A Sojourn in St. Louis

Shoutout to the road warriors in scrubs

2010-04-05T12:52:00.002-05:00

One of the NFNF nurses in Tennessee was recently featured in a local news broadcast. She's a fantastic example of their mission and work. Oh, and I miss carrying those portable scales and walking past racks of baby clothes in the office!

VSC Video

2010-03-04T10:38:00.003-06:00

One of my fellow St. Louis volunteers just alerted all of us to this VSC video, which has been updated to include pictures from our year! We're mostly toward the end, and there are some real gems here.

It's hard to believe it's been eight months since we all went out separate ways to jobs and schools. We've managed to keep in touch through email, blogs, Facebook stalking, phone calls, and even the occasional visit. As Sr. T would say, "You all have a great community."

New blog!

2009-12-30T15:51:00.003-06:00

Seeing as how I have not lived in St. Louis for a good 6 months now, I think it is time for me to move on in the blogosphere. I'll probably post here once in a while about Vincentian things, but I also need a place to write about grad school and random stuff in general.

From now on, you can find me at A Beaten Copper Lamp of Deplorable Design, i.e. beaten copper lamp (dot) blogspot (dot) com. Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you there!

Recruitment

2009-12-30T15:02:00.003-06:00

Now that I am a former VSC, Sr. T can put me to work promoting Vincentian service and recruiting volunteers. She claims I get a "finders fee" for influencing a college friend to join this year's VSC Community, but that money has yet to materialize. Maybe I get paid in prayers.

I've also had the opportunity to talk about VSC at two very different places: Villanova University's Post-Graduate Service Fair, and my high school's Religion 12 classes. Here are some observations about both.

Villanova

Why must college campuses be inherently confusing to visiting drivers?
Villanova is indeed as "affluent, attractive, and athletic" as an STL friend once told me
Ladies of 'nova, I salute you for actually wearing jeans, or even cute skirts and tights! All the leggings-as-pants and nasty sweats on my current campus make me want to gag.
Villanova university, I salute you for giving your students great information about how a volunteer year works and what students can do with it. It was also cool to see monks running around in their black habits.
Fellow volunteer programs, I salute you for display boards that were snazzier than mine, and for the great work you do all over the world. I had some great discussions with people who did radio ministry in Alaska, taught English in China, helped at Covenant House in Philly, or even ran a pregnant women's shelter.

Religion 12

I'd forgotten how crowded and chaotic my school's hallways could be.
People actually laughed at my jokes about "Improving my nun acquaintance 1000%"
All those brightly colored VSC pens leftover from Villanova were the surest way to the teenagers' hearts.
Baby pictures from NFNF were also a hit.
I tried to say things that I would have found provocative at age 17: social justice is for all Catholics, not "liberals;" you don't know everything you need to know about your faith yet; if abortion were illegal tomorrow, there would still be major social problems that need fixing as well. I doubt I blew anyone's mind, but the teacher seemed to think I did a good job.

Overall, these were both fun adventures that prompted me to re-evaluate my VSC year. What did I learn? Have I been following those lessons? How did a year of service change me? What do I need to do to continue to live that out? My resolution for 2010 is to find a weekly service commitment in my new city, now that I am settled in.

Merry Christmas!!

2009-12-24T10:41:00.003-06:00

The other day I finally found my boxes of Christmas cards, so I need to send some out to all my St. Louis friends. Mail service here is up and running despite the deep snow ruts that remain on our street. Compared to the remains of the blizzard, our mailman's truck looks positively dingy.

I hope all my NFNF co-workers have a joyous holiday. I know one nurse is excited to finally have her husband home from Iraq! I'm also praying for all the clients and their kids. At my new parish in Delaware I chose a name from the "Angel Tree". I thought about all the babies back in STL while I shopped for 2T clothes for a little girl I'll probably never meet.

Today Nicholas Kristof has a neat article listing lesser-known charities that would make good holiday gifts. As I read, I couldn't help wondering what an agency had to do to get on the list ;-)

Happy Advent!

2009-12-17T09:20:00.001-06:00

Can you believe we're past Gaudete Sunday already? Time sure flies when you are writing final papers. Around this time last year, I was preparing to return to Virginia for the first time in over four months. We VSC girls were gathered around our awesome "living simply" Advent wreath, which involved dirt-filled shot glasses. Tennessee Volunteer got an A+ for creativity.

One of new goals for post-VSC life is reading the scriptures from daily Mass. I did that a lot in undergrad. Looking back, my meditations on the daily readings, especially during Advent, are what influenced me toward a service year. I became more and more convinced that social justice is not an optional part of following Christ. Here are a few verses my 2007 self marked down in a journal:

Isaiah 11
But he shall judge the poor with justice,
and decide aright for the land's afflicted.
He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.
Justice shall be a band around his waist,
and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.

Psalm 146
The LORD God keeps faith forever,
secures justice for the oppressed,
gives food to the hungry.
The LORD sets captives free.

The LORD gives sight ot the blind;
the LORD raises up those who were bowed down;
the LORD loves the just;
the LORD protects strangers.

And of course Mary sums it all up in the Magnificat as Christ's incarnation fulfills these promises:
He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones and has lifted up the lowly. The hungry he has filled with good things; the rich he has sent empty away.

It's true

2009-10-06T22:28:00.000-05:00

(via chicklit)

Random little things

2009-08-28T22:39:00.002-05:00

So I just remembered something else I miss about the STL: the neighborhood Schnuck's on a Sunday. If you go in the afternoon, people are coming by after church to get a newspaper. I love how the older African-American men are all dressed to the nines in their pinstripe suits and fedoras. Nobody dresses like that in NOVA, the land of the soccer mom.

There are some things I missed about the "DC Metro Area" too, though. There, everyone is from somewhere else, so you don't have to rely on high school connections to find a social network. It's also a big ethnic melting pot. I love how the women in saris always take their evening walks around the neighborhood. Nobody dresses like that in St. Louis, the land of the 4th generation Midwesterner.

Brother #3's elementary school open house looked like the UN this week. His classmates are Indian, Asian, African-American, and of course Irish/Italian/Polish "European mutts" as I call us. I'm glad he has to interact with people who are a little different from him.

Thinking of the Loop

2009-08-20T20:00:00.003-05:00

The other night I was at a grad student gathering and met a conservator from Missouri. It was amazing to talk with another person who knows all the St. Louis landmarks too! She went to UMSL for undergrad and even lived on The Loop for a while. We swapped stories about all the wacky characters you see on Delmar and about catching the Metrolink at Skinker and Forest Park.

Oh boy, I do miss that part of town. A few weekends back Other Sarah and I wanted to go out to eat, maybe take in some local flavor. Even with GPS and an iPhone, we ended up driving in circles, finding only office buildings and hotels. If only there was a Loop, or South Grand, or Central West End around here! We could dress up cute and then stroll the sidewalks for something to eat, and maybe some vintage clothes while we're at it.

Art imitates life?!

2009-08-18T11:20:00.005-05:00

After seeing my post about churches in malls and bars in churches, a friend alerted me to this gem of a comic.
I love Married to the Sea, since it combines two of my favorite things: snark and old-timey images.

God and shopping malls

2009-08-16T13:13:00.004-05:00

American Papist picked up a story about the coolest idea I have heard in a long time - Capuchin priests making Confession available in a shopping mall. Brilliant! What a great evangelization tool, reminding people about spiritual needs in the midst of so much buying and selling. Why doesn't my mall have a chapel?

And so, yet another example of Catholic architecture evolving in the 21st century. I was just reading about a church in Pittsburgh that is now a brewery and restaurant. The religious pun names for beers is cute I guess, but I was disturbed by the report that "Indeed, the huge beer vat that produces the beer that patrons are drinking is situated on the altar directly under the baldochino." Seriously?

The same article profiled my childhood parish as an example of post-Vatican II architecture. I was rather surprised to turn the page and see a photo of the Activities Center! The author's interpretation felt a bit off, though- why did she not include a picture of the current church building? Whom did she interview to get the scoop on parish outrage over the plexiglass/bronze crucifix? (Shown here in all its Christmas glory.) There are no footnotes. Curious.

Through the looking glass

2009-08-12T00:41:00.002-05:00

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face:
now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

I Corinthians 13:12

All the 18th century mirrors in the museum make me think about St. Paul.

"Memory, that winged host that flew above me" - Brideshead Revisited

2009-08-09T16:03:00.008-05:00

Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited is my favorite book. Ever since it was on my summer reading list senior year of high school, I've re-read it about once a year. On every return visit I've changed a little, and so I notice or enjoy new things. The notes my 17 year old self made feverishly in colored pencil seem a little silly today.

I did put BR aside during my year in St. Louis, however. Around this time last year, I raced to see the new film adaptation at the Chase Park Plaza theater. The trip had an air of nostalgic melancholy, like realizing you and an old friend no longer have much in common. I realized I was coming to say goodbye. My days of Oxford Arcadian fantasies were over.

But it wasn't really goodbye, apparently. Like the Flyte family in Charles' life, whole sections of the book keep popping into my mind now that I spend my days at a "museum and country estate."Maybe my old friend and I have found a new way to connect.

"Is the dome by Inigo Jones too? It looks later."
"Oh Charles, don't be such a tourist. What does it matter when it was built, if it's pretty?"
"It's the sort of thing I like to know."

On my first visit to Winterthur, I scoffed at its opulence and seemingly redundant acres of antique furniture. Now, as I'm learning to guide tourists through those Chippendale corridors, I'm also discovering the joy of knowing about style and connoisseurship. The other day, I did some exploring one my own and was genuinely wowed by the beauty of the Blackwell Parlor. The information binder in the corner was very helpful. Historical context is the sort of thing I like to know.

It was an aesthetic education to live within those walls, to wander from room to room, from the Soanesque library to the Chinese drawing-room, adazzle with gilt pagodas and nodding mandarins, painted paper and Chippendale fret-work, from the Pompeian parlor ... to sit, hour after hour, in the pillared shade looking out over the terrace.

Bon Appetit!

2009-08-08T21:18:00.004-05:00

I just returned from seeing Julie and Julia with my roommate, Other Sarah, and I have to say that my heart has been thoroughly warmed. Slow-roasted for hours in a savory wine sauce warmed. Wrapped in a pastry crust and baked to golden brown warmed. Other Sarah and I have both declared that we can think of nothing better than to find doting husbands and then spend the rest of our lives cooking French food for them and our friends.

I could identify with Meryl Streep's Julie as she longed for "Something to do-oo" and chatted non-stop with her sister. I also identified with Amy Adams' Julie as her cubicle labor prompted her to cry "I can write a blog! I have thoughts!" Julie is also bit self-absorbed, which alarmed me. Am I like that? Yikes. At least I know my reader's lives will go on if I stop writing.

I also enjoyed analyzing the technological differences between the protagonist. Back in "the last century," Julia relies on letters to keep tabs on distant friends. On the other hand, Julie can instantly encounter her idol through the ubiquitous visual culture of the 2000's. The French Chef reruns, parody skits, and a Smithsonian exhibit all allow the protagonist to commune with Julia's creative genius. Likewise, Julie's project does not have meaning until it is validated on computer and then movie screens. It's a far cry from Julia's original cookbook draft as stacks of onion skin paper.

Although it is female-focused, the male characters in Julie and Julia are what hold it together. Both husbands are patient, encouraging, and affectionate; although sometimes exasperated by their wives' cooking hobbies. It is rare to see men get so much dignity in a chick flick - there is no reason to gripe about these guys over cosmos. Their relationships with their wives make the film realistic but deeply romantic. No one chases anyone through an airport or builds an elaborate closet or breaks up a wedding. Instead, two couples love each other, work through problems, and generally explore what this film review calls the "happily ever after" part.

A good biopic sends you running back to primary documents, and this film did that. I'm sorry to say my own memories of the real Julia Child are nothing special. When I was a child I only saw her master chef series, where guests did most of the talking. To me, Julia was some foreboding elite chef whose food was boring and complicated. I much preferred the shenanigans of Yan Can Cook or The Frugal Gourmet. Fortunately, PBS has corrected my misconceptions through the Julia Child videos posted on their website. Go check them out for yourself - the Cheese Souffle one is my favorite.

Family field trip!

2009-08-04T17:30:00.004-05:00

This past weekend I was able to make one of those impromptu trips home that my parents had been hoping would happen now that I'm within driving distance again. I was just in time for a family trip to the newly remodeled National Museum of American History. Besides Air and Space, this was always my favorite Smithsonian museum. When I was 5, I took home a First Ladies' gowns coloring book. It was a little frustrating since a good 25% of them were something impossible like white, cream, or "bombazine," but I loved it. I made my Mom read me the catalog entries a dozen times.

Here are my opinions of the new, somewhat improved NMAH.
Good Things

Overall, the building is brighter and easier to navigate. I was surprised, though, at how little had changed in the overall floorplan.
Vastly improved Star Spangled Banner display keeps the flag safe, but still looks cool. The walk-through exhibits about Fort McHenry and the flag's conservation were also good.
The extensive "America at War" exhibit was patriotic but not jingoistic. There was plenty to see and touch. My brothers spent a good hour there, not surprisingly.
The transportation section was greatly improved. I especially liked how they used turn-of-the-century DC as a case study for emerging interstate markets and transport.
"Within These Walls," a 200 year study of a house in Ipswich, MA. They managed to fit in abolition, Irish immigrants, and the WWII homefront, along with a healthy dose of architecture. I was able to identify Queen Anne and Chippendale chairs in the Colonial section!

Not-s0-good things.

Lines for the "pop" exhibits. What is this, Disney World? Lots of people want to see the ruby slippers and First Lady dresses. Why are they then in a cramped space with a narrow entrance? I was pleased to learn that the single First Ladies' room is only temporary, though.
Restroom entrances are also preposterously narrow. What would someone do with a stroller if there was a line backed up to the door?
My brothers reported that the invention section was mostly hand-wringing about the dangers of the nuclear age.
Julia Child's kitchen was fun, albeit a little fluffy. It's indicative of our culture that everyone ended up just staring at the video clips of her show.

Overall, the exhibits tried to suit their "national" role, painting broad pictures of major historical trends. I'll be curious to see what other innovations arrive in coming months.

My favorite moment was walking through the 20th century war section. Each "generation" of my family related to something different. We all chuckled at the kitchy WWII war bond cartoons and posters. Then we arrived at Vietnam, which Dad could of course remember. We gathered around the plastic-wrapped avocado sofa to watch sobering news clips of Saigon. Then on to chunks of the Berlin Wall, which is one of my earliest news footage memories. I did a double take when a teeanger said, "Mom, what's the Berlin Wall?" My middle brother and sister were most fascinated by the twisted hunks of metal from the World Trade Center. Brother #3 didn't linger there; he was still in diapers when terrorists attacked it. What memories will he associate with war?

Welcome new VSCs!

2009-08-03T21:56:00.003-05:00

It's hard to believe, but a new VSC year has started. The last of my roommates left on Friday, and the new volunteers arrived yesterday. WELCOME! Right now you still barely know one another, and you are probably still confused by all the random artwork and objects around the house. Sr. T will be keeping you busy with orientation and field trips to your service sites. It's a tough week, but an important rite of passage. (Here's what I was feeling this time last year.)
I can't wait to receive the VSC newsletter and hear all about you!

As for me, I have moved yet again, to a lovely little apartment in Delaware. Grad school summer classes started last week. I am again in a community of 8, only this time we are all museum people. We even have not one, but two token males!

I've only been here a short time, but already it feels like home. I remain woefully ignorant about antiques, but have had little trouble getting back into a school schedule. Today I studied (and handled) trade bills from the 1880's, ate lunch in the Enchanted Woods garden, then communed with 1760's Chippendale-style chairs. Can someone pinch me?

I want to go to there!

2009-08-01T21:26:00.002-05:00

The new logo for World Youth Day 2011 in Madrid was recently announced. Ooh, I really want to go! Spain! The Pope! Thousands of other Catholics! Spain!

World Youth Day 2002 in Toronto the biggest adventure of my teens, and remains one of my fondest memories. Going to WYD as a young adult would certainly be very different.

The Madrid event will be just after I finish my master's degree - graduation present? Or will I luck out and be already employed by then and too busy to travel? I better start thinking of a research project involving Spanish material culture.

The road goes ever on and on

2009-07-29T17:20:00.002-05:00

Great article in the Washington Post today about a group of Franciscan friars on a six-week, 300 mile walking pilgrimage from southern VA to to the Franciscan Holy Land shrine in DC. Following Jesus' orders when He sent disciples out on missions, they took " no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra tunic." Their story of relying on kindness of strangers, and offering their own kindness, brought tears to my eyes.

"Dressed like we are in our habits, it's like a walking sign that says, 'Tell us your life's problems,' " explained Cliff Hennings, the youngest of the friars at 23.

