we sat around our teeny little Christmas tree and exchanged gifts, nothing big, nothing expensive, mostly enjoying the presence of each other. We braved the snowy unplowed roads and took each other out to dinner. I have always had wonderful friends, and we have each had wonderful traditions, but sitting beneath our silly Christmas tree throwing nerf balls at each oher (Andreas gift to the community to encourage us to play more) I really realized how blessed I am to have these girls and this community.
Christmas in Vermont was magnificent as always! It was filled with love and joy and family and snow, the four things I wanted. Colin was back from Montana and we spent time just hanging out. Its great to be at an age where we can be not only siblings but friends. We spent Christmas Eve night at Evans house (our 10 year old cousin). We went to church as a family and I really finally found its significance in my life. The church community was so welcoming and so loving, extending a hand in friendship, a hug in homecoming and love for all. I felt at peace knowing that although I love my job in the Bronx and I love my roommates, I have a wonderful support network back home. We went back to Evans house to prepare for Santa’s arrival- set out cookies, milk, and candy canes for him and carrots and a large bucket of water on the front steps for the reindeer.
We were awakened very early to open our stockings and marvel at the gifts that Santa had left, as well as the chewed up carrots and empty bucket from the reindeer. The rest of our day was relaxed and we really just took time to enjoy the company of family. The best gift I received with Tim agreeing to officially adopt me. It’s a simple procedure considering im 23 years old, but it is something I have wanted and a role he has played for a long time. I am honored to call him Dad and to be a part of his family <3>
I was lucky enough to have four Christmas celebrations: One with my community, one with the Priests next door, one at home in Vermont and one at Siena House.
Christmas next door with the priests was short and very sweet – we had a delicious dinner all together with fancy china, candles and beautiful music. We helped them decorate their (real) Christmas tree… I got ‘yelled’ at for breaking a glass ball, but Father Joe assured me that breaking a decoration was obviously a sign of good luck. His sarcastic nature leads me to believe he was harassing me, but ill take it for what it was worth. Although our Christmas celebration with the Priests was short it was wonderful to sit in company with them. Talking about their memories of childhood Christmas traditions and fond experiences. We cut out 30 snowflakes out of white paper both large and small and hung them around their dining room as a surprise from Jack Frost. The men literally could not stop talking about how crafty, creative and mostly thoughtful the simple act was. We did it to spice up their lives, through a little womanly touch into their community of all males; they saw it as a miracle. The snowflakes are still hanging to date (middle of March) and they constantly refer to their beauty, simplicity and how thoughtful we were, meanwhile we were being silly bored girls cutting shapes out of paper. Its sweet to see how such a small gesture can go such a long long way.
Christmas in our community was held the very last night in the Bronx before we all flew to our respective home states. We had a miniature fake Christmas tree in our hallway closet that we decorated with small glass bulbs. Katie took wrapping paper and wrapped the pictures that we have hanging in our communal spaces – Kendra and Andrea hung Christmas lights throughout the front room and I cut an Angel out of paper for the top of our tree (she was African American and quite beautiful if I do say so myself). We all made and hung Christmas stockings in the kitchen and we cut out hundreds of snowflakes out of white paper and hung them from the ceiling.
“Christmas Eve” we sat around our teeny little Christmas tree and exchanged gifts, nothing big, nothing expensive, mostly enjoying the presence of each other. We braved the snowy unplowed roads and took each other out to dinner. I have always had wonderful friends, and we have each had wonderful traditions, but sitting beneath our silly Christmas tree throwing nerf balls at each oher (Andreas gift to the community to encourage us to play more) I really realized how blessed I am to have these girls and this community.
Christmas in Vermont was magnificent as always! It was filled with love and joy and family and snow, the four things I wanted. Colin was back from Montana and we spent time just hanging out. Its great to be at an age where we can be not only siblings but friends. We spent Christmas Eve night at Evans house (our 10 year old cousin). We went to church as a family and I really finally found its significance in my life. The church community was so welcoming and so loving, extending a hand in friendship, a hug in homecoming and love for all. I felt at peace knowing that although I love my job in the Bronx and I love my roommates, I have a wonderful support network back home. We went back to Evans house to prepare for Santa’s arrival- set out cookies, milk, and candy canes for him and carrots and a large bucket of water on the front steps for the reindeer.
We were awakened very early to open our stockings and marvel at the gifts that Santa had left, as well as the chewed up carrots and empty bucket from the reindeer. The rest of our day was relaxed and we really just took time to enjoy the company of family. The best gift I received with Tim agreeing to officially adopt me. It’s a simple procedure considering im 23 years old, but it is something I have wanted and a role he has played for a long time. I am honored to call him Dad and to be a part of his family <3>
The tags I made for each of the Christmas bags, if nothing else this year I have learned I have a talent for working with construction paper and glue sticks :)
The Lounge where we sorted all the gifts for each mother and child...
I have never felt so good about watching individuals open Christmas presents, the generosity of the individuals giving gifts was inspiring. They got everything from umbrellas, slippers, robes, $50 cash, jewelry, make-up, body spray, clothing, hats, mittens, scarves, and I cant even being to explain the children’s toys – books, games, light up thingy’s, puzzles, stuffed animals, noise makers, sing song battery operated wildly loud gidgets and gadgets.
Yes the women were blessed with gifts and yes materially speaking the overabundance of gifts was so impressive, but I learned so much more than the warm feeling of giving a gift. One of the newer women looked at me, tears in her eyes and said "I feel loved, I have found the meaning of Christmas and I found it in your heart." In the middle of me telling her that we all worked hard on giving them each gifts we knew they would appreciate and like she stopped me and said... "the best gift I got this year was love"
He who has not found Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree...
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
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
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
Sunday, November 30, 2008
A Thanksgiving Hero
Thanksgiving. Where to begin? This was the first year for many things; first year that I did not celebrate Thanksgiving in Vermont. First year that I cooked 99% of the meal. First year that I had 5, yes count them FIVE Thanksgiving dinners (leftover meals not included) in a weeks span of time.
I found many similarities, as well as differences at each one of my meals especially in comparison to the traditional meal I have had in Vermont for the past 22 years.
Thanksgiving # 1 – Celebrated at Siena House at lunchtime. It was a privilege for me to be in the company and share a meal of thanks with a large majority of the mothers, children and staff personnel at Siena. Although we all know they were thankful for the delicious meal that the two chefs prepared, the women kept talking about all they are thankful in their lives; something that really struck me. These women who have literally nothing but the clothes on their backs, their screaming babies in carriers next to them (or in their bellies), aggressive or selfish baby daddies, and absolute disregard from their families - despite all of the negatives in their lives, they were each very thankful. They were thankful for, direct quotes – their minds – their hands – their health – the health of their baby – their babies laugh and love – the support of the Siena House workers – God – their courage. I ate my meal silently observing how authentic and genuine each of their statements were.
I have never felt as blessed as I did when one of them at another table made the announcement that they were grateful for me. ME? I know that they appreciate what I do – helping them with resumes, playing with their babies, letting them sneak onto Myspace to catch up with family and friends for a few minutes, but I never realized that my job was making such a difference… She said, “You give us guidance, encourage us to believe in ourselves, you trust us and we can trust you, our babies love you, we love you. You are here to help us, but you are our friend” I was astonished.
Thanksgiving #2 – Celebrated at Siena House Dinnertime with the women who could not attend the Lunchtime meal. It was equally as special being with the Moms and the babies. Watching the children try the food for the first time and having the women explain to me the traditional “black” dishes that were being served or what they had when they were growing up during Thanksgiving. (Macaroni and cheese, deep-fried turkey, okra and cornbread) I told them about the traditions that I grew up with at which most of them gave me a disgusted look – squash, green bean casserole, strawberry-rhubarb pie. <3
Thanksgiving #3 – Delaware at my Aunt Cindy’s with my Uncle Mike, Uncle Jack, and Cousins Lisa and Ben. The weekend before the actual Thanksgiving I took a bus from NYC to Wilmington DE where my Aunt and Cousin picked me up. It was phenomenal spending time at their house, relaxing, laughing, telling family stories and helping bake family recipes. My Uncle Jack and Lisa from Virginia came up to join us which made it really feel like a Thanksgiving at home with the fam. Ben and I laughed as we screwed up making crust for the pie, Cindy showed me around her work, Lisa and I cuddled and giggled about boys. I got to sleep in, spend some quality time remembering my Grandfather who passed away a little under a year ago and just escape from the New York City commotion for a few days.
Thanksgiving #4 – We shared in a Pre-Thanksgiving meal with the priests next door. Eating dinner with them each Monday is a tradition I have come to love. The food is always delicious, our conversation is enjoyable if not hilarious and the peace of mind that comes with knowing we are part of a larger community is incomparable.
Thanksgiving #5—When the actual Thanksgiving arrived we had some of the most elaborate plans I have ever been a part of. Katie and I started the festivities by heading to Central Park West where we joined a huge crowd of spectators being funneled through the streets making our way towards where the Macy's day floats were being blown up. It was an experience like nothing I have ever done before. The floats which average around 70 feet long are stretched down a city block, tied down with nets and sand bags and inflated. The crowd of spectators was IMPRESSIVE to say the least. We were literally being shuffled through streets around corners and towards floats. Although it was a little too many people for my liking, I really did have an amazing time seeing the floats up close and in person.