In every instance, the friars made time for conversation. They shot the breeze with a gang of drunk bikers, dispensed relationship advice to the brokenhearted commuters and bore witness to one and all, yea, even to the Chik-fil-A employee dressed as a cow.

What a beautiful, and humorous, tale of living simply and relying on Providence.

Alumni update

2009-07-26T20:57:00.000-05:00

I am a guest blogger on my high school's alumni website today, thanks to an invitation from one of my former English teachers. He had visited this blog, and so asked me to write about my VSC experience. It was a good exercise to try to distill a year into one short article. I hope the stories I chose to tell will help people realize what a volunteer year is all about.

While I was killing time in San Antonio, I was able to read Pope Benedict's new social justice encyclical Caritas in Vertitate (Love in Truth). Besides making me look business-like in the hotel restaurant, this was serendipitous, as I discovered a great quotation to use in my article.

“Only through an encounter with God are we able to see in the other something more than just another creature, to recognize the divine image in the other, thus truly coming to discover him or her and to mature in a love that ‘becomes concern and care for the other.’” You can't get much more Vincentian than that. The Holy Father also cited a scripture verse that is the Daughters of Charity motto: The charity of Christ urges us. (2 Cor 5:14)

P.S. Fun Fact: The teacher who requested this article also got me on the road to Museum Studies. I wrote my first public history paper for his class my sophomore year of high school. He forbade any "depressing" topics, so I researched the history of the Smithsonian Institution. I liked the idea, but it turned out to be even more fun than I expected.

Two Palaces

2009-07-26T19:38:00.004-05:00

On my San Antonio trip, I visited the Spanish Governor's Palace, a well-preserved downtown adobe building dating to around 1749. I thought it would be fun to compare it to the reproduction Governor's Palace in Colonial Williamsburg. Besides the contrast of Spanish and English building styles, their difference connote the difference in political clout and trade access of the two cities. CW's palace strives to be an equal with mansions in the mother country, while San Antonio's one-story, six-room home appears to be making the best of local materials.

The biggest history lesson I took away from San Antonio's palace was that people of the past were much hardier than we are! That morning was about 90 degrees. Even wearing shorts and walking past electric fans, I was ready for a break from the stuffy indoors in about 10 minutes. How did those Spanish aristocrats in ruffled shirts and high-collared jackets survive? How did business meetings not deteriorate into bickering between sweaty, cranky colonial staff? Were they just accustomed to the climate from birth?

Cathedral sights, Southwest Edition

2009-07-21T23:36:00.004-05:00

Last week I unexpectedly got to spend some time in San Antonio, Texas. I quickly fell in love with the festive, friendly atmosphere there, not to mention all the incredible Tex-Mex cuisine. I don't know if I will ever really accept salsa from a jar again.

The sights were also amazing. Besides the Alamo, downtown is dotted with dozens of fascinating historic buildings. I went to Mass at the San Fernando Cathedral, which was built in 1749. Pope John Paul II visited in 1987.

Despite its 18th century style, the magnificent retablo of Christ the and evangelists was added only during recent renovations. The original sanctuary decorations were lost in an 1820's fire. (Which makes San Fernando a survivor in the style of the Wren, for all you WM alums.)

I loved this painting in the narthex of the women at Christ's tomb.

A shrine to El Cristo Negro is decorated with prayer requests.

"A wild sojourn so I can learn"

2009-07-20T21:09:00.004-05:00

"How the Other Half Lives" from the musical Thoroughly Modern Millie helped inspire my blog title. In it, we meet Dorothy, a socialite who wants to try being working-class; and Millie, a small-town girl who wants to find a wealthy husband in the big city. AS they journey into the unknown, the girls become friends.

The VSC was like that, since the 8 of us came from experiences and hometowns all over the country. In many ways, we took a year off from our normal lives and selves. I know that several of my old hobbies and habits went on hiatus.

Now that I am re-connecting with friends back on the East Coast, it does seem like I have been on a trek into the wild somewhere. They really have no idea what I experienced there, but I have returned a year older and, I hope, wiser.

Archeological dig in my parents' garage

2009-07-18T14:11:00.003-05:00

During all this epic packing, I've come across artifacts from my past life that I haven't seen in years. Old textbooks and class notes, even the half-completed application from that time I wanted to study at the Jagellonian University in Poland. Now that a few years have passed I have no qualms about pitching all the physics tests and modern Russian fiction readings from the early WM years.

I also found the calendar pages that decorated my walls senior year of high school - cathedrals and architectural photography of India. The more things change...

"I'll take my heart into battle/Give that freedom bell a rattle!"

2009-07-17T22:21:00.004-05:00

Today marks the passing of another celebrity - legendary journalist Walter Cronkite. Being young'uns, my siblings and I know him better as the voice of Benjamin Franklin in the animated TV show Liberty's Kids. We just bought the entire series on DVD - nerd party!

LK is a surprisingly good PBS production dramatizing major events of the Revolutionary War. We see Independence unfold through the eyes of Franklin and his print shop assistants- Moses, a free black man; James, an apprentice; Sarah, a British ex-pat girl ; and Henri, a mischievous French orphan. The newspaper business conveniently takes the spunky but often whiny kids around the colonies and back.

Just watched the Williamsburg episode, which was pretty well done. On an errand for a new printing press, the group attempts to rescue Moses' brother Cato from slavery. Cato instead tries for freedom by anwering Governor Dunmore's call for slave soldiers. There's still time to hear Patrick Henry's "Liberty or Death" speech at St. John's Church in Richmond. James and Henri even partake in the fine tradition of colonial wall jumping!

My one beef with LK is its' often self-righteous modernity. Any mention of the South must contain ardent denunciations of OMG SLAVERY. Did you know slavery is evil? Just in case, we'll say it a dozen more times and assure you that Pennsylvania and Massachusetts were more enlightened than bad old Virginia. James' passion for up-to-the-minute headlines also borders on laughable. He has the attitude of a frantic Twitterer releasing self-important news blasts to the world.

Oh yeah, and then there are the celebrity guest voices. Ben Stiller as Thomas Jefferson? Sylvester Stallone as Paul Revere? We nerd haven't stopped laughing about it.

New adventures in living simply

2009-07-17T14:59:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I got my first grad school stipend payment. Yay for money in the bank! It's a good bit more than my VSC allowance, but then I have to factor in new expenses like rent, utilities, the car that St. Joseph will find me etc. After some mental math I was in sticker shock.

Good news kids - I am still going to be poor. My "pocket money" will likely be only slightly more than in St. Louis. Good thing I like rice and beans.

Right now I'm in the midst of packing mania to prepare for the big grad school move. As usual, I have too much stuff. Today I spent much more at Wal Mart than I anticipated. I almost cried when I saw the total. Sure, I need a lot of miscellaneous things to start out in a new place, but not that much.

Crimes and Misdemeanors

2009-07-14T22:14:00.004-05:00

I think I'm back in one of my detective novel phases. Brother Cadfael, McGurk, and Sherlock Holmes were my good buddies in middle school. Lately, I've rediscovered the Sister Mary Helen mysteries by Sister Carol Anne O'Marie.

These breezy stories feature a semi-retired San Francisco nun with a knack for assisting two Irish homicide cops in their investigations. Re-reading them after a year with the Daughters, I'm amazed at how much I can recognize in Sister Mary Helen's lifestyle. I also suspect that royalties from the novels fund the author's real work at a drop-inn center for homeless women. Sister Carol Anne writes about the world she knows, and makes you feel like you live there. Fun fact: she is a member of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, who were founded in - you guessed it - St. Louis.

While I was living in St. Louis, I got hooked on another set of female sleuth novels. Elaine Viets has penned two series about St. Louis detectives. Reporter Francesca Vierling and mystery-shopper single mom Josie Marcus are both no-nonsense girls from South St. Louis. You can bet that at some point in their novels, they will make a crack at residents of wealthy STL neighborhoods, and then go eat pork steak or fried ravioli. Theirs is the midwest where my parents grew up - you chat with your neighbors on their well-manicured rectangular lawns, and the kids all walk past mom-and-pop businesses on their way to school. It's a world I don't inhabit, but appreciate. Through her funny writing and her detective's investigations, Viets takes readers on a tour of STL zip codes and landmarks. Some of the information can sound dated, but overall it's a fun picture of a great city.

Lindell Boulevard at sunset

2009-07-11T22:30:00.002-05:00

One of my first attempts at serious photoshopping. I love how the modern Bank of America building contrasts with its older neighbors.

What dreams may come

2009-07-11T11:32:00.002-05:00

President Obama met Pope Benedict XVI yesterday, and by all accounts things went very well. Besides discussing immigration, the Middle East, economics, etc, the Holy Father gave Obama a copy of his recent document "Dignitatis Personae." The President's response to this medical ethics gift? "I will have some reading to do on the plane."

Say what you will about the Obama's past faux-pas with British dignitaries, they did very well with this audience. Instead of useless DVD's, they gave a thoughtful, appropriate gift - a stole that had been placed on the body of St. John Neumann. Michelle is wearing her trademark cardigan and belted dress, but the look is understated and dignified.
On a side note, I'd like to learn more about this apparent female dress code of black dresses and mantillas for Papal audiences. Is that a rule or just a safe call? What would happen if I showed up in, say, blue or red?

The only downside of all the coverage of this happy meeting is that it gave me really, really weird dreams. Just before my alarm went off, I had a nightmare involving ponds, colonial stone walls, and a Papal visit to my hypothetical parish. Everyone got to meet the Pope except me!!
I was next in the receiving line when he wandered away with a group of well wishers. Then his SUV drove away when I was right outside the window. Why God, why???

Ugly As Sin?

2009-07-10T23:50:00.001-05:00

Hilarious Catholic blogger Carolina Cannonball is sponsoring a contest on her site to find the "Ugliest Church Art." Since I grew up attending Mass in 1980's modernist buildings, I have a special place in my heart for religious decorations that make you go "wait...WHAT?!?!"

Here are my entries, all from my Monroe Scholar project on modern Catholic architecture.

At a Chicago parish, the Brain Coral Tabernacle. (I think it's supposed to be a burning bush, which is not a bad concept in theory.)

At Chicago's Holy Name Cathedral, a tabernacle that I have heard compared to both a Weber kettle grill and the flames of Hell. This item is one of many questionable modern pieces installed in the late 1960's "renovation."

Back in a Virginia parish, here's a tabernacle that always makes me think of a Star Wars TIE fighter.
Lastly, lest tabernacles get all the attention, here's a statue from my home parish, St. Mark's. It's supposed to be the Holy Family with St. Mark's symbol, the lion. As a child, I just thought it was terrifying. Why does St. Joseph look like he's in a coma?

Leaving St. Louis

2009-07-07T17:12:00.006-05:00

Hey Arch. You're looking fine as usual in the early morning light. It was awfully nice of you to see me off from the Amtrak station last week. I miss you already!

Walking around downtown Chicago with my cousin made me realize how truly small St. Louis' is. Still, I kind of miss how I could get downtown in less than 30 minutes. I also miss how the streets are in a reasonable grid, and how you can usually hit the speed limit on I-44 at rush hour. The past three days of northern Virginia traffic have reminded me of how insane the "National Capital Area" is.

Moving On

2009-07-07T00:26:00.003-05:00

Sorry for the lack of posts in the past week. As you may have guessed, I have moved back to the East Coast from St. Louis. I spent a few days visiting relatives in Chicago, and now I have begun the long process of sorting and packing belongings for my move to grad school.

Leaving VSC is very surreal. I may be moving on, but most of my fellow volunteers are still there. The school teachers will be busy with summer school until the end of July. My family and friends may have seen pictures of my co-workers and roommates in STL, but they don't actually know them. They don't really know what the past year has been like. At times I am not even sure if I know myself. As I fall back into the routine of my family's house, it's like my VSC year didn't happen.

But it did.
I may not feel it right this minute, but "a year of service makes a lifetime of difference." I'm going to keep blogging here for the time being, remembering experiences from St. Louis and processing what I have learned. God's will and purpose for my life still feels as mysterious as ever - what purposes for my volunteer year will I disover long after it has finished?

My last day as a grant writer

2009-06-30T22:33:00.002-05:00

Friday was my last day working at NFNF. It was bittersweet to be sure. The excitement of grad school in Delaware loomed ahead, but every time I turned around someone in the office was saying how much they would miss me. NFNF is like a big family, and they do send-offs very well. Like my first, my final day was full of love, food, and craziness - perfect.

Here's some of what happened:

Ate leftover fruit from the board meeting for breakfast
Received a gift certificate and "Thank You" balloon from the Nicest Boss in the World
Gave Nicest Boss in the World a mini statue of St. Louise de Marillac, Daughter of Charity and Patron of Social Workers. He loved it.
Was sent out to collect the office fish fry order from the VFW post across the street, where I was whistled at twice by WWII veterans
Returned to the office to find everyone in the office ready to serenade me with my goodbye song, to the tune of "Jingle Bells." Our CEO and a few others said such kind things that I will always appreciate.
Received a Visa gift card from the entire office. It will be much appreciated!
Ate the salad bar lunch our Party Planning Committee had prepared, plus GF chocolate cake made by one of the nurses.
Headed to the Healthy Start consortium meeting, where there were adorable kids and more food.
Learned about the Healthy Start client who performed an emergency delivery of her friend's 2lb premature baby. HS staff gave her a certificate, first aid kit, and official HS polo shirt. She was over the moon about all this recognition. "I'm tellin' you, I was scurred, but I just remembered the video Miss Gwen showed me. I was holdin' the baby in my hands and I just stared prayin.' I blew in her face and she started breathing!"
Packed up stuff from my desk, including Aloysuis the teddy bear, (William) Blake the tiger, and Judah the Lion.
Took pictures with everyone in the office; gave and received lots of hugs.

I'm going to miss this place.

Health care news from DC

2009-06-30T22:05:00.004-05:00

Today I learned via Nurses for Newborns' Twitter feed that our founder, Sharon Rohrbach, was at the White House today for President Obama's press conference about non-profits and innovation. His speech could have desribed Sharon's work with NFNF:

I want to thank all of you here today for everything you're doing to find new solutions to some of our oldest, toughest problems. I know what you do is not easy. I know that for many of you, the hours are long, the pay could be better -- let's face it. But I also know the difference that each of you make. I know the lives that you change every single day. You teach us that there's no such thing as a lost cause if you're willing to be creative, and challenge the conventional wisdom, and take some risks.

In other health care news, 19 Pro-Life Congressional Democrats have told Nancy Pelosi they will not support a health care reform legislation that includes funding for abortion. Way to go!

Heat Wave Road Warriors

2009-06-24T10:31:00.004-05:00

First of all, it is ridiculously hot in the STL right now. The temperature has been hovering near 100 for a week. This morning when we left for work 80 degrees felt nice and cool.

Personally, I love summer and feel a sense of accomplishment facing down extreme heat. But for clients without air conditioning, this weather is downright dangerous. Premature babies or kids with sickle cell are especially threatened. So, I've been making a few emergency fund runs to Home Depot for window unit air conditioners.

I got to help deliver one of these, and was reminded all over again of how awesome our nurses are. They always apologize for their messy cars (like I care how many packs of diapers are lying around), and then blow you away with their tenacity. Already that morning my driver had almost needed to help deliver the baby of a client who did not realize she was in labor. Don't ask me how that is possible, but when she finally admitted she was feeling "weird" our nurse figured things out. When EMS arrived the woman was already at 9 1/2 centimeters!

After recovering from that escapade, the nurse drove me to a run-down North City townhouse where 8 kids and a few adults were languishing in the heat. We must have looked pretty funny dragging the 50 lb air conditioning unit up to the second story apartment. Luckily, the baby's father was home to help get it in the door, and had everything up and running by the time our visit was done.

Even in that crowded, dark, overheated, smelly apartment, you could see glimmers of hope. That's another thing that always amazes me when I visit our clients. The family situation was less than ideal, but at least there was a "baby daddy" to help around the house . At least his children knew who he was. At least the mom was interested in our services and not just looking for handouts. The children were the most uplifting part. A few stared shyly at us, but one toddler girl grinned, giggled, and lept in our laps for hugs. The oldest daughter cradled her baby brother, and the toddlers bent down to give him kisses. Even in the face of poverty, their innocent playfulness was inspiring.

"Only connect" - EM Forster

2009-06-22T10:19:00.006-05:00

It was a busy weekend. On Saturday, I got my fill of sun, sweat, and Ozarks roller coasters at Six Flags to celebrate Tennessee and Pittsburgh Volunteers' upcoming birthdays. Then I was up early the next day. to give mission appeal talks for the Catholic Network of Volunteer Service. At every Sunday Mass at College Church. Yes, I went to church three times yesterday.