Our actual Thanksgiving consisted of 16 guests. 4 volunteers from the Lawrence community, Andreas friends Mary, Nelnan, and Evelyn and her brother Eric. Kendra’s friend Cotter, two friends of Agustin (a member of the Lawrence community) and Margaret a neighbor of ours who is in her 80s. We used the rectory next door because the Priests all went to visit family or friends, which made life easy. They have a huge kitchen, two ovens, a large table, beautiful china, linens and candles that we used and most importantly space. There was space for everyone to help prepare their favorite family dishes, space to set up appetizers, space to mingle with friends old and new, and space to get away and reflect a little.
For being my first official Thanksgiving away from home, away from family, prepared ourselves I was overjoyed at how well everything turned out, and how truly special the meal was. Everyone had a hand in baking, making, or preparing the items on the menu. Most of us called either our Moms or Nana’s (cough cough several times cough) to get their expert advice. As we sat down to eat we all shared what we were thankful for. This is a tradition that numerous members around the table had done with their own families, but this year it seemed to hold more weight. People were honest. Deep. And truly grateful.
I was and still 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 thankful for the openness, love and friendships that have evolved between my roommates and I, and I am even thankful for the challenges that I have been and will continue to be confronted with this year. Most importantly, this Thanksgiving I was thankful for Margaret being a part of our meal.
As ideal as the past two weeks have been (both visiting family in Delaware and successfully hosting a huge Thanksgiving feast) – the Sunday following Thanksgiving also marked the one year anniversary of my Grandfather passing away. Through Margaret’s presence at our Thanksgiving table I gained an even deeper appreciation for the meaning behind living in community.
As I explained to my roommates, my biological father has always been just that, biological – but my Grampy has taken on a lot of the tasks of fatherhood all of my life. (as has Tim who will get his shout out on Fathers day!) Through their love and dedication to each other in their 60 years of marriage, my Grandpa and my Nana taught me the meaning of true love, friendship, and most importantly the importance of family. I knew spending Thanksgiving without my Grampy and my family would be difficult, but I could have never imagined the significance of Margaret.
It’s funny how your heart breaks when your hero is gone, which after loosing my Grampy I couldn’t agree with more. However, I would like to add a clause to that statement because although my heart was breaking over the loss of my hero, my Grampy, it was also swelling with the joy of knowing Margaret a woman who lives on her own, is unable to do most things herself due to a bad hip, and who has no family or friends near by enjoyed herself. At the end of the meal Margaret looked at me and said “this is the best tasting meal I have had in 30 years, since my Mom died. You are some of the sweetest, most generous individuals I have ever met.” I literally began to cry! The impact we had on her was visible, but her impact on me, at just the right time is something that I will never forget.
Margaret has since called me – once to let me know she made it home safely, twice to thank me (I also got a thank you card in the mail), we met each other at Saturday 5pm Mass, and I am hopefully going to make my way across the street to visit with her at least once a week or so. She is a wonderful woman who is looking for companionship, and I am someone who has benefited from having such a strong and loving connection with my own Grandparents that I think we can both learn from each other. Not to mention that her initials are M.E.G, how appropriate!
I know that during this weekend in all of its success, I missed my family, I missed my Grampy, but I also know that I learned that heroes come in all shapes and sizes and I do think it’s true
that sometimes people come into your life at just the perfect time
I found many similarities, as well as differences at each one of my meals especially in comparison to the traditional meal I have had in Vermont for the past 22 years.
Thanksgiving # 1 – Celebrated at Siena House at lunchtime. It was a privilege for me to be in the company and share a meal of thanks with a large majority of the mothers, children and staff personnel at Siena. Although we all know they were thankful for the delicious meal that the two chefs prepared, the women kept talking about all they are thankful in their lives; something that really struck me. These women who have literally nothing but the clothes on their backs, their screaming babies in carriers next to them (or in their bellies), aggressive or selfish baby daddies, and absolute disregard from their families - despite all of the negatives in their lives, they were each very thankful. They were thankful for, direct quotes – their minds – their hands – their health – the health of their baby – their babies laugh and love – the support of the Siena House workers – God – their courage. I ate my meal silently observing how authentic and genuine each of their statements were.
I have never felt as blessed as I did when one of them at another table made the announcement that they were grateful for me. ME? I know that they appreciate what I do – helping them with resumes, playing with their babies, letting them sneak onto Myspace to catch up with family and friends for a few minutes, but I never realized that my job was making such a difference… She said, “You give us guidance, encourage us to believe in ourselves, you trust us and we can trust you, our babies love you, we love you. You are here to help us, but you are our friend” I was astonished.
Thanksgiving #2 – Celebrated at Siena House Dinnertime with the women who could not attend the Lunchtime meal. It was equally as special being with the Moms and the babies. Watching the children try the food for the first time and having the women explain to me the traditional “black” dishes that were being served or what they had when they were growing up during Thanksgiving. (Macaroni and cheese, deep-fried turkey, okra and cornbread) I told them about the traditions that I grew up with at which most of them gave me a disgusted look – squash, green bean casserole, strawberry-rhubarb pie. <3
Thanksgiving #3 – Delaware at my Aunt Cindy’s with my Uncle Mike, Uncle Jack, and Cousins Lisa and Ben. The weekend before the actual Thanksgiving I took a bus from NYC to Wilmington DE where my Aunt and Cousin picked me up. It was phenomenal spending time at their house, relaxing, laughing, telling family stories and helping bake family recipes. My Uncle Jack and Lisa from Virginia came up to join us which made it really feel like a Thanksgiving at home with the fam. Ben and I laughed as we screwed up making crust for the pie, Cindy showed me around her work, Lisa and I cuddled and giggled about boys. I got to sleep in, spend some quality time remembering my Grandfather who passed away a little under a year ago and just escape from the New York City commotion for a few days.
Thanksgiving #4 – We shared in a Pre-Thanksgiving meal with the priests next door. Eating dinner with them each Monday is a tradition I have come to love. The food is always delicious, our conversation is enjoyable if not hilarious and the peace of mind that comes with knowing we are part of a larger community is incomparable.
Thanksgiving #5—When the actual Thanksgiving arrived we had some of the most elaborate plans I have ever been a part of. Katie and I started the festivities by heading to Central Park West where we joined a huge crowd of spectators being funneled through the streets making our way towards where the Macy's day floats were being blown up. It was an experience like nothing I have ever done before. The floats which average around 70 feet long are stretched down a city block, tied down with nets and sand bags and inflated. The crowd of spectators was IMPRESSIVE to say the least. We were literally being shuffled through streets around corners and towards floats. Although it was a little too many people for my liking, I really did have an amazing time seeing the floats up close and in person.
Our actual Thanksgiving consisted of 16 guests. 4 volunteers from the Lawrence community, Andreas friends Mary, Nelnan, and Evelyn and her brother Eric. Kendra’s friend Cotter, two friends of Agustin (a member of the Lawrence community) and Margaret a neighbor of ours who is in her 80s. We used the rectory next door because the Priests all went to visit family or friends, which made life easy. They have a huge kitchen, two ovens, a large table, beautiful china, linens and candles that we used and most importantly space. There was space for everyone to help prepare their favorite family dishes, space to set up appetizers, space to mingle with friends old and new, and space to get away and reflect a little.
For being my first official Thanksgiving away from home, away from family, prepared ourselves I was overjoyed at how well everything turned out, and how truly special the meal was. Everyone had a hand in baking, making, or preparing the items on the menu. Most of us called either our Moms or Nana’s (cough cough several times cough) to get their expert advice. As we sat down to eat we all shared what we were thankful for. This is a tradition that numerous members around the table had done with their own families, but this year it seemed to hold more weight. People were honest. Deep. And truly grateful.
I was and still 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 thankful for the openness, love and friendships that have evolved between my roommates and I, and I am even thankful for the challenges that I have been and will continue to be confronted with this year. Most importantly, this Thanksgiving I was thankful for Margaret being a part of our meal.
As ideal as the past two weeks have been (both visiting family in Delaware and successfully hosting a huge Thanksgiving feast) – the Sunday following Thanksgiving also marked the one year anniversary of my Grandfather passing away. Through Margaret’s presence at our Thanksgiving table I gained an even deeper appreciation for the meaning behind living in community.
As I explained to my roommates, my biological father has always been just that, biological – but my Grampy has taken on a lot of the tasks of fatherhood all of my life. (as has Tim who will get his shout out on Fathers day!) Through their love and dedication to each other in their 60 years of marriage, my Grandpa and my Nana taught me the meaning of true love, friendship, and most importantly the importance of family. I knew spending Thanksgiving without my Grampy and my family would be difficult, but I could have never imagined the significance of Margaret.
It’s funny how your heart breaks when your hero is gone, which after loosing my Grampy I couldn’t agree with more. However, I would like to add a clause to that statement because although my heart was breaking over the loss of my hero, my Grampy, it was also swelling with the joy of knowing Margaret a woman who lives on her own, is unable to do most things herself due to a bad hip, and who has no family or friends near by enjoyed herself. At the end of the meal Margaret looked at me and said “this is the best tasting meal I have had in 30 years, since my Mom died. You are some of the sweetest, most generous individuals I have ever met.” I literally began to cry! The impact we had on her was visible, but her impact on me, at just the right time is something that I will never forget.
Margaret has since called me – once to let me know she made it home safely, twice to thank me (I also got a thank you card in the mail), we met each other at Saturday 5pm Mass, and I am hopefully going to make my way across the street to visit with her at least once a week or so. She is a wonderful woman who is looking for companionship, and I am someone who has benefited from having such a strong and loving connection with my own Grandparents that I think we can both learn from each other. Not to mention that her initials are M.E.G, how appropriate!