CNVS is a membership organization of over 2oo different Catholic lay volunteer and missionary programs. If you or someone you know is interested in long-term service, definitely check out cnvs.org. Their extensive and easily searched directory is how many of us found VSC.

My mission on Sunday was to give a short spiel after Communion about CNVS, ask people to donate in the second collection, and then stay after Mass to hand out brochures and answer questions. It was actually pretty easy since CNVS had made all the arrangements with the parish, sent in the brochures, and given me a sample speech. The long day notwithstanding, it was interesting to see the different demographics of every Mass and hear three different homilies on the same readings. The Epistle mentioned a very Vincentian motto - "The love of Christ impels us."

I was also amazed at the unexpected connections I made with people, who was interested in what I had to say. For instance, I met the man who is starting a L'Arche home for the handicapped in St. Louis, and wants to get on the directory. My favorite connection was the soon-to-retire high school Spanish teacher who wants to work with immigrants for a year or two. She's also interested in getting her LPN license so she can do medical screening. Despite all these great ideas, she had no idea where to start. I hope my advice was helpful and that she really does achieve her plan.

It was random encounters such as these that inspired my own year of service. A priest on a retreat advised that I "go do something radical for God." A week later, I ran into a former dorm neighbor on my way to Mass. She told me all about her work with immigrants in New Mexico, and gave a lot of encouragement that a service year was indeed practical. I haven't had contact with those people since, but their affect on my life has been profound.

Happy Father's Day

2009-06-21T18:51:00.002-05:00

I hope all the Fathers out there - both priests and biological- have a wonderful day and know how much they are appreciated.

This is a relief sculpture in St. Francis Xavier College Church depicting St. Joseph, the patron of all fathers. It appears to be just before his death, as his foster son Jesus is pointing upward to Joseph's heavenly destiny.

I'm always touched by St. Joseph's selfless service - caring for Mary and Jesus and then humbly fading into obscurity. We don't even know the details of his death, just that he wasn't around for Jesus' public ministry.
My own Dad is another wonderful example of unselfish protection and caring. He works so hard for us, but doesn't complain or call attention to himself. After a year of working with at-risk families, and hearing so many stories of absent "baby-daddies", I am so grateful that I grew up with two parents who are married to each other and both care deeply for their children.

Some Vincentian Shout-outs

2009-06-18T22:59:00.003-05:00

A big Thank You to Cathy, the VSC secretary for her encouragement about my blogging. She's put links to Sojourn in St. Louis on both the VSC and Daughters of Charity websites. You can click to both those sites on the pictures to the right.

Cathy is not a Daughter, but she helps keep things running smoothly at their Provincial Office. Her biggest help to us VSCs is managing all the paperwork for Americorps, so we get money for student loans when we're done. It's all part of the red tape that comes with non-profit work.

"Let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France" - Ingrid Michhaelson

2009-06-18T13:22:00.002-05:00

I have become flat-out addicted to this song. Yesterday I listened to the last verse three times in a row.
It's just about the cutest thing ever, and reminds me of "If I Had a Million Dollars" by the Barenaked Ladies. Both songs innocently long for wealth that will give security, and the simple things in life. Really, the singers just want to be philanthropists, giving other people houses, cars, monkeys, green dresses... All they want in return is to bask in the comfort of true love.

So give a listen, and see if it doesn't make you want to "give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance."

Sustainable Fashion

2009-06-17T12:41:00.004-05:00

When I started my volunteer year, I knew that "living simply" on a limited budget would require a change in my shopping habits. A lot of the money I made at my college part-time job went toward clothing purchases, many of them not that useful. So, after using my graduation gifts to stock up on some business wear basics, I resolved not to buy retail for a while.
Luckily the California Volunteers are expert thrift store shoppers. Their creative outfits and adventurous spirits inspired me to overcome my fear of second-hand stores. Instead of dreading the ill-fitting castoffs of middle aged women, I have learned to hunt for unique, useful and interesting things. For a total of $20, I have acquired a blouse, cardigan, dress, tote bag, and skirt that are now favorites in my wardrobe.

Avoiding the clothing racks of malls and Target has been good for me. It's made me think about what I actually need and want. It has also increased my sense of personal style. Working with what I already own, I have become more confident about mixing and matching pieces or trying new color combinations. The lovely ladies of academichic and other blogs have provided great inspiration for this.

You could say that I have gotten in on the recent trend of "sustainable fashion." You could also say that NFNF is eco-friendly in the way we "recycle" hundreds of baby outfits and items every year. I don't really worry if my tshirts are organic cotton, but I like the idea of reusing what is already around.

Here's a stylish woman doing that with The Uniform Project. She's wearing 7 copies of the same dress for 365 days, to raise money and awareness for school kids in India. This isn't exactly poverty, since she's going to need an army of loaned accessories to make it all year. Still, I love the idea of the challenge and the resourcefulness it will require. It's also a great show of solidarity with As a fellow veteran of school uniforms, I agree that they are really an opportunity for self-expression.

Today I also learned that my alma mater will be offering a freshman seminar in "ethical fashion." In today's global economy, it is

"all the more necessary for design to be relevant to the communities it represents and serves. In short, sustainable communities produce sustainable clothes—and a community is sustained when its workers earn living wages."

I liked the story of a village in Brazil where women formed a seamstress cooperative, selling traditional fuxico rosettes made from scraps of fabric.

“In essence, the project has helped create the antithesis of the multinational sweatshop. Today, the cooperative works with other prominent designers and labels throughout the world and truly serves as a model for what can happen when you have a greater sense of interconnectedness.”

"To arrive where we started, and know the place for the first time." - TS Eliot, an STL native

2009-06-15T10:30:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was our VSC Year-End Mass of Thanksgiving, a sort-of graduation from this year of service. Our names are now enrolled in the VSC alumni book, bringing us one step closer to leaving St. Louis. Former VSCs, site supervisors, and of course the Daughters of Charity were there. Nicest Boss in the World and even the NFNF CEO were there to cheer me on, so to speak. They almost did so audibly, but then decided it might be inappropriate for church. (See why my office is so much fun?)

These closing ceremonies took place in the same place as our opening Mass: the Daughters' Provincial House chapel. I love this little room in its classical simplicity. The skylight over the altar always reminds me of an impluvium in an ancient Roman atrium. Yesterday the sunlit room was full of pride, tears, and memories. Remember when we first came here? How excited and nervous we were? How we barely knew about each other? How much we had to learn about service? How long a whole year seemed?

And now, in the blink of an eye, it's almost over. We can't stay in VSC forever, and life keeps flowing on to the next stage. We only have to look to the wedding of a VSC the night before to see that Life goes on.
We also saw it in the Daughter who passed away in her sleep that same night. Sr. Mary Patrice "slipped away like she always does, like a cat," one Sister said. A petite former school principal, Patrice was an assistant and dear friend to the VSC director. It's a harsh blow to realize that we won't see her friendly face on our doorstep anymore. God willing, she's smiling up in heaven now instead, beginning her story of eternal life. Her death reminds us all of how short and precious our time on earth is.

Life goes on, and we're back where we started: the love of Jesus pressing us onward.

What they don't show you on the Cathedral tour

2009-06-12T22:40:00.007-05:00

Video of Archbishop Carlson's installation is now online, and I found myself in it! The camera panned across the bell tables twice; near the end of the Gloria and during "Lift High the Cross" at the recessional. I also enjoyed actually seeing what was happening down below while we played our music. Carlson appeared to have tears in his eyes as the Papal bull was read; it was so touching to see how seriously he was undertaking his work here and how the other bishops supported him.

I also noticed that Carlson often mopped his brow with a handkerchief - I was feeling the same way! The choir balcony was a good 15 degrees warmer than below, and our long robes didn't help either. Overheating during mass: another example of the profound irony of liturgy and the Incarnation. Even during the most sublime, profound worship possible, frail human nature interrupts.

Being backstage at the Cathedral gives plenty of glances into ecclesiastical irony. The behind the scenes areas are very different from the glorious mosaics visitors always see. Here's the staircase choir members take to the balcony.

Inside a tower is the only place you'll see brick here.

Drab, cobweby archways contrast with the glittering domes beyond.

This wall is "all" I can see while playing bells. From the left we have:
The Vincentian panel, withBl. Frederic Ozanam and STL SVDP founder Brian Mullanphy.
St. Isaac Joques and Bl. Kateri Tekakwitha, whose upstate NY shrine I have visited
A priest, a minister, and a rabbi representing the Vatican II declaration on religious freedom
Joseph Cardinal Ritter
Sisters and schoolchildren representing the 1947 St. Louis "Racial Justice Decree" and integrations of schools
Bl. Rose Phillipine Duschene, who educated and prayed in rural Missouri

A joyous day for "Rome of the West"

2009-06-10T20:50:00.004-05:00

What a day! I am exhausted and dehydrated and I think I pulled a muscle in my left forearm - but it was AMAZING to be part of Archbishop Carlson's installation ceremonies. Seeing and hearing the Church of St. Louis come together to celebrate was literally awesome. I got goosebumps hearing the Cathedral echo with congregation responses like "Let us give thanks to the Lord our God." Today was a celebration for Catholic America in general; many other bishops attended the installation. There were also Knights of Columbus, Knights of Malta, Knights of Peter Claver, and a Russian Orthodox bishop.

My dear family was there in spirit, watching EWTN coverage for footage of my bell ringing. I was on TV twice! Sadly, the Archdiocese did not include images of us ringers in their installation photo gallery. Here are some other choir members, though. Just picture me in one of these robes.

I love this stunning shot of the altar during the entrance procession. (I also wish Theodora the camera was powerful enough to do this. I'll post my own shots of the Cathedral later.)

Here is our new shepherd! I met Archbishop Carlson at the reception after Solemn Vespers last night. He graciously stood for nearly two hours to greet everyone who wanted to meet him, and did the same thing again today.

Today's brief homily was well-said and inspiring. Unity and facing challenges were some of the main themes. Here are my favorite parts (emphasis mine.)

As the Holy Spirit is poured out upon us, we come to share ever more deeply in the life and mission of Christ — and His glory becomes our glory.
But the glory of Christ is the cross!

We will never compromise our commitment to life!

(Quoting Pope Benedict)" ...the message of hope we are called to proclaim and embody in a world where self-centeredness, greed, violence, and cynicism so often seem to choke the fragile growth of grace in people's hearts."

I will never ordain a man a priest that I do not know.

May your prayerful support and my hope in Jesus Christ fill my heart with compassion, allowing me to draw near to all those who suffer and allow me to bind up the wounds of the poor and build bridges with the alienated as I serve Christ as His disciple and a friend to all.

Let us never forget that, "In the Church there is a diversity of ministries, but there is only one aim — the sanctification of all.” (Blessed Escriva)

The Distractions of Modernity

2009-06-09T11:15:00.006-05:00

John Quincy Adams is one of my favorite presidents. He doesn't deserve obscurity and being the runner-up Adams (although his dad is also a great American). Even though JQA's time in office wasn't astounding, he is certainly one of the most effective ex-Presidents. After leaving the White House, he served in Congress for 17 years and fought against slavery. Now there's a public servant.

The Anchoress at First Things has a great post about JQA today, musing on his intense expressions in portraits, his penchant for skinny-dipping in the Potomac (it's true), and his impatience with being under the Presidential microscope.

“I can scarcely conceive a more harassing, teasing, wearying condition of existence.” If the foibles and nattering ankle biters were that annoying 200 years ago, imagine him being president in the day of internets, blogs, “netroots”, “wingnuts” and 24-hour-always-hungry news networks.
Perhaps it is the technology of the age that has brought affability and a gift for hucksterism to the fore in politics, and rendered them supremely consequential. I wonder how the giants who formed our nation would fare, these days, hunkering down with Chris Matthews and Barbara Walters. Would Ben Franklin’s genius be undermined or enhanced by insta-media? Would John Adams be considered too crotchety, like Bob Dole? Would George Washington be considered too staid? Would Thomas Jefferson have to endure the wrath of Keith Olbermann for daring to play his violin while something was left unresolved in the nation? Would any of them get elected under the intense scrutiny of our age, wherein - as Don Surber notes here - so many are so easily scandalized?

Oh technology. So useful but so distracting. Last night when I got home the power was out on our block. For the first time, I noticed the moonlight and insect chirping that are usually drowned out by streetlights and air conditioners. Conversations by candlelight are more peaceful, too. Surrounded by the warm glow of all the random candles from the reflection room, I finished some VSC year-end paperwork and made notes on my handbell music. I couldn't help thinking that this was how Mozart, Beethoven, and even JQA did their work. Did they get more done without Facebook or 24 hour news?

Some parting words from Sr. Ros

2009-06-08T14:31:00.003-05:00

St. Louis Catholic has posted a great "exit interview" with Sr. Rosalind Moss. It's full of her bubbly personality and deep faith. It also explains why she can wear a postulant habit and call herself "Sister" even though her order is not fully "open for business." (Basically, the Archdiocese said she could.) This wouldn't have been so confusing had Archbishop Burke not been transferred shortly before she was to take her vows. Seeing Sr. Ros's efforts to start an order has been a unique part of the religious life education I've been receiving this year. I like to joke that my nun acquaintance has increased 2000% since I moved to St. Louis.

Random grants of the day

2009-06-08T11:04:00.004-05:00

Another interesting assortment of federal grants today. As always, what I think is weird reveals my liberal arts bias.
Innovative Food Defense programs funded by the FDA and Dept of Agriculture cracked me up - can't you just picture an army of vegetables with spears and shields?
How about abandoned mine bat inventories in Idaho? Sounds like a horror/adventure movie waiting to happen. "I wonder how many bats are down this abandoned mine shaftOHNOoooo.."

And yet, I think it's obvious to fund maintenance of Saint Paul's Church National Historic Site by The Society of the National Shrine of the Bill of Rights. Also, who wouldn't want a $60,000 post-grad historical editing fellowship? Normal people, that's who.

Farewell to bells, Hello to Archbishop Carlson

2009-06-07T17:23:00.005-05:00

Here is the cathedra (bishop's seat) where Robert Carlson will sit as Archbishop of St. Louis for the first time on Wednesday. I can't wait!

I'll be at the Cathedral a lot in the next three days preparing for and performing in my last Mass with the handbell choir. I have never seen our usually cheerful director so excited and anxious. Thanks, Karen, for letting me play even though I was out of town for rehearsal last week. Installation means a lot to me.

Of course, Carlson's arrival will involve a flurry of media attention. We have been instructed to be on our best behavior since the video cameras for EWTN and the live feed will be directly across from the bells. I'll be on the right, ringing the heavy bass clef ones. Apparently AmericanPapist will be providing coverage too - I'll try to spot him.

Recent stories in the Post-Dispatch seem to confirm first impressions that Carlson is a personable, diplomatic man.

"One thing I know is that when you're coming into a community, the last thing you want to do is come in and pretend like you have all the answers," he said.

One source of his compassion and humility is his history of battling cancer and diabetes.

"I always say that God has really blessed me in weakness," Carlson said. "I've learned that I am who I am, that I do some things well, and I make mistakes in other areas."
Carlson said cancer changed his priorities. His career ambitions took a backseat, he said. Instead of spending so much time as an administrator, he wanted to be out in his diocese, among his flock. "Once you almost die, you try to live life as best you can — not because you're afraid of death, but because you got a second chance," Carlson said.

Bizarre Item of the Day

2009-06-05T12:03:00.001-05:00

I'm back in the Lou, just in time to leave town again for the final VSC Renewal Weekend retreat.

Thanks to Southwest layovers at Midway, I've also spent a good 4 hours in Chicago this week. Midways has a great selection of local food available, but I learned in August that no matter how deeply you love Chi-town, a fully loaded beef hot dog before takeoff is not a good idea.

I also love how Mayor Richard M Daley feels the need to personally welcome me to Chicago's airports. That man has a major ego problem, and it's become a running joke in my family. Here's his name on a trash can in the food court.

Woohoo high school!

2009-06-04T00:31:00.007-05:00

Here's a glimpse of the parent paparazzi at my little sister's graduation. It's always good to revisit the tightly-knit community of my uber-Catholic/uber-ProLife high school. Every year since my own graduation is a little different and little more weird as I settle into adulthood. Sign that I am getting old: I was verklempt with pride during my sister's valedictorian speech. My mom and I tearfully clutched each other in our church pew. Another sign that high school is long gone? Some of my classmates had also returned - with their spouses and children.

This weekend was also my sister's dance school's annual recital. We saw performances by everyone from un-coordinated 5 year olds to champion teens. Here are some cool shots I got of the team heading to Nationals. Their solo dresses and wigs were out of control.

My little sister is now officially a high school graduate, after doing a great job on her valedictorian speech. Sign that I am getting old: my mom and I both got verklempt with pride during her address. We sat in the church pew tearfully clutching each other's arm.