I know that during this weekend in all of its success, I missed my family, I missed my Grampy, but I also know that I learned that heroes come in all shapes and sizes and I do think it’s true
that sometimes people come into your life at just the perfect time
Friday, November 14, 2008
The new pad
I was asked to include pictures of the house that got renovated...
Here's their new bedroom
And one of their bathroom...
Quite an exciting, and necessary change huh?
Here's their new bedroom
And one of their bathroom...
Quite an exciting, and necessary change huh?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Down the shore
This weekend I went down the Jersey shore with my co-workers, my roommates, and Katie and Lauren two volunteers from the Bronx community last year.
Relaxation.
Relaxation.
Rejuvenation.
Rest.
also, the website for the program I am doing is up - check it out. You can click on the faces in the picture both domestic and international to read a bio on the volunteers or read through the tabs to learn more about the program.
http://www.osavol.org/
Thursday, November 6, 2008
bX marks the spot
Halloween costumes have faded into memories; Macy's Thanksgiving parade rapidly approaching; Christmas decorations adorn the store fronts; and already two and a half months of my volunteer year are behind me. The brevity of this year hits me each time I sit down to update this.
I think each of my roommates can attest to the realization that the novelty of being a tourist in New York has begun to wear off. The hustle and bustle of the streets is a nice distraction from the chilly weather. The noise of ambulances and fire trucks have become common place, as has the constant car horns of taxis. The ‘anything goes’ attitude of the men catcalling me has become more of a running joke then an annoyance. Driving to the grocery store once a week has transitioned into an obstacle course. The transit lines that used to overwhelm me have become routine, gracing me with Independence. Even the greeting from the #11 bus driver who picks me up each morning has become a familiar routine. This wild crazy city is our home.
The individuals who reach for a free amtoday newspaper out of the little red box on Fordham Road on are our peers. The line of faces that circles around the church on Wednesday mornings waiting for a warm meal from the food pantry is full are the aged faces of the children who used to run through the streets of our neighborhood; individuals who are just down on a little luck. We each felt the pain our neighbors felt when the news came in yesterday that a street away from our home a 13-hour standoff occurred as a man stood on a ledge outside his apartment - threatening to jump because he had stabbed his girlfriend to death. The children shouting OBAMA in the school yard are our students. That crisp fall wind that chills our bones also chills the homeless men occupying the benches up the street - Angel, Rios and Julian. This wild crazy city is our home.
Despite all that I have become familiar with, gotten accustom to, and experienced I still find myself encountering situations I have never dreamed of. Two weeks ago I had the privilege of joining my boss and a few other individuals from the local community in celebrating a welcome home party for a mother and daughter.
Mother and daughter had lived in the same apartment for the last 40 years, receiving state aid due to mental illness. It was the responsibility of Adult Protective Services to make sure the landlord was maintaining suitable living conditions for the women; something they failed to do.
Before Sister Lauria, a woman I work with came in contact with the women who are incapable of taking care of themselves on their own living in an apartment overcome with neglect. The smell seeping from under their front door was nauseating; the bathroom and kitchen – unusable do to neglect. The conditions inhumane; the women forgotten about by a system set in place to better their lives. The landlord, a scumbag who had fallen prey to the perks he could gain with gentrification purposely let the apartment fall to pieces to try and persuade the women to move out so he could fix the place up and rent it to individuals for more money. The conditions he enabled them to live in were criminal.
The day I went to the newly renovated and beautifully furnished apartment marked the 100th day the pair had been out of their home. After Sister Lauria and a few other individuals fought long and hard for the rights of the women insisting that their apartment was in need of essential renovations, APS had no other option then agreeing. They placed the Mother and daughter in a local hospital as temporary housing, conveniently using taxpayer’s funds to cover the cost of the 100 day stay.
The homecoming party was one of the most moving experiences I have ever taken part in. The two women were greeted with a new, safe, clean and beautiful home as well as furnishings, a delicious meal and were surrounded by individuals who cared for them. Some of their neighbors were present, as were their new case manager and home aide. The senator and representatives from local government offices, as well as the local news station were among the well wishers. ( I had a lil debut on the channel 12 news, waiting for some agents to call me…)
Pictured Sister Lauria, One of the neighbors who helped the women, the mother, the senator and the daughter.
When the women walked into their new home their eyes, and everyone else’s in the room welled up with tears. The whole afternoon that we were there they couldn’t stop thanking and praising the efforts of Sister Lauria. Every time I looked at them their eyes were glazed over and they were staring from room to room, hardwood floor to ceiling in awe of the generosity and love that they had been shown. It made me realize how acutely aware we as a culture are to the needs of those in our own neighborhoods. If you saw the apartment before it was renovated you probably would have thought that the women were slobs, judging unjustly their inabilities and true need for assistance.
I had goose bumps the whole afternoon, and left feeling like I had witnessed one of those purist acts of generosity that are rarely seen these days.
Halloween was the next big eye opening experience here. Memories of Halloween as a child include my Mother making my costume (always amazingly creative), rushing through dinner so we could get an early start on the night and then running throughout our neighborhood visiting each house to receive a piece of candy, only after taking a picture with the family, all of whom were family friends. Here all schools are let out early 1:00 or 1:30 so kids could go trick-or-treating before the sun set, before it got too dangerous.
Apparently October 31st is the day the gang the Blood’s have initiation. Apparently 31 white women are their intended targets – slashing their faces with knifes. Now now now, I’m sure if you are reading this you are scared for my life, and my face (nana!) but don’t you worry, my roommates and I opted for a safe little Halloween. Instead of attending the local Halloween parade in the Village we went to Kim’s house to watch friends, eat Chinese food and play board games.
Before we went over to Kims – Katie and I sat on our stoop and handed out candy to the little kids. Ironically enough, although there are millions of little kids running throughout the streets looking for candy – apartment buildings such as our own are not places they trick-or-treat. The stores lining Fordham Road are mobbed because they are the only places that hand out candy. Katie and I, dressed in black dress pants and a black pea coat and a black dress with a beaded orange belt and an orange bow as a hair tie respectively looked like the whitest, creepiest, out of place girls ever. We literally had to lure the children over, waving candy and saying uhh are you trick-or-treating. Once they (mostly their parents) realized our intentions were good they were appreciative, but it took a few moments and a couple of dirty questioning looks.
When we ran out of candy we walked up to the local Rite Aid to buy more and could not get through the doors it was so packed with children
The Thursday before Halloween I hosted a Halloween party at Siena House, where I work. My four roommates offered to come help run games, set up food and take pictures. The party was a HUGE SUCCESS. Every women that was signed into the house was downstairs at the party instead of sitting in their bedrooms. The next day my boss, staff members and the women could not stop talking about how much they and the babies loved it – how there was no drama – no fights – how everything was perfect and how it was the most successful party they have ever had. Some days at work I feel like I could be doing more – persuading the women to fix their resumes, or get a job or look into housing. Helping to council them on their problems within and outside the confines of Siena walls, but on that Friday morning I felt wonderful knowing that I had provided a safe, exciting and fun environment for the women to interact with each other and their babies. A Christmas party is already in the works :)
The women and babies playing Halloween bingo that I created, probably the most successful part of the party!
my lil cuties all dressed up!
This past week has been just as extreme – a trip with my roommates and 15 women from Siena House to Madison Square Garden to see Cirque De Soelil’s “Wintuk” performance (also a huge hit), a visit to Fordham Law School to listen to a lecture given by a Boston College professor on "The just and the good". One of the priests from next door invited all of us, but Katie and I were the only ones able to go. The talk was really interesting, it discussed the relation of constitutional law with topics such as abortion, marriage, casual sex, physician assisted suicide, and advertising. After the talk Fr.Bill took us out to dinner and to walk around Lincoln center. We ended up walking all over the city seeing many tourist hot spots, finally ending at Rockefeller Center location of the Christmas tree and the skating rink.
The conclusion of this week has been historical with Obama’s win. I can honestly say that there is no other place I would have wanted to be when the numbers came in. Our street erupted with applause, cheers, crying, whooping, fireworks, and dancing. And in true Bronx fashion, blasting the song “Our president is a black man” will the bass turned up as loud as possible. The next day on my way to work people were making eye contact with one another and nodding their heads. A common gesture in some areas of our country is something that is a rarity around these parts. I could feel the excitement, passion, and satisfaction emanating from those I passed. It was a very humbling 24 hour period.
All in all everything is going marvelously - I still love my roomies and our silly evenings together after a long day at work (note: bowling down our hallway turned into handstand land I had nooooothing to do with initiating that one hehe) I have gotten to see Kim a daybreak friend almost every weekend, and also Brian my best guy friend from High school lives in Manhattan so I see him as often as possible. This weekend we are heading to Atlantic City with the roomies and two of the Bronx girls from last year’s community. Here’s to enjoying each day I have left here and booking my flight home for Christmas (dec 20th!!)
I think each of my roommates can attest to the realization that the novelty of being a tourist in New York has begun to wear off. The hustle and bustle of the streets is a nice distraction from the chilly weather. The noise of ambulances and fire trucks have become common place, as has the constant car horns of taxis. The ‘anything goes’ attitude of the men catcalling me has become more of a running joke then an annoyance. Driving to the grocery store once a week has transitioned into an obstacle course. The transit lines that used to overwhelm me have become routine, gracing me with Independence. Even the greeting from the #11 bus driver who picks me up each morning has become a familiar routine. This wild crazy city is our home.