Hitting the road

2009-05-27T22:18:00.003-05:00

I'm going to be on blog hiatus for a few days as I visit my family for my sister's graduation and hunt for grad school housing. In the meantime, enjoy this picture of some fun cars. There was a whole crowd of them around Soulard Market a few Saturdays ago. The drivers were all really friendly and waved at me. How could you not be in a good mood on such a gorgeous spring day?

Godspeed, Sr. Ros!

2009-05-26T22:43:00.004-05:00

I usually don't post pictures of myself, but I love this one of Texas Volunteer and me with Sr. Rosalind Moss. This weekend was our first time meeting her in a while. Sadly, it was also the last since the occasion was her goodbye party. She's leaving St. Louis, too, albeit for only a year of novitiate study and training.

Expansion of the Daughters of Mary, Mother of Israel's Hope is on hold while Sr. Ros is in her novitiate. Work renovating her convent and organizing educational materials will go on, thanks to her new administrative assistant and an army of volunteers. Hopefully next summer St. Louis will again see Sr. Ros and some new sisters out and about in full habit, evangelizing the neighborhood. (And hopefully there will soon be more information on the order's website.)

We're really going to miss Sr. Ros. Even thought we've only met her a few times, she always treats us like we are the most important and wonderful people in the world. We put in a few Saturday hours helping around her convent, but went away feeling like we had received ten times what we have given. I don't know what I would have done without her comforting advice the Saturday I messed up on the GRE and was dealing with stress in the VSC community.

Where else could one find a nun with great Jewish humor? (She is a convert, after all.) After hearing my rantings, Sr. Ros turned to Texas Vol and asked "Does she believe in God? Because the way she's talking it sure sounds like she doesn't."
Then she turned back to me. "This is what you do. Go home, write a hundred times on the chalkboard 'Jesus I trust in you. Jesus I trust in you. Even if I don't feel it, Jesus I trust in you.'"

And so I will.

Botanical Gardens

2009-05-26T22:09:00.006-05:00

This weekend a couple of us finally took advantage of our Botanical Gardens season passes. I'm so glad we did! Even after several hours of walking we still hadn't seen all the different gardens and flowers. Daylilies were done blooming, but roses were out in full force.

I really liked this statue of Juno in a formal garden. (The goddess queen, not the snarky pregnant teenager). The Victorian observatory tower is in the distance.

The English Woodland garden was more informal and organic-looking. We really appreciated the shade!

Bizarre Item of the Day

2009-05-23T14:31:00.002-05:00

Last week when I posted pictures of Papa Benny with adorable kids, I did a Google image search for "Pope Benedict baby." This is what I found.

This is El Colacho, Spanish a baby-jumping festival that has been happening in Castillo de Murcia since 1620.The guy leaping over the infants represents the devil. Supposedly this Knieval-esque stunt helps cleanse the babies of original sin and guarantee them safety in life.

Pope Benedict has advised Spanish priests to stay away from this dubious and obviously dangerous festival. Good call.

Abortion, Slavery and Obama

2009-05-22T16:50:00.000-05:00

Continuing my week-long reflection on pro-life issues, I'd like to make some historical analogies. Considering abortion in American often sends my brain running for context from the past.

Abortion is the slavery of our times. Consider the similarities: a moral evil opposed by much of the population, but still supported as a right by many and protected by law. The lives and fate of one section of humanity (African-Americans, fetuses) fall under the authority of others.
Debates over this issue sharply divide the political sphere. Some people live close to the issue and feel passionately about it. For those who don't encounter it everyday, it's not as big a deal.

For instance, a Southern planter might have defended slavery as part of his right to property and prosperity, but a Northern factory worker would have been more concerned with his own family than whatever happens in other states. Similarly, I think abortion is not a part of daily life for most Americans. Women don't normally go around telling all their friends that they terminated a pregnancy last weekend. Sometimes the staggeringly large abortion statistics seem as far away as genocide in Darfur. Sometimes the really intense pro-lifers with bloody fetus posters seem too extreme, but that's when I remember that the abolitionist movement housed some pretty intense members as well. (See: John Brown and his military raids.)

All this talk about Obama at ND and the importance of dialogue, not demonizing, also turns me to slavery. When I took a course on "Museums and Slavery," I again learned the importance of words. Call them "enslavers", not "masters," or "owners." Don't use the passive voice about plantation chores - "the cotton was picked" by whom?? Enslaved people, who deserve as much attention as their wealthy enslavers. Our racially mixed-class had some fantastic discussions. Even though we had different backgrounds, we kept a respectful tone and learned a lot about each other. I still don't mind Confederate flag bumper stickers on pickup trucks, but I'm more sensitive now to how people can find them offensive.

Of course, our discussions were helped by the fact that we all agreed slavery was wrong. What about dialogue with enslavers? A constant dilemma for American historians is the fact that most of our country's founders indeed held other persons as property. Dealing with this again requires some respect. Instead of writing them all off as irrelevant bigoted white men, we honor their achievements while critiquing their personal practices. We also find comfort in the "good" ones who didn't treat enslaved workers cruelly. (See: George Washington freeing his slaves in his will)

This paradox is most evident in my pal Thomas Jefferson. Here we have a very intelligent, accomplished man who crafted beautiful words about our country, but also enslaved many of his fellow Americans. Monticello has embraced this paradox since Sally Hemings became a household name. Visitors to Jefferson's estate today are urged to ponder how one could write about liberty yet deny it to others.

In some ways Obama reminds me of Jefferson - they are both intelligent, well spoken champions of religious pluralism. How can our current President speak eloquently about protecting the weak and defenseless and yet condone the murder of our most vulnerable Americans? Maybe because, like Jefferson, he grew up in a culture where a moral evil was widely accepted.

Bizarre item of the day

2009-05-22T09:34:00.000-05:00

Every so often Nicest Boss in the World asks me to sort through notification emails of recently announced federal grants. Today's didn't have anything related to what NFNF does, but it did offer some interesting science opportunities.

$90,000 for "a cooperative agreement with the University of Wyoming to conduct Wyoming pocket gopher surveys and to refine the current potential distribution map for the species."

up to $380,000 for "collection of data to describe long-term trends in densities of the Mojave population of the desert tortoise where it occurs in Nevada and California."

These sound ridiculous to me, but then I remember one of my bio major friends in college. Her senior thesis was the result of 2 years in a lab studying the fertility of fruit flies. Now she's in graduate school, where her future career depends on crayfish. So somewhere out there, gopher and tortoise experts are high-fiving each other and dreaming of new equipment to take out in the field.

Vigil for Justice

2009-05-19T23:48:00.005-05:00

Last night was a sad one for Missouri - Governor Jay Nixon approved the first state execution since 2005, ending the life of Dennis Skillicorn. Skillicorn earned the death sentence for being an accessory in a murder he did not know his friend was about to commit. What is truly tragic about this decision is that Dennis was worth more to Missouri alive than dead. Since his conviction, he turned from his "first life" of drugs and crime to a "second life" of faith and community activism. In the Potosi prison, Skillicorn organized a hospice care system for terminally-ill prisioners, created educational and visiting programs for children of inmates, and authored a book admonishing juveniles to make good choices in life. Skillicorn was a shining example of how the prison system can make rehabilitation possible, but that same system has killed off its model product.

All of us VSC girls have become concerned about the unfairness of the death penalty thanks to Pittsburgh Volunteer's work in the SVDP Criminal Justice Ministry. So, we headed to the prayer vigil happening on the steps of SLU's College Church last night.

My high school self would have thought this a hippie activity, but hey, when else can you be a hippie except when you are young and living in an convent commune. Those attending included the Jesuit Volunteers, some Daughters of Charity, and some people who indeed looked like aging hippies. But there were also people whose own lives have been impacted by the criminal justice system going awry. For instance, this man being interviewed by a reporter was recently exonerated of a false murder charge.

Current criticism of the death penalty is another example of how defending human life requires you to address social problems. Are innocent people sentenced to death? It does happen. People on death row are not necessarily the worst criminals, they just couldn't afford a lawyer good enough to finagle an easier sentence. Why isn't life in a high-security prison enough to protect the public? Do executions solve the problem of murder?

I don't think so. Skillicorn's death doesn't remove the pain of those people his friend killed, or bring back the innocent victims. I'll never forget seeing chilling news coverage of Timothy McVeigh's execution for the Oklahoma City bombing. The victim's families were still sad and still hurting. A few other people were out for vengeance, but just once death wasn't satisfying enough. "Next we need to get Terry Nichols!" one guy told the cameras. He seemed thrilled by the idea of deciding who dies.

Notre Dame and the power of words

2009-05-18T21:34:00.005-05:00

Well, it's finally over. President Obama gave the commencement address at Notre Dame, where the administration welcomed, coddled, and lauded him despite his pro-abortion voting record. Personally, I'm rather sick of the story. My immediate impulse is sympathy with the student body whose special day has been tainted by controversy. I know what it is like when your college president invites a media firestorm by messing with religious identity.

Of course I am also dismayed that a Catholic University's president make a decision protested by 70+ of the country's bishops. Mary Ann Glendon gets major points in my book for turning down the Latare Medal, thereby refusing to be a pawn in ND President Fr. Jenkins' Catholic identity fiasco. Being the token pro-lifer on the dais, responsible for balancing out whatever the President said, would have been a burden, not an honor.

By and large, President Obama did what he does best - he said lots of pretty, comforting, even inspiring things in the hopes that people would like him. He plugged his usual agenda of "Let's all lend a hand and be one big happy family." Literally: "In short, we must find a way to live together as one human family. " I find it patronizing that he calls embryonic stem-cell research opponents "admirable," not daring to clarify that he also thinks we are "wrong."

His arguements reinforced my impression that pandering is what Obama does best. Even if he disagrees with you, he'll reword his campaign website to make it seem better. He'll promise NARAL he'll sign FOCA the minute he's in office, and then put that bill on the back burner. (If a politician did that to the Pro-Life movement he'd never hear the end of it.) I was reminded of what good old Professor Tiefel's catch-phrase: "No one gives up a good word!" Obama know this, too. That's why he called for "Open hearts. Open minds. Fair minded words." Who could disagree with such pretty, comforting statements? You don't know exactly what they mean, but they sure sound better than "hard-hearted" and "unfair."

People on both sides of the ND controversy chose their words carefully, too. The NYT's icky commencement article decided that "heckler" was the best word for those who disagreed with our pretty, comforting leader. Those bloody images of mutilated infants outside campus? They were only "fetus pictures." Sounds nearly sterile.
A few of these "hecklers" opted for forceful words, telling Obama exactly what they thought of him. "Stop killing our children!" Did calling a spade a spade rattle the President's conscience? Maybe. I liked American Papist's Twitter observation that he has never seen Obama look less happy than when giving that speech.

At times I wonder if such forceful moral condemnation is effective. Moral outrage at abortion is so often repeated, it has become commonplace. To most Americans, abortion is something they rarely encounter directly, so cries of "baby killer" do seem like hysterical caricatures. I don't know how someone could see one of those bloody baby pictures and not be disgusted by abortion, but apparently they can. Does the Pro-Life movement need to expand its vocabulary?

The way I see it, revulsion at President Obama's fluffy doublespeak about the Golden Rule and fairness is blinding Pro-Lifers to potential progress. Obama's proposals are not all junk; what's wrong with "making adoption more available, and providing care and support for women who do carry their child to term"? If Roe v. Wade were overturned tomorrow, the cultural, moral, and economic issues that lead women to abortion would still exist. If we want women to choose life, we need to make adopting a child or obtaining maternal medical care less difficult. Let's encourage America to embrace loving solutions to the challenges of pregnancy. We are Pro-Life, not just anti-death.

Faces in time

2009-05-15T10:55:00.005-05:00

Photographing a great candid action shot is so hard. I like architectural photography because your subjects will hold still! Theodora the camera often can't keep up with fast motion in dim lighting.
Still, I love seeing what other, more skilled photographers can do. News coverage of public figures has great potential for fun images, producing an historical record that is more detailed and more accessible with each passing year.

The White House now has a Flickr photostream, with a new set of the President's First 100 Days in office. Photographer Pete Souza has done marvelous work capturing moments in history that are full of personality. Such as:

A sweet but also awkward "private moment in a freight elevator."

A lovely shot of the White House in the snow

And this candid shot of a budget session that just cracks me up. Was there a memo to coordinate the orange ties? Did someone forget to bring an important document? Do they realize FDR is grinning over their shoulders?

Ok, that's enough Obama, even if he is terribly photogenic. I've also been enjoying Whispers in the Loggia's full coverage of Pope Benedict XVI's trip to the Middle East. I may not have read all the Holy Father's speeches yet (they pile up like New Yorker back issues or online TV episodes), but I have relished all the pictures.

Here's my favorite - Papa Benny with medically fragile babies! His statements at Caritas Baby Hospital in Bethlehem could have been about NFNF as well.

"this institution has remained a quiet oasis for the most vulnerable, and has shone as a beacon of hope that love can prevail over hatred and peace over violence...Mary, Health of the Sick, Refuge of Sinners, Mother of the Redeemer: we join the many generations who have called you “Blessed”. Listen to your children as we call upon your name...We ask your Son Jesus to bless these children and all children who suffer throughout the world. May they receive health of body, strength of mind, and peace of soul. But most of all, may they know that they are loved with a love which knows no bounds or limits: the love of Christ which surpasses all understanding (cf. Eph 3:19). Amen."

There are also some darling pictures of the lucky children in Amman who received their first Holy Communion from the Pope. I love how tiny this fellow looks compared with the kneeler.

And this girl is a portrait of happy peace.

In which God is patient with my grumpiness

2009-05-15T10:33:00.003-05:00

I have a confession to make - sometimes I don't love serving the poor. Sometimes it's frustrating and boring.
For instance, the least favorite parts of my job are furniture requests. Sometimes we have a client fleeing a bad home situation or moving on from a shelter who desperately needs a bed to sleep on. Hoping to give me more direct interaction with clients, Nicest Boss in the World gives these jobs to me. Unfortunately, finding a free couch or bed is not fun times. Most charities are limited to food pantries and utility assistance. Just last week, one of my reliable referrals was decidedly not nice, telling a client that they were sick of us referring to them.
So today, when I got an email from a nurse about a 17-year old mother of a toddler who is trying to flee a home plagued with drugs and possible sexual abuse, I cringed. I knew Nicest Boss in the World would tell me to help, but I didn't know where to turn. I was out of ideas.

Naturally, I turned to the cubicle next door to whine to Intern #2. "I can help you," she said. It turns out that since she got married, she has a bunch of extra kitchen stuff. Her parents have extra furniture they are about to send to Goodwill.
Then a light bulb went off in my head - Craiglist! That's another place where people get rid of old couches. Sure enough, there are couple people around STL looking to get rid of furniture. Why didn't I think of this sooner?

Again, Divine Providence has patiently heard my griping and turned it into inspiration. I've often quipped that if started a non-profit, it would collect furniture donations. Seriously, why couldn't I? Renting a garage or storage unit would be the hardest start-up cost. I'd probably have to befriend someone with a truck, too. Then I could put ads in church bulletins, respond to Craigslist postings and network with homeless shelters. This time of year would be prime season, since college grads are about to start throwing out futons with wild abandon.

What do you think, 2.5 readers? Would this work?

"And so what we have learned applies to our lives today" - Veggie Tales

2009-05-13T15:16:00.003-05:00

The VSC house has been entertaining several prospective volunteers lately. I'm excited to see next year's VSC roster slowly accumulate. I also enjoy how talking with these girls makes us reflect on our own expereinces.

Our most recent guest asked a rather random question: "Have you changed after doing a volunteer year?"
My first reaction was "Yeah, I actually hate poor people now....what do you think we'd say??"
How could we leave college, move to a new city, start full time jobs, and not change?

But seriously, how we have changed is the interesting answer. There are little ways, like my new obsession with brown rice and the fact that I have actually thought owning a dog would be fun. All of us now know tons of Vincentian Saint trivia, and some of the volunteers want to continue careers in their work now. Others, myself included, are drawn to another life calling.

In many ways, this year has paid off as I hoped. I have seen a new part of the country, lived in a city, and learned about how the poor live there. The result is a greater solidarity with and awareness of the people around me. It wasn't until I met teenage mothers, entered their homes, and drove their streets that I comprehended some of the complexity of their lives. I didn't truly appreciate my loving, nuturing parents until I saw the results of neglect and abuse. Leaving my bubble has changed me.

This change can go both ways, though. A while back some clients in NFNF's Healthy Start, a federally-funded project, got to accompany the program directors on a trip to DC. Healthy Start staff are still talking about how exciting it was to see these moms explore the new world of politics in a new city. Clients attended workshops, shook hands with congressmen, and took pictures in front of the Capitol building. They told lawmakers about the changes Healthy Start had brought to their lives, and the future changes (school, jobs,) that they hoped to make.

I hope these women and I continue to benefit from seeing the world outside our neighborhood bubble.

Looking for the best of both worlds

2009-05-11T19:18:00.009-05:00

This past Saturday I went on a mission to find Confession available in the morning, and my ensuing adventure ended up symbolizing my current feelings on the Liturgy and church architecture. Here's what happened.

Act I: Knowing that I had two Tower Grove kickball games in the afternoon, I perused the Archdiocesan website for AM Confession. You would think in a town with Catholic churches every mile or so there would be plenty, but that was not the case. Interestingly, the only parishes offering Absolution before lunch were housed in very mid-century modern buildings. There has to be some symbolism there.

Act II: At 9AM I drove down unexplored South City streets to St. Stephen the Protomartyr in Holly Hills. (10 points for the multi-syllabic name.) Upon arriving, I found many parishioners - Knights of Columbus?- hard at work landscaping. The church appeared to be one of those "Chicago Style" places where the school came first (1931). After decades of Mass in the school basement or auditorium, the "real" church was completed in 1962.

I'm always fascinated by these barely Pre-Vatican II churches. They retain the bare bones of a traditional structure, but also try hard to be hip with the times. The floorplan is still cruciform and confessionals are still booths, but everything is very simple and streamlined. Artwork is present, but minimalist or stylized.

My new Protomartyr friend certainly delivered on the geometric shapes and non-traditional stained-glass. I think the window depicts St. Stephen having his heavenly vision.

I felt right at home in this modernist place, but I was a little put off by the commotion of altar guild ladies watering plants and whatnot. (I was also afraid they would yell at me for taking pictures.) Confession was also, um, interesting. The priest curtly rushed through his advice, like he was annoyed to be in a penitential box at this hour of the morning. It was rather ironic to have someone bark at me to trust in God and go "get to know Jesus better" in prayer. Something must have been bothering this impatient man. Maybe the altar guild ladies had been nagging him.

So I went to a pew for my reflective penance... and I could. not. pray. Between the plant-watering and chatting in the sacristy and lurking tabernacle in the back corner, I couldn't really concentrate on Jesus. So I took a few pictures and left.

Act III: I had been planning to photograph the Old Cathedral anyway, so I went up the highway to the riverfront. The Basilica of St. Louis the King is the oldest cathedral west of the Mississippi, completed in 1834. Its elegant neo-classical interior is unusual in this city.

Ahh, much better. It was easy to spot Jesus here.

Some tourists milled about, but they paid heed to the sign requesting "reverent silence." We smiled at each other as we walked by the statues and other artwork. Two women arranged flowers for a wedding later in the day, but they spoke in hushed tones.

Kneeling in the warm sunshine that poured in the west windows, I spent longer than my required 10 minutes of "get to know Jesus time."

Finis: So there you have my current Eucharistic mental dilemma. Respect and appreciation, but also skepticism for the spare modern buildings and cheesy guitar hymns that formed me as a Christian. A longing for reverent silence and beauty that is welcoming, not intimidating.

What do you think? Which church do you like better?

We got your Pampers right here, ma'am.

2009-05-11T10:18:00.005-05:00

Via LoLSaints.

Yes, Mary, Nurses for Newborns could hook you up with some free diapers, and maybe even some housing referrals while we're at it.
Of course, as we all learned at the Vincentian Family Gathering, free stuff is not enough! Engagement and relationships are crucial to helping people learn to improve their lives. Luckily, Joseph had an angelic case worker who would appear when needed.

Happy Mother's Day!

2009-05-10T19:47:00.009-05:00

Many thanks and hugs to all mothers today, especially to my own Mom who has been so encouraging during my volunteering adventures. I'm a little sad I can't be with her back home today.

Mother's Day reminds me of all the moms my grant-writing helps, who are often struggling to raise their children. It also makes me think about how working in an office full of women who constantly deal with pregnancies has taught me a lot about the *ahem* more graphic parts of motherhood. When this year is done, I'm going to have to remind myself that childbirth and breast feeding are not normally lunchroom topics of conversation.

Mother's Day is also a time to remember the great example of selfless love we have in Mary, the Blessed Mother. Here are some images of her from my church photography binge this weekend.
First, here's the side altar to Mary at the Old Cathedral of St. Louis the King near the riverfront. The scene in the center depicts Mary's coronation as Queen of Heaven, and the

A side altar to Mary at the Cathedral Basilica on Lindell.

Finally, a statue of St. Anne, mother of Mary and my Mom's Confirmation Saint

"I was in prison, and you visited me." - Matthew 25

2009-05-07T09:26:00.005-05:00

This year I have learned a lot about how criminalization of the poor does little to solve crime or poverty. Immigrants or teenagers turn to selling drugs or prostitution because they see no other options for survival. If they get caught and sent to jail, they'll have trouble affording or even understanding the legal system. Once they are released, they are again penniless and homeless. This time, though, they are branded with a criminal record that scares employers away. So what are their options for survival? Crime again.

There are no easy solutions to this cycle of poverty, but understanding how it works is the first step. A NYT Op-Ed today by Nicholas Kristoff shines some light on the tragic teen prostitution in our own country.

If a middle-class white girl goes missing, radio stations broadcast amber alerts, and cable TV fills the air with “missing beauty” updates. But 13-year-old black or Latina girls from poor neighborhoods vanish all the time, and the pimps are among the few people who show any interest.

Kristoff cites the example of Jasmine, a young woman who was a prostitute at age 14. She was abused by her pimp and even had undercover cops extort sex from her.

Today Jasmine is 21 and changing her life thanks to...Covenant House! (Texas Volunteer works at their St. Louis location.) Jasmine's story of a broken home and search for love and security reminded me of the Let's Start women. Last month we heard these ladies share their journeys out of addiction, crime, and poverty. Yes, they needed to stop their illegal activities. What they needed more, though, was a sense that they had value, dignity, and the ability to change their own lives.

Price Tags

2009-05-05T11:13:00.005-05:00

I've been doing a bit of research for financial data lately, and of course loving the quest for journal articles and accurate footnotes. (Or is it feetnote?) Medical topics are still a new area for me, so it's a learning process.

Prenatal care is an issue that makes me feel good - what's more pro-life than encouraging women to care for the children in their wombs? Nutrition and regular checkups prevent low birth weights, medical complications, and even infant death. They even help save money in the long run:

1998 RAND study determined that first year care for a very low birth weight baby costs an additional $59,700. A birth weight increase of 250 grams saves an average of $12,000-$16,000.

This statistic is great for grant writing. It shows that our foundation's prenatal education is cost-effective and good for the community. It can convince a potential donor that their money will be well spent.
This statistic is also dangerous. Without the proper perspective, it can evaluate fragile lives in terms of dollar signs. Reading more of that RAND study, you can learn that "The costliest treatment was incurred by infants who survived their initial hospitalization but died before their first birthday: Those infants cost an average of $112,120." Should we infer that those 112,000 dollars were wasted? Or should we be proud that the American medical system can care for the most vulnerable among us?

Taken to extremes, a pragmatic view of medical costs and human lives leads to government ordered slaughter. Just look at China. I've heard their one-child policy called practical, necessary, and realistic.
It also is not without consequences. I'm terribly impressed with left-leaning Slate for addressing the sixteen million girls missing from China's population. These babies were aborted because they were not boys. As their generation enters adulthood - big surprise- parents are having trouble finding wives for precious sons. What once seemed practical for Chinese society is now kicking them in the butt.

Even more chilling was the Slate story on"The terrible things that happen to surrogate mothers in China."

In the southern Chinese city of Guangzhou, three young surrogate first-time mothers were discovered by authorities hiding in a communal flat. Soon afterwards, district family planning and security officers broke into the flat, bundled them into a van and drove them to a district hospital where they were manhandled into a maternity ward, the mothers recounted to Reuters. "I was crying 'I don't want to do this'," said a young woman called Xiao Hong, who was pregnant with four-month-old twins. "But they still dragged me in and injected my belly with a needle," the 20-year-old told Reuters. ... Another of the surrogates, who said she'd come from a village in Sichuan province, recounted how officers made her take pills then surgically removed her three-month-old fetus while she was unconscious.

This is what can happen when order and efficiency are valued over human beings. Babies can be bought and sold through the surrogate system, but the government only sees regulation of commerce. To them, the fetuses (aka desperately wanted children) are merely contraband goods to be destroyed.
That's why this grant research number-crunching only goes so far. Overall, NFNF measures success in saved lives, healthy babies, and empowered parents. Human capital is the most important kind.

Craigslist and material culture

2009-05-04T23:21:00.004-05:00

I just finished a much-needed long phone conversation with my Mom, in which we discussed my immunization records, Latin Mass, and what dresses I should wear for my sister's graduation weekend, among other things.

St. Joseph was another topic of conversation. Mom often entrusts our family's needs to him, including the funds she keeps under his statue in the living room. (It really is handy when you are looking for gas money or your birthday check from Grandma.) Anyway, Friday was the feast of St. Joseph the worker, and he brought our family two blessings that day. My sister got enough financial aid to go to college, and some money turned up to buy a larger dresser for Brothers #2 and #3.

The dresser came from Craigslist through the daughter of its deceased former owner. As my brothers filled it with tshirts and socks, they discovered the artifacts of this woman's life - mostly prayer cards. One, "Prayer for those living alone," clued them in that she was a widow. They know her name from her BJ's Club shopping card. The dresser even smells like her because sachets and baby powder line the drawers.
Just another reminder of how the stuff we leave behind gives clues about the lives we lived.

Vote for me!

2009-05-04T10:00:00.000-05:00

Shameless self-promotion time here. I entered myself in the Cannonball Awards competition on The Crescat. (I also nominated some other people so I am not completely self-centered. Phew.)

This is an offbeat contest created to honor the lesser-known Catholic blogs out there. If you are one of my 2.5 regular readers, or even if you randomly stumbled across this post, please head over to the "Best New Kid on the Block" category and vote for me in the poll!

"The branches are green and the fields are muddy" - Easter song from my childhood

2009-05-04T00:01:00.007-05:00

So now I can Arkansas to the list of "Places I Have Been"And I understand why they call it "God's Country." The was the view at the top of our hike.

The weather was too unpredictable for us to venture on the water like these hard-core fishermen.

So this was our posture most of the weekend. There was even cable TV! It doesn't take much to entertain you when have been "living simply" all year.

At least all that rain makes things grow.

"How far away, Little Rock, ARK." - South Pacific

2009-05-01T16:03:00.003-05:00

Thanks to the fact that gas no longer costs $4 a gallon, the VSC has been able to save a lot of our transportation stipends this year. It's tradition for this communal surplus to go toward road trips or other fun activities.

This weekend we're using some of the slush fund to head down to Arkansas, aka "God's Country" or "The Middle of Nowhere" depending on how you view it. On of the California Volunteers' parents operate a fishing resort on two rivers there, and they are letting us use one of their cabins. VSC has a long tradition of Razorback volunteers, but I have never been to Arkansas before.

It should be a good time of VSC bonding. We had visions of lying out in the sun and canoing, but the forecast looks like this weekend will be more like Thunderstorm Fest 2009. (Free admission for kids on Sunday, $1 hot dogs, thrilling monster truck show!) I'm bringing 3 books just in case things get super-soggy and we stay cooped-up.

St. Francis de Sales, "The Cathedral of South St. Louis"

2009-04-29T23:05:00.002-05:00

I've often driven past this beautiful church on my way to pick up San Jose Volunteer from her child care job, but I never saw the interior until this past Sunday. Texas Volunteer and I ventured out to the Extraordinary Form (Pre-Vatican II) Latin High Mass at the St. Francis de Sales Oratory. It was my first time at a Mass like that. Despite my growing interest in the EF and my knowledge of Latin, I had mixed emotions when I actually experienced it. It was confusing and frustrating to worship in a way almost completely unlike the Masses I know. I'll have to give the EF another try after I have learned more about it.

Luckily the architecture of the church was easy to love. This soaring Gothic Revival building was completed in 1908 and is now on the National Register of Historic Places. German dedications on the stained glass windows remind vistors of the immigrants who labored to build the church.

The 300-foot steeple is visible from several blocks away but badly in need of repair. There's a capital campaign underway to help restore "The Leaning Tower of St. Louis." It was so windy on Sunday we thought the tower mightjust blow over!

Inside, the 52-foot reredos makes the sanctuary the focal point and draws the eye upward. The statues of Mary and John at the Crucifixion remind worshipers what the Mass is all about.
The intricately carved pulpit on the left has panels depicting the four Evangelists.

The angels are watching the Mass too!

I was very impressed by the diligence and reverence of all the altar boys. Maybe if we had sat in a pew this close up the 130-foot aisle we would have a had a better idea of what was going on at Mass.

The nave is also full of artwork and symbolism. Here's the Annunciation fresco in the left transept, above the side altar to the Infant of Prague

Fresco of the Fall of Man in the right transept. The side altar honors Our Lady of Perpetual Help, a patroness of the Institute of Christ the King which staffs the St. Francis de Sales Oratory.

A Sunday of Mass Confusion

2009-04-29T18:38:00.000-05:00

Since my Facebook status about this got so much attention, I think I need an entire note to give the full story.

Today I went to an Extraordinary Form High Mass (Traditional Latin/Tridentine/1962 missal etc) for the first time. They have EF masses every week at St. Francis de Sales, this gorgeous Gothic church in south city. One of my roommates works at the child care center next door, so I've always wanted to check it out. I've also gotten hooked on some Catholic blogs that are big fans of the EF - especially Fr. Z's astute writing at WDTPRS.com

There were a lot of things I enjoyed about the Mass - the sense of mystery, reverence and sacred space, the meditative sounds of chant from the choir loft, the priest's *ad orientem* posture that emphasizes the Mass as sacrifice. I even got up the guts to cover my head, which was actually pretty cool. (Stella, I used the shawl from your wedding which I thought was MUCH cuter than all those lace triangles.)

BUT there were also aspects of the Mass that I just about hated. The biggest problem was that we couldn't hear the priest AT ALL, so even if we were diligently following along in our red booklets we had no idea WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON???? We were sitting toward the back, so the only sounds we caught were the many restless children and the always-droning organ. Still, you'd think they would make better use of the sound system that was there.

I was very very frustrated. I thought I was well-prepared. I've been to the Novus Ordo in Latin. Heck, I took a 300-level Latin course in college. I was prepared for the fact that I wouldn't be saying many responses and would need to mentally participate. But to be completely oblivious for most of the Mass? That was maddening and humbling.

So my little brain started ticking away and thinking all these semi-traitorous thoughts that would have made the women in mantillas smack me.
First, I realized that the 1962 rite did need reform. Adding Old Testament readings and more "audience participation" was a good call. I could see how someone observing a Mass pre-Vat II could come away with the impression that Catholic worship is full of goofy, secretive, empty ritual. I could see how there seems like too much emphasis on the priest and servers, to the point that the people in pews don't really need to be there. And do the people in the pews really understand and appreciate what is going on?

Then my historian brain started churning and I suddenly really, really sympathized with the Methodists and Baptists and dozens of other denominations who wanted to get rid of the trappings of religion and just let non-seminary graduates preach in big tent revivals. By the end of the 2 hour Mass I was ready to belt out some good Protestant style hymns rather than sit still in confusion.

So yeah, overall, my first EF Mass was nice, but not the glorious, sublime, vastly superior experience its fans make it out to be. I am still a child of the Novus Ordo, even if I do like Latin chant. I'll give the EF another chance one day, maybe at a different parish. Maybe after I do some serious reading about all the CRAZY vestments the priest was wearing. Also why are the altar boys always touching his sleeve, shoulder, etc?

Oh dear, is it really time for this?

2009-04-29T14:43:00.003-05:00

It's annoying to say, but time really is flying by. April is practically over, and that means we have only about 2 months left in our VSC year! Volunteers for next year are already lining up. We current volunteers are realizing that we will soon, even though the weather is growing more beautiful and being outdoors in St. Louis is becoming more fun everyday.

Since the calendar is rapidly swallowing my free weekends, I need to make a list of "must do"St. Louis things before I leave. So far I have already seen/done

The Arch
Anheuser Busch Factory Tour
Missouri History Museum
St. Louis Art Museum
City Museum
Old St. Louis Cathedral
Ted Drewes' frozen custard
Italian food at Ragazzi's on The Hill
cheap happy hour food in the Central West End
many, many meals in The Loop (Fitz's, Blueberry Hill, etc. etc.)
Cardinals game in Busch Stadium
Blues game in the Scottrade Center
Walking through Forest Park
Kickball League in Tower Grove Park

But I still should get to:

Botanical Gardens
Forest Park Zoo
Science Center
paddle boats in Forest Park
outdoor theater at the Muny
movies at the Moolah, Tivoli
Soulard Farmers Market
Bellefontaine Cemetery
"The Rock" Church/ 2 hour Gospel music Mass
St. Francis Xavier/SLU College Church
that log cabin church in Cahokia Texas Volunteer wants to visit
actually doing good photo shoots of the Cathedral and local parishes now that I have my tripod in town

Not. Enough. Time. To be. A good. St. Louisan.
(Although really, the only way to become a true St. Louisan is to grow up in your grandparents' house here and then attend a notable high school.)