The individuals who reach for a free amtoday newspaper out of the little red box on Fordham Road on are our peers. The line of faces that circles around the church on Wednesday mornings waiting for a warm meal from the food pantry is full are the aged faces of the children who used to run through the streets of our neighborhood; individuals who are just down on a little luck. We each felt the pain our neighbors felt when the news came in yesterday that a street away from our home a 13-hour standoff occurred as a man stood on a ledge outside his apartment - threatening to jump because he had stabbed his girlfriend to death. The children shouting OBAMA in the school yard are our students. That crisp fall wind that chills our bones also chills the homeless men occupying the benches up the street - Angel, Rios and Julian. This wild crazy city is our home.
Despite all that I have become familiar with, gotten accustom to, and experienced I still find myself encountering situations I have never dreamed of. Two weeks ago I had the privilege of joining my boss and a few other individuals from the local community in celebrating a welcome home party for a mother and daughter.
Mother and daughter had lived in the same apartment for the last 40 years, receiving state aid due to mental illness. It was the responsibility of Adult Protective Services to make sure the landlord was maintaining suitable living conditions for the women; something they failed to do.
Before Sister Lauria, a woman I work with came in contact with the women who are incapable of taking care of themselves on their own living in an apartment overcome with neglect. The smell seeping from under their front door was nauseating; the bathroom and kitchen – unusable do to neglect. The conditions inhumane; the women forgotten about by a system set in place to better their lives. The landlord, a scumbag who had fallen prey to the perks he could gain with gentrification purposely let the apartment fall to pieces to try and persuade the women to move out so he could fix the place up and rent it to individuals for more money. The conditions he enabled them to live in were criminal.
The day I went to the newly renovated and beautifully furnished apartment marked the 100th day the pair had been out of their home. After Sister Lauria and a few other individuals fought long and hard for the rights of the women insisting that their apartment was in need of essential renovations, APS had no other option then agreeing. They placed the Mother and daughter in a local hospital as temporary housing, conveniently using taxpayer’s funds to cover the cost of the 100 day stay.
The homecoming party was one of the most moving experiences I have ever taken part in. The two women were greeted with a new, safe, clean and beautiful home as well as furnishings, a delicious meal and were surrounded by individuals who cared for them. Some of their neighbors were present, as were their new case manager and home aide. The senator and representatives from local government offices, as well as the local news station were among the well wishers. ( I had a lil debut on the channel 12 news, waiting for some agents to call me…)
Pictured Sister Lauria, One of the neighbors who helped the women, the mother, the senator and the daughter.
When the women walked into their new home their eyes, and everyone else’s in the room welled up with tears. The whole afternoon that we were there they couldn’t stop thanking and praising the efforts of Sister Lauria. Every time I looked at them their eyes were glazed over and they were staring from room to room, hardwood floor to ceiling in awe of the generosity and love that they had been shown. It made me realize how acutely aware we as a culture are to the needs of those in our own neighborhoods. If you saw the apartment before it was renovated you probably would have thought that the women were slobs, judging unjustly their inabilities and true need for assistance.
I had goose bumps the whole afternoon, and left feeling like I had witnessed one of those purist acts of generosity that are rarely seen these days.
Halloween was the next big eye opening experience here. Memories of Halloween as a child include my Mother making my costume (always amazingly creative), rushing through dinner so we could get an early start on the night and then running throughout our neighborhood visiting each house to receive a piece of candy, only after taking a picture with the family, all of whom were family friends. Here all schools are let out early 1:00 or 1:30 so kids could go trick-or-treating before the sun set, before it got too dangerous.
Apparently October 31st is the day the gang the Blood’s have initiation. Apparently 31 white women are their intended targets – slashing their faces with knifes. Now now now, I’m sure if you are reading this you are scared for my life, and my face (nana!) but don’t you worry, my roommates and I opted for a safe little Halloween. Instead of attending the local Halloween parade in the Village we went to Kim’s house to watch friends, eat Chinese food and play board games.
Before we went over to Kims – Katie and I sat on our stoop and handed out candy to the little kids. Ironically enough, although there are millions of little kids running throughout the streets looking for candy – apartment buildings such as our own are not places they trick-or-treat. The stores lining Fordham Road are mobbed because they are the only places that hand out candy. Katie and I, dressed in black dress pants and a black pea coat and a black dress with a beaded orange belt and an orange bow as a hair tie respectively looked like the whitest, creepiest, out of place girls ever. We literally had to lure the children over, waving candy and saying uhh are you trick-or-treating. Once they (mostly their parents) realized our intentions were good they were appreciative, but it took a few moments and a couple of dirty questioning looks.
When we ran out of candy we walked up to the local Rite Aid to buy more and could not get through the doors it was so packed with children
The Thursday before Halloween I hosted a Halloween party at Siena House, where I work. My four roommates offered to come help run games, set up food and take pictures. The party was a HUGE SUCCESS. Every women that was signed into the house was downstairs at the party instead of sitting in their bedrooms. The next day my boss, staff members and the women could not stop talking about how much they and the babies loved it – how there was no drama – no fights – how everything was perfect and how it was the most successful party they have ever had. Some days at work I feel like I could be doing more – persuading the women to fix their resumes, or get a job or look into housing. Helping to council them on their problems within and outside the confines of Siena walls, but on that Friday morning I felt wonderful knowing that I had provided a safe, exciting and fun environment for the women to interact with each other and their babies. A Christmas party is already in the works :)
The women and babies playing Halloween bingo that I created, probably the most successful part of the party!
my lil cuties all dressed up!
This past week has been just as extreme – a trip with my roommates and 15 women from Siena House to Madison Square Garden to see Cirque De Soelil’s “Wintuk” performance (also a huge hit), a visit to Fordham Law School to listen to a lecture given by a Boston College professor on "The just and the good". One of the priests from next door invited all of us, but Katie and I were the only ones able to go. The talk was really interesting, it discussed the relation of constitutional law with topics such as abortion, marriage, casual sex, physician assisted suicide, and advertising. After the talk Fr.Bill took us out to dinner and to walk around Lincoln center. We ended up walking all over the city seeing many tourist hot spots, finally ending at Rockefeller Center location of the Christmas tree and the skating rink.
The conclusion of this week has been historical with Obama’s win. I can honestly say that there is no other place I would have wanted to be when the numbers came in. Our street erupted with applause, cheers, crying, whooping, fireworks, and dancing. And in true Bronx fashion, blasting the song “Our president is a black man” will the bass turned up as loud as possible. The next day on my way to work people were making eye contact with one another and nodding their heads. A common gesture in some areas of our country is something that is a rarity around these parts. I could feel the excitement, passion, and satisfaction emanating from those I passed. It was a very humbling 24 hour period.
All in all everything is going marvelously - I still love my roomies and our silly evenings together after a long day at work (note: bowling down our hallway turned into handstand land I had nooooothing to do with initiating that one hehe) I have gotten to see Kim a daybreak friend almost every weekend, and also Brian my best guy friend from High school lives in Manhattan so I see him as often as possible. This weekend we are heading to Atlantic City with the roomies and two of the Bronx girls from last year’s community. Here’s to enjoying each day I have left here and booking my flight home for Christmas (dec 20th!!)
Monday, October 13, 2008
ya ya, I've been slacking... here it is
ya ya, I've been slacking... here it is
Okay, so after getting a few phone calls (cough cough weiland…) I decided I suppose it is time to update this thing. Life in the Bronx got hectic fast. I think the last time I wrote anything I was headed to the North Andover/Merrimack/Lawrence area to visit with the Lawrence volunteers and see my college friends at homecoming. Upon departure from the Bronx I was bottled with excitement and anticipation; seeing those familiar faces and locations I’d missed. As we began to drift further and further away from the sounds and towering buildings of a city I have so quickly grown to love I began to reflect on all that has changed in a matter of months. Don’t get me wrong, I was still thrilled to be back in my old stomping ground, but I quickly became conscious of the fine line between everything you once knew changing and yet still appearing to remain the same.
The school its grounds and facilities all appear not to have changed, but within their gates or four walls everything is somehow- remarkably different; a new professor; a new color of paint; a new vibe; a once familiar face now only producing a nod of acquaintance. I was overjoyed to be in a place that I called home for four years, but it was coupled with a tentative awkwardness that I could not escape.
I found myself missing the hustle and bustle of New York. I missed the feeling of anonymity that seems to weave itself into my everyday life in the Bronx. I felt uncomfortable as I looked around at a campus that was all Caucasian, middle to upper class, privileged, and most importantly taking what they seem to think they are “entitled to” for granted. I will admit as a college student I threw money around – clothes shoes going out at night - it didn’t matter. I cared about individuals less fortunate, but for most of my collegiate career with exceptions of attending Alternative Spring Break and volunteering for Merrimack in the City days I didn’t give of myself in the way I am right now. I know by being an RA and an Orientation Coordinator and serving on class council I was enriching the lives of many, but I have never felt so good about myself as I do on a day to day basis in the Bronx –conversations I have with the homeless men up the street, or finishing a day of work leaves me feeling like I have actually accomplished something.