This is what non-profit management looks like

2009-04-25T15:04:00.003-05:00

This was our office kitchen at lunchtime on Friday. See what a ridiculous amount of free food is always lying around? We have Easter candy co-workers wanted to unload, leftovers from the early morning Board of Directors meeting, a volunteer's leftover birthday cake, and the bread from someone's lunch sandwiches.

It's a good thing for me most of it is gluten. (Although GF Nurse did bring me a fudge cupcake!)

I'd like say I stuck to the fruit bowl, but those mini Cadbury eggs were calling me.

"Give me your arms for the brokenhearted"-Brandon Heath

2009-04-23T19:47:00.003-05:00

In the VSC house we have dinner and prayer as a group 3 times a week. Tonight New York Volunteer was in charge of prayer, and did a great job as always. You can always tell her teaching background by the handouts and visual aids she prepares. She started with this song by Brandon Heath, which gets stuck in your head and urges you to share God's compassion.

Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
Ones that are far beyond my reach.
Give me your heart for the ones forgotten
Give me your eyes so I can see.

I once wished I had's God's ability to constantly be present with and know the heart of every person. I'd be so good at staying in touch with all my friends then! Really, this isn't practical for us mere humans. We can't internalize everyone's life story or we'd explode. The trick is to recognize God in the people we meet, if only for the second that they cross our paths.

This idea happens everyday at my job. Maybe it's becuase the Nicest Boss in the World is constantly affirming other people, and it's rubbing off on me. Maybe it's because we try to thank visitors like every donation is the best one ever. Whatever the reason, I love learning the stories of the people who stop by NFNF.

This morning Nicest Boss in the World and I helped two elderly women unload bags of baby clothes from their van. We offered a tour, and one woman asked if her service dog could come. Of course he could! So we welcomed a furry visitor wearing a "Don't Pet Me - I'm Working" vest. He had been abandoned, but some kind soul trained him to offer balance and protection to his fragile new owner.

Later in the day our Development Director walked up cradling a napping baby girl. This precious infant had come with her foster mom, who raises the girl's 7 year old brother and her own 6 year old son besides. I can't imagine taking in additional children only to let them go in a few months, but it's such an important job. The foster mom is white and the baby is African-American, but that's not really important. What is special is that the foster mom's son is learning to welcome and care for vulnerable people, if only for a brief moment.

St. John's Retreat Center in Plymouth, MI

2009-04-21T22:24:00.008-05:00

Ok, we really didn't hang out in the swanky hotel lobby during the Vincentian Family Gathering, but I did get to spend some time with interesting church architecture.

According to a brochure at the front desk, the main chapel is done in an "almost-Medieval" adaptation of the Umbrian Style. Dedicated in 1955, it served as the chapel for St. John's Seminary until the school closed in 1988. (And was converted into a retreat center/popular wedding location, I assume.)

I liked that the Woman clothed with the Sun is depicted on the left- hand part of the mosaic.

Pews were in a choir arrangement. Note the marble inlaid floors. The walls are rough-textured Mankato stone and the pews are oak. (Hopefully after grad school I can throw around terms like that more easily.)

The Holy Family Chapel for daily Mass is definitely more modern. The room is a rectangle, but seating is in the round.

The tile circle patterns echo the patio tiles of the Mary garden outside. Overall the effect of the basement setting is coziness, not claustrophobia.

The tabernacle chapel? nook? was full of lovely sunlight and featured icons of Mary and Joseph. All the artwork in the chapel was printed on lucite and lit from behind.

This is a nice surprise

2009-04-21T14:20:00.000-05:00

The VSC secretary just informed me that yesterday's post on the Vincentian Family Gathering has been quoted on FamVin, the international Vincentian family website. Wow! Frankly, I'm flattered that Fr. John and his team found me and thought I was worth mentioning.

If you are visiting from there, welcome! This started out as a private blog of sorts, but now I write for a more general audience. I always like to see more visitors to my little corner of the Catholic blogosphere :D Please feel free to leave comments and/or visit me again!

Finally, a new Archbishop!

2009-04-21T11:35:00.000-05:00

Exciting news this morning:

Pope Benedict XVI announced the appointment of The Most Rev. Robert J. Carlson as Archbishop of St. Louis. Bishop Carlson is currently Bishop of the Diocese of Saginaw Michigan.

Huzzah!!! By all accounts I have seen, Bishop Carlson is a dedicated pastor who did great work encouraging priestly vocations and Catholic schools in Saginaw.

This excellent article gives many clues about Carlson's pastoral approach:

Carlson is said to be distressed when he meets Catholics who have worked to advance their knowledge of professional skills and a wide range of topics from politics, hobbies, cooking to sports but have made no effort as an adult to learn about their faith. Those letter writers showed “clear examples of the erosion in Catholic formation for the last two generations,”

Those words speak to what I have observed in the Church during my few months here. St. Louis is a very Catholic town in terms of lovely buildings, tall steeples, and prestigious private high schools, but many STL natives make their faith only a nominal affair. Their Catholic education ended when nuns stopped grading their tests.
I am unable to form much of a personal opinion about Archbishop Burke, but I do know that he was a very authoritative, at times polarizing, figure. There are some people here who adored him, but there are also many who still love to hate him. It sounds like Bishop Carlson knows what is needed to bring about much needed healing.

“Kindness, courtesy, meekness, gentleness, humility, patience, prudence and eager concern are the virtues which must describe the pastoral ministry of the bishop."

Welcome to St. Louis, Archbishop Carlson!

One Big Moter City Family

2009-04-20T16:22:00.000-05:00

This weekend the VSC girls made our long-awaited road trip to the Vincentian Family Gathering conference in Detroit. It was a busy and enlightening weekend. We sat through 3.5 days of talks and met Daughters of Charity, Congregation of the Mission priests, and Society of St. Vincent De Paul (SVDP) volunteers from all over the country. Our West Coast VSC counterparts were also there.
Hearing about the work other people do is always a great shot in the arm. Here's a sample:

The Hispanic parish in Charlotte, NC that offers a monthly free medical clinic
Sr. Elizabeth, who shares her sweet smile with incarcerated teens on an Arizona Reservation. She visits them, encourages them to hang onto Native traditions, and fights for the detention centers to offer more job training and rehabilitation
The Samaritan Center, a former Detroit hospital that is now a collaborative social service center. The huge facility houses an urgent care center, job search facility, assisted living home, dialysis center, small businesses, and a future mental health facility. Keeping the place clean and bright is a central component of respect for their clients. The staff is also great - we met a nurse decked out in gold jewelry who is possibly the most loving dialysis nurse on the planet. She cheerily greeted every elderly patient like they were her relatives.
On the Rise Bakery, a joint effort of Capuchin monks and the released prisoners and recovering addicts they mentor. Fr. Ray nearly broke down and wept as he told us about the men who started the business and their determination to build better lives for themselves.

I used to think the abundance of non-profits was a depressing sign of the state of the world. I could never donate to every single one, and they clearly hadn't succeeded in completely changing the world. Now I see the hope and encouragement in so many efforts to reverse poverty. A dozen impassioned, closely-knit local groups can be more specialized and effective than one government agency wrapped in red tape.

Meeting other non-profits is also good for getting ideas and forming potential partnerships. We did a lot of VSC publicity this weekend, since our program is pretty obscure even in the Vincentian world. (If the Jesuit Volunteer Corps is Diet Coke, VSC is RC Cola.) Once we had explained the year-long service in community concept, people loved it. They all seemed to be thinking "Where I can get one of these?" Could there be a VSC-Detroit one day?

The whole VFG gave me a lot to consider, not just about social justice but also the future of the Church and my own calling. This is probably going to be a multi-poster - tune in tomorrow!

Scenes from my 'hood

2009-04-14T21:28:00.000-05:00

You know what I don't miss about the DC suburbs? Vinyl siding. None of the houses here have it. Instead, every little house is made of brick, stone, and/or stucco. Their sturdy coziness never gets old as I travel around the neighborhood.

You know what else never gets old? Going to my library for a tote full of books. It's more modern-looking than most buildings near my house, and its insides are eclectic and intriguing. The books aren't the only cool part, the people there are fascinating. There's the tall man with the knit rasta hat who always works the front desk. There are moms with toddlers, people with backpacks napping in chairs, college kids thumbing the DVD cards. And then there are the Orthodox Jewish guys, who fascinate me. They lope along like any guy in his twenties, calling friends on their cells. The only difference is the yarmulkes on their head and the tallis fringe peeking from their fleece jackets. I've always felt like I appreciated my Jewish ancestry, but I've never lived in a town where you can see people walking to synagogue every Saturday afternoon.

I'm not ADD, but my library card is. I always feel like I'll be uncultured or bored if all my books are the same. Here's what I got this time:

Doc In the Box and Accessory to Murder - two of the Elaine Viets mystery novels I am hooked on
The Covenant - a sappy novel in which our Amish heroine battles intrigue. American sects and cults ahoy!
One Hundred Years of Solitude - One of those "books everyone should read" I hear it's about history and memory, which is a bonus
Stalin's Children - Three generations of Russian history. I should also get back in touch with the Eastern European history I used to obsess over.
The Flying Inn - I should also get acquainted with G. K. Chesterton, since he's one of those snarky Catholic authors people always quote.
Oscar Wilde's Short Stories - Once in a while, you need some British witticisms.
Jewish Pirates of the Caribbean - How could I not read this book? The author even lives in Kingston, Jamaica.

Whether I will actually read all of these remains to be seen. I suppose if I really want to be a Renaissance woman, I should pick up some science fiction or math theory. That would definitely be thinking outside my usual box!

Happy Easter!

2009-04-12T22:10:00.000-05:00

The VSC House is so full of Easter candy and cupcakes you might get diabetes walking in the door. There's also leftover ham, potato casserole, and fruit salad. Not to mention my GF chocolate cake with jelly bean Empty Tomb. It's been a fun, relaxing Easter Sunday. Two of the girls had family come into town, so we had quite the full house for brunch. We gave each other "Secret Bunny" baskets of goodies. The Easter Bunny (aka Texas Volunteer) even hid eggs full of jelly beans and confetti poppers around the house. Now we're crashed on the couches, uploading and tagging Facebook pictures of the day.

This has been a lovely, and at times lonely, Triduum. Last year I practically lived in the Catholic Campus Ministry chapel during Holy Week. I always had a crowd of friends around to pray, laugh, sing, and eat with. This year the VSC girls have done some services together, but last night I went to the Vigil Mass alone. I missed my family too, who were all pumped up to see Little Brother #2 serve at "the Mother of All Vigils" (MOAV) back in Virginia.

Two Daughters of Charity were at my Vigil, though, and they insisted on driving me the 50 feet to my house after Mass. It was 10pm after all :-) The Vigil is inherently beautiful - you can't not get goosebumps from blessing sacred fire and hearing the Exultet sung. The ritual can overcome musical ridiculousness, like the tambourine-accompanied musical number the choir director tried to create out of Moses parting the Red Sea. The same guy chose Mozart's Ave Verum Corpus for the communion hymn. I think he is seriously confused.

Mass at the Cathedral this morning, on the other hand, was blissfully magnificent. I was alone again, naturally, but it was worth it. I played in some abridged bell pieces, and just generally enjoyed being part of the choir but not actually having to sing like a professional. Of course the "Christus Vincit" and Hallelujah Chorus nearly reduced me to tears. This Mass was bittersweet, since it might very well be my last playing bells. I hate to leave just when I am finally a good ringer and recognized as part of the group. The "boys club" of lower register bells seems to accept me. Karen, our director, said I am a great ringer. The sacristan even knows I need a low-gluten communion host saved! Dear Pope Benedict, please assign STL an archbishop ASAP so I can play in his installation Mass. Thanks.

Surely He Has Borne Our Griefs

2009-04-10T11:08:00.000-05:00

It's Good Friday, the saddest but most meaningful day of the year. The Triduum of Holy Thursday/Good Friday/Holy Saturday is definitely my favorite time of year as we relive Jesus' last days in real time. I'll be spending a lot of time in church this weekend, attending the most beautiful liturgies of the year. Yesterday I even got to see Bishop Hermann bless holy oils at the Chrism Mass.

Growing up, my family always watched a lot of Bible movies during Lent.
Yesterday's article in Slate about gory, gaudy Passion productions put on by Fundamentalist churches. I had no idea Cirque de Soleil-meets-Salvation History was such a trend right now. The article raises the valid point that the Gospels really aren't the stupendous epics these plays make them out to be. I've seen dozens Jesus movies and none are exactly the riveting "Greatest Story Ever Told" their billing promises. Maybe it's because we know what is coming - some Roman soldiers, some skeptical Pharisees, some preaching to crowds of extras in long robes. It's not quite action-packed. The accounts of Jesus' life are more like ancient tragedies than epics, full of dialogue until the main character meets a rapid and brutal end.

Unfortunately, this article got bogged down in the dialogue. In the process, the author missed the entire point of Easter. He suggested that instead of the Passion, churches should look to

a stirring parable Jesus told about a rich man who sends invitations for a fabulous dinner party, only to have no one accept. So the rich man has his servants round up "the poor and crippled and blind and lame," .... With the fast of Lent over, churches hoping to share their beliefs could take Jesus' parable as a suggestion: Throw a dinner. Make it lavish. "Go out to the highways and the hedges," as the rich man said, and invite the poor, the crippled, the blind, the lame. What kind of story would that tell?

Treating poor people with compassion and dignity - what a concept! It's not like thousands church pantries and religious outreach programs do that every single day of the year. Jesus' death and resurrection are only a disturbing postscript to his career as a "good moral teacher." Let's just give away free stuff and everyone will convert.

St. Paul wrote that "we preach Christ crucified, to Jews a stumbling block and to Gentiles foolishness." It really must seem absurd to non-Christians. They read about this nice man defying religious authority and preaching compassion, so far so good. Then suddenly he's arrested, flogged, tortured, and publicly executed. That is hardly feel-good literature. God willfully choosing for his Son to suffer in a humiliating manner seems illogical. It's not even epic- some obscure person dies in a backwater town.

And yet, it also makes perfect sense. Love one another as I have loved you, Christ commanded. How much did He love? Enough to be arrested, flogged, tortured, and publicly executed for our sake. Enough to quietly endure the same anguish that His creation brought on itself by sin.

Anyone I work with, even the non-religious people, could tell you about the anguish of sin in the world. We see it every day in the lives of our clients. Many of these women have been beaten by boyfriends, ripped off by landlords, enslaved by addiction, raped by men they trusted. They may be guilty of anger of neglect towards their little children. There are oceans of pain in this world caused by selfishness and bad decisions. It takes more than free diapers and or even lavish dinners to change that.

How do you solve such pain? By facing it head on. That's the beauty of the bloody Passion. I'll admit, it used to terrify me. As a child, I hid from crucifixes and the Good Friday scenes in Jesus movies. Then I heard someone describe Christ's death as the most beautiful love song ever written. There is something so comforting, so profound about worshipping a God who endured the spectrum of human misery and pain. For anyone who has ever been backstabbed, abandoned, treated injustly, physically attacked, reduced to the clothes on their back; there is an image in the Gospels of God experiencing the same thing. Through that painful experience, his love purified this sinful world.

He was despised and forsaken of men, A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; And like one from whom men hide their face He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, And by His scourging we are healed.

Beautiful buildings can help you survive political debates

2009-04-08T12:53:00.000-05:00

On Monday night Intern #4 and I went to a roundtable discussion about health care reform. The event was hosted by SLU's social work school and Center for Social Justice, so she knew everyone organizing it. I felt like a little bit of an imposter - as I always do when I'm surrounded by people with MSW degrees - until I remembered that my job at a health care non-profit totally makes me legitimate.

The panel was a combination of community organizers, lobbyists, health care advocates, and one health law professor. I walked away feeling like I had learned a lot about different health reform ideas, but I also felt like I needed to read A LOT more about single-payer vs. an "opt-in" government health plan. In the broad political landscape, the US has to decide which is worse - bigger government or a for-profit health system that leaves many people without care. Within the reform movement, there is also a lot of argument about the best way to change the system.

I'm not a hard-line conservative on this issue, but I decided at the meeting that many Single-payer advocates scare me. They are usually intense and determined, fired up with moral indignation. If you challenge their beliefs, then you are an idiot with no compassion for your fellow human beings. Their logic is often simplistic and questionable, too. "Every other country does this; we should too!" "Picture how much you pay for health care now. Under single payer you pay nothing! Woohoo!" They have no patience for gradual change that would accommodate the many Americans who fear "socialized medicine."

Luckily, the meeting was in a building full of lovely architecture. Il Monastero used to be a Presbyterian church. Now SLU has added several meeting spaces and rents it our for events. The longer I stared at the room in front of me, the more I noticed. Check out the picture - see how each chandelier is unique? And the Romanesque arches within the ceiling beams? And the perfect circles near the walls? The accent wall that's a different color from the rest? The only part I didn't like was the abstract-ish artwork. It was a little unnerving to have a female nude smirking at us in her voluptuous fertility. What exactly was the point of that tryptich, anyway? Intern #4 hates the gaudy carpet. I think that's her social worker frugality talking.

"You're leaving in the morning on an early train" - Phil Collins

2009-04-04T22:52:00.000-05:00

I'm really glad I gave up getting rides home for Lent. Taking the bus is teaching me patience and to take things as they come - like when your afternoon train leaves 2 minutes ahead of schedule, pulling away as you try to run to the platform. With all the pockets of waiting time I have, I can read a book, pray the rosary, call my mom. It reminds me of "Jamaica time" on my service trip to Kingston. You get there when you get there, and just have a relaxed attitude as you move through life.

Deciphering the bus schedule and joining the crowds of commuters makes me feel like more of a city-dweller. All week long I have been dying to re-watch Stranger than Fiction, where the bus commute of Will Ferrel's character plays a pivotal role in the plot. I wouldn't mind having Emma Thompson's voice narrate by daily schedule, either.

Stranger than Fiction is not a masterpiece of a movie, but it's a very good one. I'm rather partial to it since it involves many of my favorite things: Emma Thompson, loony professors, ridiculous literary analysis, and Chicago's modern architecture. The soundtrack is pretty good too, and got me interested in the band Spoon. One of their albums got me through my errands today. It was so nice to drive around town with the windows down and peppy rock music coming from the speakers.

What should we add to the National Mall?

2009-04-02T15:16:00.000-05:00

The Smithsonian just released the 6 designs under consideration for the upcoming National Museum of African American History and Culture. All of the designs are decidedly modern, echoing the National Museum of the American Indian and East Wing of the National Gallery. This building, slated to open 2015, will likely be one of the last additions to the monuments and museums that already line the National Mall.
I'm excited to see how things turn out, and I hope the museum committee chooses something that will fit the dignity of the location. The slide show of options reminded me of HGTV's Designer's Challenge. Will the homeowners go with tasteful but boring, or ambitious and expensive? Will museum planners want a design that already dictate museum placement? Some architects proposed gallery names or "Door of No Return" slave ship mock-ups.

Here's my humble opinion on the slide show presentations.

Not bad. It wouldn't clash with the surrounding neo-classicism, but it wouldn't quite thrill either.
Ummm, this just looks silly. Like an alien structure from a children's TV show. The huge glass walls are a neat concept, but they don't mesh well with the hulking metal blob.
I like this one. The nautilus design makes a good use of space and nature, and reflects the circular Hirshorn gallery. An ascending spiral of galleries to a "Celebration" view of the monuments gives a good sense of journey. My only qualm is that this lends itself to a strict time line interpretation. Visitors might be reluctant to wander as their interests lead them. I'm also imagining a train of school kids running back down to the bottom once they've reached the end of the line.
Tasteful, with an organic feel, but also a little underwhelming. It's basically a decorated box.
What. The. Heck. Oh, I see, it's "a building made of natural materials, rising as of out of bedrock and muck," aka when Stonehenge imploded next to the Reflecting Pool. "Along one side runs a wetlands scene, a nod to historic Tiber Creek that ran through part of Washington. Its glass roof features etchings echoing Yoruba ancestral arts, and it also has an outdoor amphitheater facing Constitution Avenue." This creative-sounding description is code for "ego as huge as the stone pylons." If this were built, it would be all about the structure, not the exhibits inside it. Every aspect, from the ceiling beams to the outdoor projection screens, is in-your-face and over-the-top.
Ahhh, that's better. Dramatic but not like being pelted with boulders. The wood details are stunning, but I'm not sure how all of this would flow together. You can't just slap a ship's hull onto a rectangle. Also, I'm not sure how I feel about the very literal ship's masts at the entrance. African-American history isn't only about the slave trade.

"Lady Madonna, children at your feet, wonder how you manage to make ends meet." ~ The Beatles

2009-04-02T09:48:00.001-05:00

Inadequate nutrition for poor people is always a matter of concern, but it's interesting to see how poverty diets have evolved over time. I'm currently reading Sweetness and Power, in which a anthropologist traces the history of sugar consumption and trade. I skimmed over the complicated mechanics of sugar cane processing, but the social history aspects are pretty cool. How did sugar evolve from the luxury of kings into the obesity-causing bane of school children?

Apparently in the Middle Ages sugar was considered a spice to be liberally sprinkled over meats or mixed into wine. It was also a status-symbol. Sumptuous feasts displayed elaborate sugar figurines or models.
Everything changed with colonization and industrialization. Thanks to the Caribbean, rum and sugar were available in large quantities. At the same time, temperance advocates promoted stimulants tea, coffee, and hot chocolate as alternatives to booze.

Here's where poverty comes in. For a family struggling to put food on the table, hot tea made bread and butter feel more like a meal. It didn't hurt that sugar in the tea provided a few extra calories. I was especially intrigued by the observation that poor Englishmen eventually deserted nutritious oatmeal for bread. Once moms began working in factories outside the home, store-bought bread was a lot easier to serve than all-day-simmering porridge. Jam on bread was also a cheap, tasty, sugary alternative to butter. That's right, fast food was already an issue for busy families in the 1840's. Even then, people were relying on caffeine and sugar to get them through the day.

How do you spend your money?

2009-03-30T15:26:00.001-05:00

I've recently resigned myself to the fact that you can no longer find a decent pair of shoes for under $22 dollars. When even Target and Payless have prices outside of the $15 range, you might as well pay a little extra for something that will last longer and not exacerbate your knee problems. Ok, Target's shoes can be pretty good, but Payless is just not worth it. My recent examples: the business-like pumps whose heels wore down to a slant after only a semester of Sunday church outings, and the cute flats I bought in October whose fabric is already coming unglued. My $50 black Sketchers pseudo-sneakers, on the other hand, are well-worn but still wearable 3 years after purchase.

I've decided that my little footwear analysis justifies splurging on some supportive shoes for grad school. The Winterthur fellows told us that museum tours mean being on your feet a lot, so I'm trying to strategize accordingly without breaking my "living simply" budget.

Why can't governments be choosy about their spending? For instance, today marks the beginning of Metrolink service cutbacks in St. Louis. Fortunately for me, this only means more waiting around on train platforms. My afternoon 60 North bus line no longer exists. Luckily there is another bus route nearby that will now run more frequently. I only have to adjust my commute a bit, but some people have lost their way to work. Bus travel is already difficult and even expensive for NFNF moms, but these cuts have made it even harder for them to make ends meet.

While I understand that times are tough and we might need to make the trains run less often, I also feel like the whole affair was handled poorly. Back in November, a referendum gave voters the unfortunate choice between expanding or contracting transportation services. Of course St Louis County residents vetoed the idea. They didn't want more tax dollars to go toward something they use only for sports events. Outrage at wasteful Metro spending in the past blinded some voters to the fact that good public transportation helps city residents lead productive lives. If "city people" can't take a bus to work, they're more likely to stay on government assistance. Usable public transportation is a worthwhile investment.

Oh wait, look, the feds are willing to pay for local needs sometimes. Today I discovered a grant

"to control, reduce the spread of, and/or prevent invasion and establishment of noxious weeds on public lands within the Boise District using the most economical, appropriate, and effective weed control methods available. This funding will allow the counties to treat BLM lands at the same time as private, state, and/or Federal lands thereby increasing the potential for successfully controlling or containing the entire weed infestation."

At least we're keeping Idaho's ragweed and crabgrass under control.

Another manic Friday

2009-03-27T13:43:00.000-05:00

Here's some welcome news:A Study in England concludes that doodling helps you pay attention
I should show this to the Nicest Boss in the World to justify the epic drawings I've been making in meetings lately. Somehow the Yellow Brick Road became a fire breathing dragon, and then I moved on portraits of a jelly-bean jar. We've had many of these meetings with the head honchos lately, eagerly trying to get our hands on some of those bazillion stimulus dollars about to flood the economy. Of course, everyone and their non-profit brother is going to be trying the same thing. All I can say for sure is that federal grant applications are long, intimidating, and confusing. My brain would explode if it weren't for doodles.

Having a creative outlet, like this blog, really does keep me sane, especially on crazy days like today. I like to gripe about the days when the office is a flurry of activity and anxiety, but I really do love it too. It really makes me feel useful. This week has been a circus of phone calls and epic printing jobs as we prepare for the big annual auction on Sunday. To top things off Nicest Boss in the World and I sent out a local grant app today. This one wasn't long, but it was tedious. Normally I enjoy playing detective for data, but not when it is in categories we don't follow closely.

Oh yeah, and I just learned there are 4 (!!) potential future social work interns visiting this afternoon. If they want to see a non-profit in full action, this is it.

Allies Against Wheat

2009-03-23T12:22:00.000-05:00

It's always a weird experience meeting other gluten-free people. At first, there is the initial excitement of someone who understands your food issues. After a while, though, you realize they don't share all of your opinions/favorite recipies, and they are very stubborn about their favorites. I'm realizing there is a spectrum of GF living, and I, as always, hover somewhere in the middle.

On the far right we have Nurse Jan, who always shares baked goods with me when she's in the office - zucchini bread, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes with fudge icing. She's also really, really intense about her GF-ness, avoiding things I would never consider dangerous. "Oh yeah I'm hardcore. I make my own vanilla!" Besides insisting on homemade BBQ sauce, salad dressing, and sausages, she also avoids cocao processed with alkali. Huh? In all my research I have never heard of alkali poisoning anyone's innards.

On the other hand there is the GF Winterthur fellow I met over interview weekend. She was very sweet and supplied me with pretzels and ginger snaps from Trader Joe's. One of the other Fellows is her GF watchdog/food buddy. She'll eat the icing off a cupcake or caviar off a cracker and hand it to her friend. I'll be honest, I would never do such a thing. What about stray crumbs? Yikes!!! (Ok maybe for the caviar. But just once.)

But then again, I cheat sometimes too. Fast food is my downfall. Of course I would never touch a hamburger bun again, but I put a blind eye to the fillers that are probably lurking in my crunchy taco. Or the battered onion rings that were probably in the same oil vat as my fries. I've had to draw the line, though, at beer-battered fries in Irish pubs. I love those places, but eating there is super hard. Everything is basted in Guiness, and a bowl of iceberg lettuce is hardly bar food.

Finding more patrons

2009-03-22T15:30:00.000-05:00

Well, it's official. None of my other potential graduate programs worked out, so I will be a Winterthur Fellow next year! After making it through interview weekend, I am not sad about my other rejections. Instead, I'm relieved to be wondering no longer about what happens next. I can finally start planning ahead!

I've decided that I need a patron saint for my master's program. Here in STL I'm connected to a whole crowd of historic figures, most of them Vincentian in one way or another. There's Vincent de Paul, his colleague Louise de Marillac, visionary Daughter of Charity Catherine Laboure, Elizabeth Seton the first American Vincentian, and of course Louis himself. A "cloud of witnesses" indeed.

So who is the patron saint of museum studies? After doing some research I found there is not even an official patron of historians. Our best bet is St. Bede the Venerable, who chronicled early British history. I'm rather partial to that idea since he was the namesake for my Williamsburg parish. (That's him behind the baptismal font lid.)

Yesterday was the feast of a more obscure Briton: martyr Nicholas Owen. He was a Jesuit laybrother who assisted priests during the Elizabethan persecution, designing and building elaborate hiding places for them in homes. Like most, he was eventually captured, tortured, and gruesomely killed. To me, the Jesuit English martyrs have always been rock stars, both learned and courageous. If one of them was also a clever architect, then we need to be friends. I think he would approve of my fascination with historic buildings.

So. St. Bede and St. Nicholas Owen, pray for us!

Two Literary Ladies

2009-03-20T16:03:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I ran across an article in the religious journal First Things about the troubling character of Susan Pevensie in the Narnia books. At first, she is a rather sympathetic character. I always identified with her role as the sensible older sister. Her final fate, though, exiled from Narnia for her teenage silliness, always leaves a bad taste in reader's mouths. Her 180-switch in personality and values seems so abrupt and unfair, especially since it's written as a final footnote we never saw coming.
Matthew Alderman's article is unlikely to sway The Golden Compass author Phillip Pullman's opinion that "the author of The Four Loves was an underdeveloped asexual freak bent on keeping his readers in a kiddie time-warp sealed away from the great god Sex."Still, Alderman does present some insight into the dangers of frivolity such as Susan's.
Susan is set to become not a real adult, but a perpetual teenager locked into “the silliest time of one’s life.” She is a child’s caricature of adulthood. “I wish she would grow up!” cries Polly.

"The problem is not that Su’s world was, say, the world of Gidget, but that it could become what Sex and the City looks like in the unflattering light of reality. A never-ending quest for party invitations looks awfully flimsy when stacked up against the deeds of Narnia’s own strong-willed women—like Susan herself, once."

If I were Aslan, I probably wouldn't want Carrie Bradshaw interfering with my magical medieval king land either. You know her shoes wouldn't hold up on a mountain hike or horseback ride.

Speaking of mountains, I just finished reading the story of another young woman who travels to a distant land. Catherine Marshall's Christy is a somewhat fictionalized account of her mother's time teaching poor children in Appalachia. The book is often marketed as an Evangelical tale of inspiration, but it's also the story of one frivolous girl's journey into adulthood. When she arrives in Cutter Gap, TN, Christy must put aside cute shoes and tea parties to face the harsh realities of rural poverty. She learns to love her students; they can be smelly and unruly, but they are also smart, earnest, and in need of love. Fueds, hunger, and disease present real physical challenges, but there are spiritual issues to grapple with as well. As she works in Cutter Gap, Christy deals with questions about theology, morality, sexuality, and friendship.

Of course, my volunteer life is a lot cushier than a remote mountian community, but much of Christy's experience resonated with me. Like her, I have wondered where to draw the line between faith sharing and judgemental preaching. I am discovering that my adult life will not exactly mirror that of my parents. Every day I realize that I have more to learn about the people I serve, and that there are more ways I should open my heart to them. Service is a continual lesson in humility - the more you do it, the more you realize you can't do it without God's help.

You never know what your fortune cookie will say

2009-03-16T13:11:00.000-05:00

Yesterday the VSC house went to P.F. Changs to celebrate New Yorker volunteer's birthday. She and her boyfriend eat there nearly once a week, so they know the entire staff. I can't blame the "creepy-eyed" manager for saying hello every time they come in - they are such an adorably nerdy couple it reaffirms all our faltering faith in true love.
My gluten-free shrimp with lobster sauce was delicious, and I got double the fortune in my cookie.

Everywhere you choose to go, friendly faces will greet you.
Many pleasurable and memorable adventures are in store for you!

Those were definitely true this weekend, from the Creighton students who slept on our floors to the Winterthur fellows who drove us around. Nowhere did I count my blessings more than when I returned to the NFNF office. Everyone welcomed me back and wanted to hear how the interviews went. Even if they don't understand or care about material culture, they were excited for me. It felt like home.

The adventure continued because..I got in to Winterthur!! I am still shocked. Getting the news was such a fun experience - I broke the news to my freshman roommate in real time over Gmail chat. (She got in to Winterthur as well!) Then I ran to the break room, where the NFNF girls greeted me with hugs and shrieks of joy. All day I got to share the good news with yet another co-worker. The office manager said she is "as proud as if my own kid got into grad school." How fortunate I am to be part of the NFNF family.

An Emotional Tire Swing of a Weekend

2009-03-15T17:15:00.000-05:00

Behold the "extensive grounds" and "happily situated" Winterthur museum and estate. Even in cold gray weather it's an impressive setting. The 7 (or is it 9?) story house houses early American furniture, rugs, art, and tableware by the truckload. Henry Francis Dupont collected it all after he got bitten by the antiques bug.

Needless to say, arriving there after a day of intense grant writing about poor people was serious culture shock. When I heard the other interviewees nerd-out over silver marks and ceramics, I felt in way over my head. I did my best to tread water, selling myself as the plucky church architecture enthusiast with lots of raw talent and love for museums. In interviews, I was pleased to realize that I have the makings of a good writer and educator. I wanted to start giving museum tours that minute. Whether Winterthur and I are right for each other remains to be seen, though.