This is starting to have traces of nostalgia so let me talk about the good. To quite the opposite not everything and everyone had changed, or changed for the worse. My best friends remained my best friends and were not only thrilled to see me, but reaffirmed my desire to take this year. James was there to reminisce, cuddle, and put some vulgarity and familiar laughter back in my life. Christine was there to drive me around, blast silly songs and sing at the top of our lungs, and recreate some of my fondest Merrimack moments. My freshmen (sophomores now sigh.) were there to give me the current dish on Merrimack, praise my efforts as an RA and take me down a notch when I reminded them how cool and old I was. Although the stay at the Lawrence volunteer’s house was short, they greeted us with friendship and a sense of companionship that the program has enabled us to create. Adam, Lisa, Aidan and Ellie the family that I babysat graciously opened up their house, made me breakfast and left me vent about my excitements and frustrations while allowing me to remember how much love I was provided with through their family. They were my 2nd family at school and being at their house felt like home.
There were other sweet acquaintances -both peers and faculty or staff who were there with big smiles and open arms saying how much they missed me. It felt good to be back, but it felt just as good to realize that I guess in a sense I too have changed.
I found myself not caring as much about the Merrimack drama, who was dating who and who was in a fight, (I’ll admit though it was amusing to hear the stories of James Archambault Senior Resident Advisor hah). I found myself wanting, almost needing to explain and clarify with people who saw my year of service as “a vacation”, a fun filled year in NYC. I found myself tired and wanting to go to bed at a decent hour not meaning when the sun came up as per usual in college.
As cliché as it sounds, I did realize who out of everyone from the last four years really matters and others that just are not worth the effort anymore. Regardless of all the inner emotions and change ( hahahhah I can’t believe I am typing that ) it felt good to be in a familiar place, laughing and sharing memories and realizing that this year was a good decision.
Getting back into the swing of things at work and in the Bronx was easy. I had my fix of love and attention from family and friends and when I returned back to work I was greeted by the ladies of Siena with smiles and the need for love and attention that I was so craving before. When I talk, or more listen to the women I feel a sense of grief for the hardships they face, but it is also couple with camaraderie.
The girls at work have become my friends, their lives dictate what my job entails. If one of them admits that they are illiterate I sit down and figure out a way to teach her to read. When one comes crying about her baby daddy I feel a pang of heartache not only for her distress, but for her baby too. They have really opened up to me, sharing stories, hopes and fears, and in turn I have been able to learn from them and share with them.
I told them that my parents got divorced when I was six and that I do not have any contact or relationship with my biological father and they were astounded. They called me “Snow White” most likely because I am the only white girl, but they explained how they thought I came from a “perfect” intact family. I find the more I share with them, the better I feel about myself and my job and the more of a difference I can make.
On to the not so deep and emotional. MY HALF BROTHER AND HIS WIFE HAD A BABY! Elizabeth Avery- from the pictures I have seen and the overjoyed tone in my moms voice, I know she is teeny, precious, and amazing. I am very excited to have new life within my family and I am even more excited to shop for baby clothes!
Also, JEANNIE CAME TO VISIT THIS WEEKEND. I’m sure most of you know her, but for those of you who do not, she is one of my very best friends from college. She did the volunteer program last year in Chicago so it was not only nice to see her all weekend, but she could relate to me on another level. We took the city by storm- went out once in Manhattan and once in the Bronx. Spent a day navigating the city being silly tourists, getting lost, eating an expensive meal in times square, visiting with a family she baby-sits for (whose dad plays for the Rangers and asked me if I would be interested in playing with their kids a few random times nottaaaaa big deal :) ) We giggled more then I have in a very long time and we had some serious conversations about the direction of our life and the volunteer experience as a whole.
She put many things into perspective for me and she also brought out a silly, go with the wind, up for adventure side of me that has been missing this year. She made me realize how important my job and this year are, and how a good friend will always be there to support your goals. She also brought us a ton of beer, good clothing options, and a hearty appetite which we both filled quite quickly.
October has started out nicely. There were some ups and downs with one of our roommates jobs which put some stress on the other three of us. Hopefully things will work out and this will be a way for us to learn to communicate our needs and eventually build a stronger community. As for now I am thankful that I love my job and I am excited to see where the rest of the year will take the already formed relationships.
Okay, so after getting a few phone calls (cough cough weiland…) I decided I suppose it is time to update this thing. Life in the Bronx got hectic fast. I think the last time I wrote anything I was headed to the North Andover/Merrimack/Lawrence area to visit with the Lawrence volunteers and see my college friends at homecoming. Upon departure from the Bronx I was bottled with excitement and anticipation; seeing those familiar faces and locations I’d missed. As we began to drift further and further away from the sounds and towering buildings of a city I have so quickly grown to love I began to reflect on all that has changed in a matter of months. Don’t get me wrong, I was still thrilled to be back in my old stomping ground, but I quickly became conscious of the fine line between everything you once knew changing and yet still appearing to remain the same.
The school its grounds and facilities all appear not to have changed, but within their gates or four walls everything is somehow- remarkably different; a new professor; a new color of paint; a new vibe; a once familiar face now only producing a nod of acquaintance. I was overjoyed to be in a place that I called home for four years, but it was coupled with a tentative awkwardness that I could not escape.
I found myself missing the hustle and bustle of New York. I missed the feeling of anonymity that seems to weave itself into my everyday life in the Bronx. I felt uncomfortable as I looked around at a campus that was all Caucasian, middle to upper class, privileged, and most importantly taking what they seem to think they are “entitled to” for granted. I will admit as a college student I threw money around – clothes shoes going out at night - it didn’t matter. I cared about individuals less fortunate, but for most of my collegiate career with exceptions of attending Alternative Spring Break and volunteering for Merrimack in the City days I didn’t give of myself in the way I am right now. I know by being an RA and an Orientation Coordinator and serving on class council I was enriching the lives of many, but I have never felt so good about myself as I do on a day to day basis in the Bronx –conversations I have with the homeless men up the street, or finishing a day of work leaves me feeling like I have actually accomplished something.
This is starting to have traces of nostalgia so let me talk about the good. To quite the opposite not everything and everyone had changed, or changed for the worse. My best friends remained my best friends and were not only thrilled to see me, but reaffirmed my desire to take this year. James was there to reminisce, cuddle, and put some vulgarity and familiar laughter back in my life. Christine was there to drive me around, blast silly songs and sing at the top of our lungs, and recreate some of my fondest Merrimack moments. My freshmen (sophomores now sigh.) were there to give me the current dish on Merrimack, praise my efforts as an RA and take me down a notch when I reminded them how cool and old I was. Although the stay at the Lawrence volunteer’s house was short, they greeted us with friendship and a sense of companionship that the program has enabled us to create. Adam, Lisa, Aidan and Ellie the family that I babysat graciously opened up their house, made me breakfast and left me vent about my excitements and frustrations while allowing me to remember how much love I was provided with through their family. They were my 2nd family at school and being at their house felt like home.
There were other sweet acquaintances -both peers and faculty or staff who were there with big smiles and open arms saying how much they missed me. It felt good to be back, but it felt just as good to realize that I guess in a sense I too have changed.
I found myself not caring as much about the Merrimack drama, who was dating who and who was in a fight, (I’ll admit though it was amusing to hear the stories of James Archambault Senior Resident Advisor hah). I found myself wanting, almost needing to explain and clarify with people who saw my year of service as “a vacation”, a fun filled year in NYC. I found myself tired and wanting to go to bed at a decent hour not meaning when the sun came up as per usual in college.
As cliché as it sounds, I did realize who out of everyone from the last four years really matters and others that just are not worth the effort anymore. Regardless of all the inner emotions and change ( hahahhah I can’t believe I am typing that ) it felt good to be in a familiar place, laughing and sharing memories and realizing that this year was a good decision.
Getting back into the swing of things at work and in the Bronx was easy. I had my fix of love and attention from family and friends and when I returned back to work I was greeted by the ladies of Siena with smiles and the need for love and attention that I was so craving before. When I talk, or more listen to the women I feel a sense of grief for the hardships they face, but it is also couple with camaraderie.
The girls at work have become my friends, their lives dictate what my job entails. If one of them admits that they are illiterate I sit down and figure out a way to teach her to read. When one comes crying about her baby daddy I feel a pang of heartache not only for her distress, but for her baby too. They have really opened up to me, sharing stories, hopes and fears, and in turn I have been able to learn from them and share with them.
I told them that my parents got divorced when I was six and that I do not have any contact or relationship with my biological father and they were astounded. They called me “Snow White” most likely because I am the only white girl, but they explained how they thought I came from a “perfect” intact family. I find the more I share with them, the better I feel about myself and my job and the more of a difference I can make.
On to the not so deep and emotional. MY HALF BROTHER AND HIS WIFE HAD A BABY! Elizabeth Avery- from the pictures I have seen and the overjoyed tone in my moms voice, I know she is teeny, precious, and amazing. I am very excited to have new life within my family and I am even more excited to shop for baby clothes!
Also, JEANNIE CAME TO VISIT THIS WEEKEND. I’m sure most of you know her, but for those of you who do not, she is one of my very best friends from college. She did the volunteer program last year in Chicago so it was not only nice to see her all weekend, but she could relate to me on another level. We took the city by storm- went out once in Manhattan and once in the Bronx. Spent a day navigating the city being silly tourists, getting lost, eating an expensive meal in times square, visiting with a family she baby-sits for (whose dad plays for the Rangers and asked me if I would be interested in playing with their kids a few random times nottaaaaa big deal :) ) We giggled more then I have in a very long time and we had some serious conversations about the direction of our life and the volunteer experience as a whole.
She put many things into perspective for me and she also brought out a silly, go with the wind, up for adventure side of me that has been missing this year. She made me realize how important my job and this year are, and how a good friend will always be there to support your goals. She also brought us a ton of beer, good clothing options, and a hearty appetite which we both filled quite quickly.
October has started out nicely. There were some ups and downs with one of our roommates jobs which put some stress on the other three of us. Hopefully things will work out and this will be a way for us to learn to communicate our needs and eventually build a stronger community. As for now I am thankful that I love my job and I am excited to see where the rest of the year will take the already formed relationships.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Take me out to the ball gameeee & with our powers combined
Take me out to the ball gameeee & with our powers combined
"You say it's your birthday It's my birthday too, yeah They say it's your birthday We're gonna have a good time I'm glad it's your birthday Happy birthday to you."
-Beatles
This song is the epitome of September 16Th; both Kendra and my birthday. We woke up on our birthday morning to our doors decorated with balloons and birthday signs and an egg, coffee and pancake breakfast which was a phenomenal and delicious surprise. Our two other roommates purposely got up extra extra early cause I am usually the first one to head out the door and cooked us breakfast which tasted much better then the yogurt and fruit as per usual.
During the day the Moms at the shelter called me down to the dining room and sang happy birthday with their babies. I was surprised that they first of all knew it was my birthday, and then took initiative to call me down from my office - without the suggestion coming from a higher power. During my lunch hour the Sisters and staff personnel brought out a cake and gifts for me which was also very sweet.
When I got home I was greeted with dinner and a chocolate cake with homemade vanilla frosting just like I like it! :) my roommates are too good to me! (crumbled up milano cookie was added down the center to create the Great Wall O' Cake so Kendra and I could both feel special hah) Rico came over to join us and we even wore party hats, had balloons and party favors compliments of my wonderful mom and dad <3
Below is Kendra and I blowing out our candles and making our wishes....
"You say it's your birthday It's my birthday too, yeah They say it's your birthday We're gonna have a good time I'm glad it's your birthday Happy birthday to you."
-Beatles
This song is the epitome of September 16Th; both Kendra and my birthday. We woke up on our birthday morning to our doors decorated with balloons and birthday signs and an egg, coffee and pancake breakfast which was a phenomenal and delicious surprise. Our two other roommates purposely got up extra extra early cause I am usually the first one to head out the door and cooked us breakfast which tasted much better then the yogurt and fruit as per usual.
During the day the Moms at the shelter called me down to the dining room and sang happy birthday with their babies. I was surprised that they first of all knew it was my birthday, and then took initiative to call me down from my office - without the suggestion coming from a higher power. During my lunch hour the Sisters and staff personnel brought out a cake and gifts for me which was also very sweet.
When I got home I was greeted with dinner and a chocolate cake with homemade vanilla frosting just like I like it! :) my roommates are too good to me! (crumbled up milano cookie was added down the center to create the Great Wall O' Cake so Kendra and I could both feel special hah) Rico came over to join us and we even wore party hats, had balloons and party favors compliments of my wonderful mom and dad <3
Below is Kendra and I blowing out our candles and making our wishes....
To conclude our birthday week, which was filled with cake literally every day, packages from my family members EVERY day (which are still coming!) and many happy birthday songs, one of the Priests next door got us tickets to the Yankees game.
Now, now, now Boston fans/Merrimack-ers... the tickets were free, Yankee Stadium is 2 minutes away, it was the first game of the last series EVER played in the stadium, A-Rod is a babe (ehh sorry had to throw that one in there), and whats living in NYC for a year without going to a game... I had to.
We had a phenomenal time at the game; they won. Our seats were a riot - we were near some wild middle aged man who was doing what looked like a combination of the Soulja Boy dance and having a seizure. All in all it was an amusing way to begin the weekend.
Below is a picture of the new Yankee Stadium, which is literally 100 feet away from the old one. The far left side of the train track is jam packed with individuals going towards Manhattan and our side, is well.... lacking any ANYYY human existence. We were dying laughing cause not only were there 5 empty trains sent to pick up people going to Manhattan which people were fighting to get on, but our train had us and maybe ten others. We were the ONLY white people heading towards Fordham Road whereas the Manhattan trains were predominately white. Shows what kind of draw the Yankees pull from despite being located in the Bronx.
Saturday night we ventured down to Brooklyn to meet up with tons of my Daybreak friends (some live in NYC and some came down from Vermont) to have yet another birthday party. This time the party was superhero themed and there were 6 of us with birthdays therefore 6..yes six more cakes. SO MUCH FUN and SOOO much cake!
Kendra Katie and two Daybreak friends Kim and Katie (all k's..weird now that I am typing that) and I dressed up as the Planeteers from Captain Planet. I was Earth, Kim was Heart, Kendra Fire, Roommate Katie Wind and Vermont Katie water. We made our shirts which turned out fabously despite the hilarious looks we received on the train; some intrigued, some confused and one man who offered to escort us to the party if he could be Frozone from the movie the "Incredibles"...quite priceless.
Below is Kim and I getting ready to leave my apartment to head to Brooklyn... Please notice the beautiful shirts we made EARTH represent...and our planeteer rings.
All things considered, I would say this is by far one of the most random, yet one of the most successful birthdays I have had in a lonnnng time.
This week at work has been fairly mellow and it looks likes the next few days will be as well. Tomorrow night I am taking eight of my women to see the NY Rangers and Tampa Bay Lightening play at Madison Square Garden fo free yeaa.
Work a little charm, smile here and there..badda boom badda bang free tickets.
Friday we all of my roommates and I are road tripping up to the Merrimack area to stay with the Lawrence volunteers and attend Merrimack's homecoming. Despite the rain I can't wait to see the other community, my lovely little college crew and Adam Lisa Aidan and baby Ellie!!!!
One quick last little story before I head to bed...I find it amusing. I was walking to the train this morning at 8am, my head phones in when I saw a man talking to me. I politely smiled and said hi as I usually do -- they are typically asking to marry me so I usually just say hello and keep walking. The man kept talking and gesturing so I took my earphone out just in time to catch him saying "white girl got some pretty eyes, almost as pretty as my dogs"
I know his intentions were sweet, and in all honesty it made me laugh, but I couldn't help but think that If they were just a little prettier I would be equivalent with a DOG.
Sweet, personable, dazzling smile and shes single gentlemen...oh and her eyes are almost, not quite, but ALMOST as nice as this here puppy.
The End.
Monday, September 15, 2008
I suppose NYC is a good place to turn 23...
Well, it is not quite my birthday yet and I have already experienced how much love this city and the individuals I am surrounded by have to offer.
Anna, the woman whom I work at the Siena thrift shop with once a week found out it was my birthday and bought me lunch. She is an absolute doll and I had an amazing first day of officially working with her - I'll talk about that later.
Tonight the priests next door had us over for a delicious dinner, made me a cake and gave me a card with $50 in it. Absolutely unnecessary especially considering the nature of their lifestyle, but their generosity warmed my heart! They are also taking us to a Yankees game Friday evening - the first game of the last series in the old stadium... hollllla.
And lastly, my roommates are already planning a birthday dinner for both Kendra and I cause we have the same birthday which I LOVE!!
The rest of this past week had both ups and downs. On Sunday I found out that one of my good friends fathers had passed away from Lou Gehrig's disease. He had been sick most of senior year, but I was in total shock. Tuesday I worked a half day at the thrift shop with Anna and then as trying as it was, I managed to navigated my way through not only a massive rain storm thanks to the hurricane, but also NYC's overly huge subway system to catch a greyhound bus to Boston.
The trip was long, uncomfortable and freezing. I spilled a large coffee on myself, my bag, and my seat, but I eventually made it to Boston. The wake and funeral were heartbreaking. He was so young and his disease was so devastating. The strength that his wife Mary, son Phil and my friend Kristin had was so inspirational. My heart goes out to the three of them. Although the two days were so sad, it was comforting to know that my roommates, as well as the Sisters at Siena House were praying for the family.
The only positive that came from my whirlwind 24 hour trip to MA was my ability to squeeze in visiting with a large majority of the individuals I have been missing so so so much. Numerous members of my graduating class showed up for the wake and funeral and then afterwords I was able to spend the night at Merrimack with my Friend Meg in our other friend James' room. He ironically is an RA in the building which I lived in last year which was major deja vu. I was also able to see all of my freshman (which are now sophomores ehhh), friends from orientation, my boss, the 3rd floor SAK crew- Res Life, Student Activities, the Dean, Joni as well as Hannah another AV who is living in Lawrence and working at Merrimack.
Despite the terrible circumstance which brought me to Massachusetts being with all of my friends was something I was in need of. I returned back to my NYC greeted and comforted by my three amazing roommates, and I realized that although this place is still semi unfamiliar it is starting to feel a lot more like home. Below I included a picture of my room... starting to look like an actual functioning place. Behind where I am standing is my own bathroom.
The rest of the week was fairly uneventful - work at Siena House was slow due to the large amount of mothers who have started either GED classes or parenting classes so I was left to play with the babies numerous times throughout the day, which was sooooo miserable :)
One of the babies at Siena
Three of the kids at Andreas after school program which I helped out at after work.
SUCH BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN.
This weekend I was able to see one of my best friends from Vermont, Brian as well as a whole crew of Camp Daybreak friends which again was a much needed taste of home. I unfortunately got a 24 hour bug and spent all of Sunday day and night either sleeping or getting sick. Being sick away from home, not having a Mom or a Nana to take care of you is terrible no matter how old you are. My roommates were sweethearts and brought me crackers and ginger ale and this morning I felt back to normal.
Which brings me to the Thrift Shop. The shop is run by Siena House and although the initial goal of opening it was to make profits which would benefit the shelter - the extremely low selling prices that are put on everything does not make for much of a profit. There are only a select few items that exceed $3 and I am sure Anna or Sister Lauria could easily be talked into selling them for cheaper. Today we gave out bread to homeless individuals who came into the store and I had the pleasure of hanging out with a man named Johnny Five - decorating the two store windows for fall with him.
Johnny Five is a man who has struggled with homelessness much of his adult life. In a city full of lights Johnny has called a cave under a roadway home. He has had his bout with drugs and alcohol and unfortunately to this day still slips into his old habits quite frequently. Although is lifestyle is one which I can't even begin to imagine or understand, today he proved 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. I honestly could not stop listening to him. He went 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 a Leprechaun and make me dance.
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. I am in awe of his spirit and his pure determination. Offering his time to help Anna and Sister Lauria at the Thrift Store doing any medial task they ask him to (helping me decorate the windows, going to cash checks for a considerable amount of money... and bringing that money back or moving heavy boxes.)
He totally changed the stereotypical view of the homeless that had previously infiltrated my life. He is not dirty in fact he told me how he loves Cologne and dressing up nice. He not unfriendly nor is he untrustworthy. I honestly am at a loss of words - his life is so far removed from anything that I have ever experienced, yet I was able to completely relate to him. I feel so privileged to have the opportunity to push my personal boundaries and learn from someone like him.
This year is proving to be so much more rewarding then I ever could have imagined. Here's to turning 23 in this crazy city, and all that it has to offer.
Anna, the woman whom I work at the Siena thrift shop with once a week found out it was my birthday and bought me lunch. She is an absolute doll and I had an amazing first day of officially working with her - I'll talk about that later.
Tonight the priests next door had us over for a delicious dinner, made me a cake and gave me a card with $50 in it. Absolutely unnecessary especially considering the nature of their lifestyle, but their generosity warmed my heart! They are also taking us to a Yankees game Friday evening - the first game of the last series in the old stadium... hollllla.
And lastly, my roommates are already planning a birthday dinner for both Kendra and I cause we have the same birthday which I LOVE!!
The rest of this past week had both ups and downs. On Sunday I found out that one of my good friends fathers had passed away from Lou Gehrig's disease. He had been sick most of senior year, but I was in total shock. Tuesday I worked a half day at the thrift shop with Anna and then as trying as it was, I managed to navigated my way through not only a massive rain storm thanks to the hurricane, but also NYC's overly huge subway system to catch a greyhound bus to Boston.
The trip was long, uncomfortable and freezing. I spilled a large coffee on myself, my bag, and my seat, but I eventually made it to Boston. The wake and funeral were heartbreaking. He was so young and his disease was so devastating. The strength that his wife Mary, son Phil and my friend Kristin had was so inspirational. My heart goes out to the three of them. Although the two days were so sad, it was comforting to know that my roommates, as well as the Sisters at Siena House were praying for the family.
The only positive that came from my whirlwind 24 hour trip to MA was my ability to squeeze in visiting with a large majority of the individuals I have been missing so so so much. Numerous members of my graduating class showed up for the wake and funeral and then afterwords I was able to spend the night at Merrimack with my Friend Meg in our other friend James' room. He ironically is an RA in the building which I lived in last year which was major deja vu. I was also able to see all of my freshman (which are now sophomores ehhh), friends from orientation, my boss, the 3rd floor SAK crew- Res Life, Student Activities, the Dean, Joni as well as Hannah another AV who is living in Lawrence and working at Merrimack.
Despite the terrible circumstance which brought me to Massachusetts being with all of my friends was something I was in need of. I returned back to my NYC greeted and comforted by my three amazing roommates, and I realized that although this place is still semi unfamiliar it is starting to feel a lot more like home. Below I included a picture of my room... starting to look like an actual functioning place. Behind where I am standing is my own bathroom.
The rest of the week was fairly uneventful - work at Siena House was slow due to the large amount of mothers who have started either GED classes or parenting classes so I was left to play with the babies numerous times throughout the day, which was sooooo miserable :)
One of the babies at Siena
Three of the kids at Andreas after school program which I helped out at after work.
SUCH BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN.
This weekend I was able to see one of my best friends from Vermont, Brian as well as a whole crew of Camp Daybreak friends which again was a much needed taste of home. I unfortunately got a 24 hour bug and spent all of Sunday day and night either sleeping or getting sick. Being sick away from home, not having a Mom or a Nana to take care of you is terrible no matter how old you are. My roommates were sweethearts and brought me crackers and ginger ale and this morning I felt back to normal.
Which brings me to the Thrift Shop. The shop is run by Siena House and although the initial goal of opening it was to make profits which would benefit the shelter - the extremely low selling prices that are put on everything does not make for much of a profit. There are only a select few items that exceed $3 and I am sure Anna or Sister Lauria could easily be talked into selling them for cheaper. Today we gave out bread to homeless individuals who came into the store and I had the pleasure of hanging out with a man named Johnny Five - decorating the two store windows for fall with him.
Johnny Five is a man who has struggled with homelessness much of his adult life. In a city full of lights Johnny has called a cave under a roadway home. He has had his bout with drugs and alcohol and unfortunately to this day still slips into his old habits quite frequently. Although is lifestyle is one which I can't even begin to imagine or understand, today he proved 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. I honestly could not stop listening to him. He went 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 a Leprechaun and make me dance.
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. I am in awe of his spirit and his pure determination. Offering his time to help Anna and Sister Lauria at the Thrift Store doing any medial task they ask him to (helping me decorate the windows, going to cash checks for a considerable amount of money... and bringing that money back or moving heavy boxes.)
He totally changed the stereotypical view of the homeless that had previously infiltrated my life. He is not dirty in fact he told me how he loves Cologne and dressing up nice. He not unfriendly nor is he untrustworthy. I honestly am at a loss of words - his life is so far removed from anything that I have ever experienced, yet I was able to completely relate to him. I feel so privileged to have the opportunity to push my personal boundaries and learn from someone like him.
This year is proving to be so much more rewarding then I ever could have imagined. Here's to turning 23 in this crazy city, and all that it has to offer.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
just call me Auntie
Katie, Andrea, Kendra, and I one night during orientation.
Myself, Kendra, Andrea and Katie with fair trade coffee on our scavenger hunt through philly.
My Roomies!
Katie is teaching ESL at St. Rita's Immigration Center which is the first and second floor of our building. She is also working as an assistant preschool teacher for adorable little children.
Andrea is working a few doors down at St. Nicholas of Tolentine teaching Spanish and working in the Library. Her boss, although organized and really good at her job reminds me of the insane teacher in Matilda... she scares the crap outta me. The woman has equipped the library with 4 ginormous bunnies and a random hamster that gets let out to roam the building during the day and apparently returns in the evenings. Andreas new furry friends.
Kendra is kinda all over the place. She is working with Katie a few days downstairs as an ESL teacher, which will prove to be interesting considering she doesn't really speak much Spanish and she certainly does not speak Cambodian or any other language that seems prevalent around our area. She is also working with the Augustinian NGO in correlation with the UN... yet to be determined, apparently Catholic social teaching and education. Basically they stick her in a tiny room 100000 floors up in the building next door.
My job so far has been unreal. I absolutely love the people, love the commute and love the fact that I am never doing the same thing.
My commute is a 5 min walk up Fordham Ave (right near my place) a 10 min metro ride and then a 10 minute walk up a large hill. There are always interesting individuals on the metro - some playing drums, some in teeny tiny work out shorts stretching practically in my lap, and some proposing to me. Life in the Bronx is a new adventure each day.
Basically there are 27 females that either have a child or are pregnant that live at Siena House, my job is to interact with the females and plan activities and educational opportunities for them. Below is a picture of the place...
So really there is no description that would do do my job justice. During week one I have worked on resumes with the girls. Helped them draft cover letters, shown them how to use the Internet to look up jobs, credit reports, housing. We also have planned a BBQ for this coming Wednesday, and are in the process of planning an arts and crafts day where the women can tie dye onesies for their children. Oh yea, and I helped a woman give birth - - no big deal - -
Wednesday morning I arrived at work and was instantly sent to the hospital. Apparently one of the girls who was due September 11th went into early labor. She unfortunately, like so many others, does not have any family members who support her, her baby's father is not really in the picture and she was going to have to go through labor and delivery alone. Typically in these situations one of the Nun's will go to the hospital with the woman, but in this case the girl asked for ME! I have never been so flattered and yet so incredibly scared in my entire life.
The woman, who is only 20 opted to have a midwife instead of doctors, which was really fascinating although it meant that I was the only other individual in the room during the whole process. I honestly can not even explain how beautiful and yet how painfully vivid the whole process was. When I got there she explained how she was going through this alone and how she felt like she really made a connection with me (we were talking about music and our favorite foods the day before hah) and how she wanted someone who she could trust to be by her side. She was in hard labor for over three hours and ended up having a C-section because the baby was as she called it "stuck in her cave".
I literally burst into tears the moment I saw her and heard her cry. That moment was so intense and yet so peaceful. It really is the miracle of life. It was such a gratifying experience, one that I never expected to be a part of, and honestly could not ever have imagined especially considering it was within my first week on the job.
Her name is Carly and she was 5 pounds 14 oz 18 1/2 inches long and the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I honestly can't put into words how happy I was, and am and how lucky I feel to have someone who I just barely met think I was important enough to help her. Just pretty amazing.
JUST CALL ME AUNTIE MEG!!
Other then that big news, life has been going pretty smoothly. We are each exhausted at night after work so we usually make dinner together and then just relax having prayer or watching some TV at night. Thursday we lit a candle and had a little birthday celebration in honor of my brother Colin's 20th birthday and the beginning of his college career. I'm a proud big sis!
Friday night we met up with my friend from Camp Daybreak, Kim and a few of her friends in the lower east side. We started the night at a bar/restaurant which coincidently we had gone to for breakfast last Sunday, and then ended the night at a bar which oddly enough looked more stereotypical Vermont then most Vermont bars - country and oldies playing, boots hanging on the walls, a random game where the objective was to shoot deer. It was by far the last thing I expected to find in New York City a sweet little taste of home nonetheless.
Today Sunday there was a festival going on all day. Barricades blocked off the main section of Fordham road hosting bands (mostly salsa and reggae), tons of people and delicious food. The four of us meandered through the streets watching the cultures mingle, taking in the smells and of course doing a little shopping on the side. Life as a volunteer definitely puts restrictions on income, therefore I have actually learned the art of shopping without purchasing - - shocking I know huh Mom?(I did manage to scrounge up a little cash to buy myself some warm clothes... wouldn't want to be cold during a NYC winter now would we?)
Its midnight and although I am exhausted and ready for bed the sounds of Andrews Ave and Fordham road are still echoing throughout our apartment....
Myself, Kendra, Andrea and Katie with fair trade coffee on our scavenger hunt through philly.
My Roomies!
Katie is teaching ESL at St. Rita's Immigration Center which is the first and second floor of our building. She is also working as an assistant preschool teacher for adorable little children.
Andrea is working a few doors down at St. Nicholas of Tolentine teaching Spanish and working in the Library. Her boss, although organized and really good at her job reminds me of the insane teacher in Matilda... she scares the crap outta me. The woman has equipped the library with 4 ginormous bunnies and a random hamster that gets let out to roam the building during the day and apparently returns in the evenings. Andreas new furry friends.
Kendra is kinda all over the place. She is working with Katie a few days downstairs as an ESL teacher, which will prove to be interesting considering she doesn't really speak much Spanish and she certainly does not speak Cambodian or any other language that seems prevalent around our area. She is also working with the Augustinian NGO in correlation with the UN... yet to be determined, apparently Catholic social teaching and education. Basically they stick her in a tiny room 100000 floors up in the building next door.
My job so far has been unreal. I absolutely love the people, love the commute and love the fact that I am never doing the same thing.
My commute is a 5 min walk up Fordham Ave (right near my place) a 10 min metro ride and then a 10 minute walk up a large hill. There are always interesting individuals on the metro - some playing drums, some in teeny tiny work out shorts stretching practically in my lap, and some proposing to me. Life in the Bronx is a new adventure each day.
Basically there are 27 females that either have a child or are pregnant that live at Siena House, my job is to interact with the females and plan activities and educational opportunities for them. Below is a picture of the place...
So really there is no description that would do do my job justice. During week one I have worked on resumes with the girls. Helped them draft cover letters, shown them how to use the Internet to look up jobs, credit reports, housing. We also have planned a BBQ for this coming Wednesday, and are in the process of planning an arts and crafts day where the women can tie dye onesies for their children. Oh yea, and I helped a woman give birth - - no big deal - -
Wednesday morning I arrived at work and was instantly sent to the hospital. Apparently one of the girls who was due September 11th went into early labor. She unfortunately, like so many others, does not have any family members who support her, her baby's father is not really in the picture and she was going to have to go through labor and delivery alone. Typically in these situations one of the Nun's will go to the hospital with the woman, but in this case the girl asked for ME! I have never been so flattered and yet so incredibly scared in my entire life.
The woman, who is only 20 opted to have a midwife instead of doctors, which was really fascinating although it meant that I was the only other individual in the room during the whole process. I honestly can not even explain how beautiful and yet how painfully vivid the whole process was. When I got there she explained how she was going through this alone and how she felt like she really made a connection with me (we were talking about music and our favorite foods the day before hah) and how she wanted someone who she could trust to be by her side. She was in hard labor for over three hours and ended up having a C-section because the baby was as she called it "stuck in her cave".
I literally burst into tears the moment I saw her and heard her cry. That moment was so intense and yet so peaceful. It really is the miracle of life. It was such a gratifying experience, one that I never expected to be a part of, and honestly could not ever have imagined especially considering it was within my first week on the job.
Her name is Carly and she was 5 pounds 14 oz 18 1/2 inches long and the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I honestly can't put into words how happy I was, and am and how lucky I feel to have someone who I just barely met think I was important enough to help her. Just pretty amazing.
JUST CALL ME AUNTIE MEG!!
Other then that big news, life has been going pretty smoothly. We are each exhausted at night after work so we usually make dinner together and then just relax having prayer or watching some TV at night. Thursday we lit a candle and had a little birthday celebration in honor of my brother Colin's 20th birthday and the beginning of his college career. I'm a proud big sis!
Friday night we met up with my friend from Camp Daybreak, Kim and a few of her friends in the lower east side. We started the night at a bar/restaurant which coincidently we had gone to for breakfast last Sunday, and then ended the night at a bar which oddly enough looked more stereotypical Vermont then most Vermont bars - country and oldies playing, boots hanging on the walls, a random game where the objective was to shoot deer. It was by far the last thing I expected to find in New York City a sweet little taste of home nonetheless.
Today Sunday there was a festival going on all day. Barricades blocked off the main section of Fordham road hosting bands (mostly salsa and reggae), tons of people and delicious food. The four of us meandered through the streets watching the cultures mingle, taking in the smells and of course doing a little shopping on the side. Life as a volunteer definitely puts restrictions on income, therefore I have actually learned the art of shopping without purchasing - - shocking I know huh Mom?(I did manage to scrounge up a little cash to buy myself some warm clothes... wouldn't want to be cold during a NYC winter now would we?)
Its midnight and although I am exhausted and ready for bed the sounds of Andrews Ave and Fordham road are still echoing throughout our apartment....
Monday, September 1, 2008
I <3 NYC pics
The church that our house is connected to, that is only part of it...its mammoth and gorgeous
Our little house on Andrews Ave. Our stoop and the gate that lets us in to our CRAZY driveway
A view from the car on the Major Deegan Highway entering NYC!
The View from the window, Motys Grocery store and Mi Gentes barber shop ... Both located across the street.
Our little house on Andrews Ave. Our stoop and the gate that lets us in to our CRAZY driveway
A view from the car on the Major Deegan Highway entering NYC!
The View from the window, Motys Grocery store and Mi Gentes barber shop ... Both located across the street.
A New York Resident
Well, I am officially a resident of New York City! Orientation for the most part went smoothly. I had a few rocky points where I questioned whether or not I was making the right decision - giving up a year - but after calling my poor mother 3000 times and crying a little bit I realized that the community of past Augustinian Volunteers, the program, and my roommates are all amazing and although this year will be challenging in numerous ways it will also be extremely rewarding.
Our program has six different sites; four domestic and two international:
Bronx, NY
Chicago, IL
Lawrence, MA
San Diego, CA
Peru
South Africa
All of the volunteers for the 08-09 year were at orientation so we were able to make connections with them, and hopefully be able to keep in contact over the course of the year and beyond.
As far as NYC goes... our apartment is amazing. We are on the 3rd floor of a building that is connected to a magnificent church. The first and second floors of our building house an ESL program and classrooms. In our 3rd floor apartment we have 5 bedrooms for just the four of us which works out nicely. Three bathrooms (2 showers) which works out even better considering we are all females. We have a small kitchen in our apartment and a larger one that has a stove and oven, only downfall is that it is located on the first floor, and as I said...we are on the 3rd. We have a living room with a TV and another room solely for sitting. That room has become an amusing hang out area, as we all like to listen to the sounds of the street and peek out the windows to see the individuals who are out at all hours of the night. We also have a computer room/library.
Our driveway is a sight to behold. We have a locked gate at the entrance and then the maze begins. The road is barely wide enough for our very small car to fit through --with probably 2 inches wiggle room on either edge of the car. There are a few extremely sharp angled turns that you must make in order to successfully get to the parking spot. There are numerous areas of the buildings that have carpet running up the side of them to protect the sides of the cars --if that gives you any idea of the tight quarters we are dealing with. If nothing else this year will teach me excellent maneuvering skills.
As I said before, I LOVE NEW YORK CITY...I can not even begin to explain how much I love living on Andrews Ave. The place is filled with culture, music, amazing food smells and just life. There are people out walking around the street at all hours of the night. Numerous evenings we have found ourselves sitting on our stoop (because we have a stoop!! drinking a glass of wine taking it all in.
Our travels have taken us into Manhattan two times, the first to take in the sites as tourists (Times Square, Central Park, Canal Street, The Museum of Modern Art etc.) and the second to attend a Mass at a nursing home with a community called Sant'Eguidio, and then we explored around the Lower East side. One evening we met up with my college roommates brother who attends Fordham University which is just up the road. He showed us around his school and took us to a local bar where we met a few of his friends (one girl from Burlington which was amusing).
Mostly my three roommates and I have just hung out together exploring our neighborhood - Fordham road which is always busy and filled with shops, people and food - or just sat outside and talked to our neighbors; mostly two young guys Rico and D. They are both from the Bronx and have been giving us the ins and outs on where to shop, where to hang out and what there is to do
Work starts tomorrow morning which will be exciting. I have to walk a few blocks up the street, take the train for about 10-15 and then walk a few streets down to Siena House which I'm sure will prove to be exciting.
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