On the postive side, everyone there is wonderfully friendly and kind. The faculty were nothing if not encouraging. They spent hours getting to know everyone, including a "speed dating" swanky dinner at a country club where they rotate tables at the change of every course. The current students, or Fellows, were also amazing. With snacks, coloring pages, play-doh, and tours through the museum, they kept us from going insane. Each class has a great sense of fun and comraderie. They also wear lots of cardigans and and old-fashioned-looking jewelry - my kind of wardrobe!

It was so wonderful to be back in the land where a person's favorite Founding Father is not only a legitimate conversation topic, it tells a lot about a person. (Luckily most of us agreed that Thomas Jefferson was a jerk who would toolishly own a Snuggie were he alive today.) It was exhilarating to proudly proclaim myself a Virginian and an historian.

On the other hand, there were many, many moments when things did not feel right. Unlike some of my peers, I did not gaze upon acres of furniture and feel that this was my calling in life. I do not currently give a care about metal curating or ships anchors or needlepoint or china patterns. Does all that stuff really matter to anyone? The beauty-loving and social-justice-loving halves of me were at war. It was jarring to finally visit a place I had revered for so long, and not immediately feel at home.

They call me with their decision tomorrow, so we'll see what God's will is for this one.

Studying "Stuff" for a Living

2009-03-11T16:52:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow I'm heading to Delaware to interview for the Winterthur Program in American Material Culture. (Historians like long wordy titles.) Here are some of the things you can study there:

"Gee whiz, don't you just love Flemish bond?" those brick students seem to be saying. At "history camp" last summer we got high schoolers to feel that way, I kid you not.

Obviously, I'm excited and nervous about the chance of attending such a great museum studies program. If it can help me learn to better get teenagers pumped about dead people's belongings, then I am all for it. Still, it's going to take some mental gymnastics to switch from today's grant proposal mayhem back to all the public history papers I wrote in college.

Stress-blogging

2009-03-11T14:07:00.000-05:00

It's already been a stressful day at work, so I am going to distract myself with some links of interesting stuff.

First, Barbie turned 50 this week. I owned a few growing up, including my aunts' 1970's Skipper and a Wedding Day Midge who frequently lost her head after a neck injury. Here are some fun commemorative pieces about an iconic plastic pop-culture.
The Onion's Best-selling Barbies
Memories of a Muslim Barbie
The sad saga of Ken

If toy-time doesn't de-stress you, how about some comfort food?
Here's some interesting criticism of the recent "organic and local" mantra.
I agree that such food is pricey and impractical for many Americans. Just frozen veggies or an apple a day would be a big improvement to many NFNF clients' diets. Whether your food is nutritious is a bigger deal than where you got it.

In light of that, I'm excited to see that First Lady Michelle Obama is promoting fresh, healthy food that's also realistic for families. I especially like that she'll eat both organic carrots and Five Guys burgers, a D.C.-area institution. That cream-less creamed spinach sounds delish, too.

"I'm just talkin' 'bout two lonely people tryin' to reach a little understanding" ~ Toby Keith

2009-03-10T09:31:00.000-05:00

The other day I continued my habit of "Old Movie Sunday" and re-watched An Affair to Remember. It never fails to warm my heart - and inspire my brain to analyze. **Spoilers ahead, so if you haven't already learned the ending from Sleepless in Seattle, leave now.*** What makes this film so much more watchable than most chick-flicks today?

The plot is straightforward, and reminds me of a happier-ending Romeo and Juliet. The first act is a comedy of manners as boy and girl woo with witty banter. Unfortunately, previous social connections forbid their union. The second act turns tragic as the girl seems felled by disaster. Luckily this Juliet is still conscious and able to carry on a conversation when her man finds her. And Ken-doll Paris is surprisingly obliging even after he learns his kept woman has fallen for someone else.

Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr's star-crossed romance is remarkably chaste - the titular "affair" consists mostly of long gazes and fervent handclasps. Kerr keeps playboy Grant at arm's length, guarding her cabin door and enforcing a strict curfew. All these boundaries just tease our emotions into passion and longing. The camera taunts us with a lingering but out-of-frame first kiss. Fleeting displays of affection remind viewers of the imminent separation that will dominate Act 2. The fact that our couple doesn't spend their ocean voyage romping in bed maintains the romantic tension and makes their story that much more bittersweet.

I'll admit, some parts of Act II are a treacly time-capsule. I want to gag when Kerr teaches precocious at-risk youth to belt out tunes about obeying your conscience. The step-solo by the token African-American kids is what puts me over the top.

Deborah Kerr lives in a world dominated by men, and she makes some earnest but clumsy attempts at feminism. Her journey from wearing diamonds to struggling as a schoolmarm reminded me of Jane Eyre somehow, especially how she avoids the love of her life until she comes to her senses about how much they need each other. Kerr is sick of male egos, and so avoids them by insisting on footing her own medical bills.

Still, her independence is a little myopic. Ken doll is not the violently jealous man she makes him out to be. Cary Grant is more hurt by her secrecy than he would ever be over the source of her medical coverage. Like the heroine of The Millstone, Kerr must realize that if a liberated woman "asked more favors of people, I would find them more kind."

The film also resonated with me as a look at 1950s medical access. Effective treatment is something only for the wealthy. Stigmas accompany any disability. No one in the film actually utters the word "crippled" or "paralyzed." Kerr's injuries are cleverly kept secret until we see a theater usher bring out her *gasp!* wheelchair. Friends do treat Kerr with compassion and respect, but she's also an object of hush-hush pity.

Ok, enough social commentary. Why do I love this movie? Because love saves its main characters. When they meet, they are smart, funny, and bored with their glamorous lifestyles. They realize that "we'd be fools to let happiness pass us by." They work hard to make their relationship viable, making career changes and eventually taming their pride. They fight rationally, and then they reconcile.
That' s how it should work. It's much more emotionally satisfying than someone chasing their crush through an airport for an "oh wait, I actually do love you!" public make-out session.

Big Picture

2009-03-06T14:56:00.001-06:00

Google Maps and I have become pretty tight this year. With the VSC house set as my base, online maps have been indispensable for figuring out directions and just generally getting my bearings in a new place. For the first time, I actually understand compass directions and can figure out detours. Every now and then it's good to zoom out and see the entire street grid of St. Louis. It gives me a sense of what surrounds my house and office.

In grant writing it also helps to "zoom out" your focus sometimes. The other day I printed out some recent minority health statistics and was reminded all over again why we do what we do.

Of the African-American women who get pregnant in St. Louis, 25% don't get sufficient prenatal care, compared to 6% of white women. 14.8% percent of those women will deliver underweight babies. For every 1000 African-American babies born, about 16 will not see their first birthdays (three times more than white infants.)
Compared to white people in Missouri, the number of African-Americans with STDs or gunshot wounds is astronomical. So are statistics for homicide, HIV/AIDS deaths, and ER visits related to mental illness.

My Lifetime movie starring "Eve the single mom" is coming along nicely. I am actually enjoying the creative/editing process on this one, seeing how other people relate it to the big picture. One meeting with the Nicest Boss in the World turned into a deep discussion on poverty, violence, sexual abuse, the objectification of women in rap music, all the problems in the world, etc etc. Maybe I think too much about things sometimes!

The weird world of meetings

2009-03-02T15:51:00.000-06:00

I have a love/hate relationship with meetings. On the plus side, they provide a nice field trip out of the office, or at the very least my cubicle. They use up time in my day. Sometimes they are even interesting.

Last week I had two very nice meetings related to our Healthy Start program. First, I met a great graphic designer who had wonderful ideas for publishing our client photo project. Then, I got to take notes on a whiteboard during the general meeting, which is more fun than sitting awkwardly. It's always interesting to observe the motley crew of nurses and administrators and clients and stray SLU students writing papers about us for class. There is also free food and cute babies to pass around.

Afterwards, I screwed up my courage and told two of our client photographers that I loved their work. One was receptive to my compliments, the other shy. Again, I was reminded of how I need to get over myself and reach out to people. I doubt either client was skeptical of my social work credentials or suspicious of me as a middle-class white girl.

On the other hand, most other meetings leave me feeling very confused and useless. Good thing Intern #4 comes along so I am not the only newbie. Today's public health coalition meeting was good for people watching but bad for understanding what was going on. When I start to blank out, I'm always glad that I'm not in that Mel Gibson movie where he can read women's thoughts. What would happen if I had a visual thought bubble that revealed my musing about groceries, Facebook, and the weekend?

Intern #4 and I did get our share of the conversation eventually. We also realized that everyone else wasn't having profound thoughts either. We were asked if we were clinic auditors, and later someone thought we were the Dept of Health high school interns. Do we really look too young to have college degrees? We don't carry American Eagle totes like the real teen interns, and I'd like to think we act professionally. Weird.

On Love and Learning

2009-02-28T13:23:00.000-06:00

It's amazing how babies grow constantly in an almost invisible way. Day to day their changes are very subtle. Then someone sees them after week or month and says "Wow, you've gotten so big!" As a child, I hated when adults told me how much I had grown. Now I say it to NFNF clients and my co-workers children all the time! (I must be getting old.) Just yesterday I was holding a Community Outreach Mom's two-month old, and was excited to see that the little girl could now practice lifting her head off my shoulder.

I've been noticing gradual changes in myself, too. Sometimes it's things I had hoped would happen this year - living on a limited budget and interacting with the poor daily no longer intimidate me. Other times I've changed in ways I never expected.

Just this week I discovered that I no longer revere Evelyn Waugh's novels as I once did. (Nerd alert!) I was introduced to his masterpiece Brideshead Revisited when I was 18 and I've re-read it every year since then.

That same senior year of high school I also dove into Waugh's shorter novella The Loved One. It's a satire of the Hollywood funeral industry, revolving around the love triangle of cosmetician Aimee Thanatougenous, mortician Dr. Joyboy, and British poet Dennis Barlow. Parts are very funny and others are horrifying. Being a romantic high schooler, I was most upset by the fact that there was not a "true love" relationship I could root for. I ended the volume confused, but certain there was some deeper meaning I just couldn't figure out. I never read the book again, testing Waugh's other, more famous works instead.

I finally had the idea to give The Loved One another try after watching this year's Oscars. It's much funnier when you aren't 18. I've realized since high school that satire usually involves death or some such calamity, so you really shouldn't get attatched to the characters or project yourself onto them. And the The Loved One is excellent satire, colorful and clever and dreadful.

Were I still an idealistic 18 year-old, I would write a paper for English class about Waugh uses his literary skill to criticize the American Culture of Death. Ta da! Instant Catholic literary hero. Today, though, I would say that Waugh takes his skill too far, mocking pretty much everyone who isn't an old-fashioned curmudgeon like himself. The novella could really be shorter, and it's dismal conclusion strikes me as one big "Screw You!" to humanity, especially the American part.
There's no love for anyone in the writing, which makes Waugh's cranky voice sound like a clanging cymbal.

I was born on an Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T21:02:00.000-06:00

Maybe that's why I like it so much. I might dread Lent as it approaches, but when the first day of penance arrives it never fails to be meaningful and not as difficult as I had imagined.

A little black cross streaked on foreheads is such a wonderful symbol. It's as ephemeral as the human life it symbolizes, lasting only a few hours. Just a few days into Lent you've forgotten you wore it. I think this keeps the image from becoming cliche and meaningless. After all, you don't see ash smudges printed on greeting cards or draped across store displays or stamped on seasonal candies. These simple dark marks remain safe from obnoxious popular culture.
Instead, ashes appear briefly to remind us of our weakness and frailty. Once a year we put our dare to plaster across our faces the fact that we need God's redemption.

Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.
That was evident in my office today as two co-workers anticipated surgeries. These women are both vivacious, outgoing, and hardworking, but their cardiac system and spine aren't invincible. No matter how much we want to do everything, we cannot. We're only fragile creatures molded from dust.

As I walked home thinking these things, the breeze was unseasonably warm. Contemplating mortality, I ironically caught a whiff of damp soil and budding plants. My stomach grumbled from fasting and my cute shoes made my feet hurt, but I also reveled in the sunshine and exercise. Paradoxes like this are why I love Lent and Easter. Pain and beauty, fear and life, sin and love blend for one magnificent experience. These 40+ days help us understand the humanity we were born into.

Train of Thought

2009-02-24T09:15:00.000-06:00

Ever since watching the Oscars on Sunday night I've been getting walloped by some kind of cold/congestion thing. It's clouding my brain and slowing my efficiency, except when it comes to random useless thoughts. Observe this morning's train of thought. (*Warning to any male readers - girl talk ensues*)

It all started when I read about fistula injuries in Africa.Reading about teenagers whose childbirth complications make them incontinent social outcasts reminded me of how lucky I am to be a woman in a country and century where giving birth no longer means risking your life. American women today are unlikely to join the historical record of stories that end "died in childbirth."

Then I started thinking about the c-sections and inducements and incubators that mean mom and baby can now both survive when not everything goes as it should. Of course, this doesn't mean birth is a piece of cake. Babies are still born too early, too small, too fragile. Just yesterday I heard about a woman at the shelter where another VSC girl works. This mom went in to be induced, and 36 hours later she's not even in labor! Another shelter resident is diabetic and recently was delivered of an 11 pound baby girl. With all our medical prowess and understanding of how to create life, we still can't control how children grow and choose to enter the world.

Then I told Grant Intern #4 about the doctors offering free fistula correction surgery in Africa, and that made her tell me about suburban moms who donate extra breast milk to African orphans. It sounds crazy, but they pack baggies of it in dry ice and ship it off. (Reminds me of those old threats of "There are starving children in China who would love to eat those peas!!") It's a little inefficent, but it's also a profound expression of giving of yourself and solidarity with the poor.

Then Intern #4 made a comment about wetnurses, and my head snapped back as nerdy analysis shot through my brain. "Omigosh!! That's, like, a reversal of the wetnurse ethnic roles that defined previous eras!" I exclaimed, picturing 19th century women outsourcing their maternal roles to slaves or house servants. Or even Pharoah's daughter fetching a Hebrew slave to suckle baby Moses. ("It's like you just had a seizure," observed intern #4.)

Then I started thinking about Eve, the "mother of all the living" whose departure from the approved produce section brought painful childbirth upon us all. I really love the sound of her name, and I would love to give it to my future daughter. I worry that Future Daughter would hate me for it, though. Can you imagine sitting through religion class saddled with a name associated with nudity, disobedience, and generally ruining the world for everyone else? I have a hard enough time being named for the matriarch who mistreated her slave and generally laughed in God's face.

Then I thought about how Eve can also represent Everywoman. Sure she made mistakes, but girlfriend was a pioneer too. She had to figure out marriage, childbirth, fashion design, and cooking without any mom or aunts or girlfriends or women's magazines.

Then I remembered the imaginary/composite/Lifetime movie client description I need to write for an upcoming grant application. I suddenly knew how I could begin describing the typical poverty-stricken single mother. I named her Eve.

Happy Black History Month!

2009-02-20T13:46:00.000-06:00

Meet Annie Minerva Turnbo Malone, a notable St. Louis resident. Most people know about her because of the children's home that still bears her name. They might have heard that she, like Madame CJ Walker, was a pioneer in designing and marketing African-American hair care products. What they probably don't know is that she may have been the first African-American woman to become a millionaire, and that she lavished that fortune on her employees and on African-American schools and orphanages.
In it's 1920's and 30's heyday, Malone's Poro Company operated from an enormous St. Louis building that served as something of a community center, with an ice-cream parlor, barbershop, classrooms, and meeting space. Sadly, that building no longer exists, and Malone lost her fortune in a divorce and tax problems. She's faded from national memory since her death in 1957, but a street in north city bears her name.

I gave a little presentation about Annie Malone for one of NFNF's urban parenting classes this week. To be honest, I was terrified. Our clients can be a daunting audience. What do I, who am neither a nurse nor a parent nor a Black American, have to say that they will find helpful or interesting? After my "History of Christmas" presentation for a rural class, I have realized that the white heat of standing before a room of busy impoverished mothers forces you to melt hours of bookish research into a few nuggets of meaning. They aren't going to care about the accuracy of my footnotes or the nuances of segregation law. They aren't going to take detailed notes with an infant wiggling on their lap. I have to find the "So What?" of studying history, and find it fast.

So, I put as much human interest into the presentation as I could. I told them their stories were as much a part of history as those of the past. I encouraged telling family history to their kids, to give them a sense of heritage. I passed around pics of Annie Malone and Poro products. I held Malone up as someone who helped women become self-sufficient and who gave back to her community.
As always, our clients surprised me. A few were distracted, but two were especially interested a quick to volunteer comments about how they view Black History Month. Everyone liked my comments about Madame Walker's fabulous hats and my Dad's stories of his childhood misbehavior. Overall it was an exhilarating and humbling 10 minutes that passed in the blink of an eye.

And it was a look at faces of the future like these siblings: