Alternative Valentines

Since I don't have a Valentine this year, I've pulled together a list of alternative Valentines for myself:


My sweet beloved cat Pepper.  Almost three years ago (when I was blonde) we met in an animal shelter -- it was love at first sight.  She is the best cat that has ever lived, bar none, and I will fight you on that.

Liz Lemon.  Not technically a Valentine.  We'll be co-celebrating Anna Howard Shaw Day.

The abyss.  I looked into it, it looked back into me.  We've been making eyes at each other ever since.

Ladybugs.  They're kind of stalker-y obsessed with me.  They swarmed my room in Huntsville and now they're all over my room in Austin; I even found one in my bed yesterday.  Move on, ladybugs, it's not going to happen.  Don't make it weird.

And, most importantly, Jesus.  (Or, more accurately, the personification of my relationship with the Triune God).  I mean, duh.  In the light of Christ's overwhelming love for me, buying him a box of chocolates it the least I can do.  He's not here to eat them, though, so I'll have to do that part myself.

Writing Overload

I really did sit down last night with every intention of writing a personal blog post.  However, I spent most of my Tuesday and Wednesday engrossed in a marathon of research, spreadsheeting, and typing up very dry data (trying to make it interesting); by the time I got home, I would rather have pulled off my keyboard keys than write another word.  So instead of writing about myself, I'm using this post as an insight into my job and reposting that blog entry here.

From the Grassroots Leadership blog:

Meet the private prison industry's lobbyists who could shape immigration reform

In the last two years, major private prison companies Corrections Corporation of America (CCA) and the GEO Group have spent at least $4,350,000 on lobbying the federal government, primarily to win immigration-related contracts.  What does that kind of money buy you?  Some pretty lucrative contracts, apparently.  In 2011, the federal government paid $1.4 billion to the two corporations, nearly a third of their total profits.

In fact, a 2011 report by Grassroots Leadership and Detention Watch Network found that private prison corporations operate nearly half of all Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) detention beds.  What's more, private prison corporations are benefiting greatly from the criminalization of migration through programs like Operation Streamline.  

It’s no surprise – or secret – that immigration reform which reduces detentions and deportations would be a threat to private prison corporations' business.  Business Insider reported on February 2nd that in 2011, GEO Group CEO George Zoley told investors:

"At the federal level, initiatives related to border enforcement and immigration detention with an emphasis on criminal alien populations as well as the consolidation of existing detainee populations have continued to create demand for larger-scale, cost efficient facilities."

That same year, CCA stated in its annual earnings report that immigration reform

“could affect the number of persons arrested, convicted, and sentenced, thereby potentially reducing demand for correctional facilities to house them."

So who are these wealthy private prison corporations looking to to win them immigration detention contracts?   Below the jump are just some of the some the major lobbyists for private prison interests in Washington:

Mental Health in Dollars

It's been forever since I've updated this blog.  My life has been both really busy and really uneventful -- I don't have much time to write and what I have to write about doesn't seem interesting.  If you want to see some work-related things I'm writing, though, keep an eye on the Grassroots Leadership blog and Texas Prison Bid'ness.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how my life could have unrolled if I had been born into a different situation.  I see everyday how mental illness and economic access interact, both in my work and personal life.

The US is completely unequipped to deal with people with mental illness.  I am so, so blessed to belong to a family that had the wealth and ability to take care of a daughter with a serious mental illness; without their resources, I would have ended up like most of us –  homeless or in prison.

Without a mother and father who were able and willing to intervene early in my life, I doubt I would have finished high school, much less attended college.  I would have dropped out and tried to support myself with whatever work I could find, if I could keep it.  Because of my father’s health insurance, I’m able to afford expensive prescriptions and personalized treatment, but I could have just of easily tried to self medicate with illegal drugs.

Just one drug offense could have landed me in jail – if I had been born Hispanic or African American, the chances of my using would have been equal, but the odds of me being incarcerated for the same offense would be seven times greater.  The mental health services available to people in prisons are abysmal, especially in underfunded states like Alabama and Texas; without the psychiatric intervention I received at age twenty and the constant vigilance, I could have been a “trouble maker” and be sent to administrative segregation.  I would be kept twenty four hours a day in a small cell without psychiatric help, fresh air or sunlight, room to move, or meaningful human contact.

After being released from prison or jail, US Americans are ineligible for social services and can be legally discriminated against for jobs.  The rate of recidivism in this country is astounding – two thirds of people return to prison after being released.  Even if I managed to stay out of prison, I would have no governmental assistance and probably wouldn’t be able to get a job.  I would be homeless and mentally ill, like a third of the people living on the street.

My parents’ wealth – not my own abilities – bought my ticket to a secure, comfortable life.  In fact, without their wealth, my abilities would be useless, lost under a tenuous grasp on reality rather than buttressed by a first-class education.

I profoundly wish that other people in the chemically imbalanced boat had the same opportunities that I have.  Instead I’m face to face with a system so intrinsically unjust that I feel like I’m emptying a pool with a tea spoon.  It’s enough to drive a person crazy.

Check out Presbyterian Serious Mental Illness Network for information and some great resources.

A new litany

I regret how bad I've been lately at keeping up with this blog -- now that we've all settled in things seem too normal to write about.  Once I figure out what to write about (hopefully by Wednesday), I'll do so; in the meantime, I've been composing a prayer in my head during my bus rides that I'm going to share here.  In many ways a reflection on St. Thomas Aquinas's Student's Prayer and very heavily influenced by Bonhoeffer (we're reading Life Together as a community).

The Activist’s Prayer

I am capable.

I am strong and equipped for the work set before me.

I am not called to the impossible task of making things perfect,

But I am called to try anyway.

I recognize that I am sometimes disappointed – in myself, in others, in everything –

And I recognize that all I can do is turn these things over to God.

I pray for God’s intercession in the world

And, in doing so, see all things in the light of Christ’s redeeming love.

I pray for us, not for them.

I am happy because of God’s infinite, perfect love,

Which is so abundant and beautiful that even the rocks and trees proclaim it.

I am joyful even when I am not happy

Because of the divine Spirit that pours forth from every human heart,

Including my own.

I am thankful for my burden

Because I know that my reward is not waiting for me in a distant heaven,

But present with me in my daily life.

I am so thankful for Christ’s love that I gladly and constantly submit to God’s will

And praise God in everything I do.

I pray these things in the name of Christ Jesus,

Who has forgiven my uncountable sins

And turned my weeds into flowers.

May the words of my mouth,

The meditation of my heart,

And the work of my hands

Be acceptable to you oh Lord, my Rock and Redeemer.

Social Justice Hero!

Instead of a regular Wednesday blog post, I'm bringing you an article from the Grassroots Leadership blog on our Social Justice Hero of the Month, Caroline Isaacs of the American Friends Service Committee!

http://www.grassrootsleadership.org/blog/2012/11/social-justice-hero-caroline-isaacs/

Law and Justice

Sarah, Eric, and I got home from our whirlwind trip to Tucson on Monday afternoon.  We went as a Borderlinks delegation with other YAVs from the Southwest to learn about immigration issues and cross over into the Mexican half of the city of Nogales.  While it was energizing to see our YAV friends and really helpful to contextualize my work, the trip overall was physically and psychologically  taxing.  I'm still processing the trip and will probably revisit it in future blog posts; there is just too much to unpack all at once.  Seeing firsthand what I usually only view from behind a computer screen hit me really hard.

The question that I can't avoid is one that came up when we reflected as a group -- should we even try to abide by the law when it contradicts our values?

If you haven't guessed by now, I take a very liberal stance on immigration issues.  At the heart of everything I do is my strong belief that all of God's children are equal, regardless of where they are born.  According to my faith, US immigration policy runs counter to Christ's command to reflect God's love by welcoming the stranger.  Simply put, our laws are unjust.  But I don't know if I would have the courage to break them.

If you found a migrant in the desert, what would you do?  Would you give him food and water and then turn your back?  Turn him in to Border Patrol knowing that you were sending him back to violence and dire poverty?  Drive him to safety and, in doing so, risk fifteen years in prison?

I wish I could say that I would flaunt federal law in the service of my brother in Christ, but I know that until the opportunity arises I can't be sure.  In the meantime, I'll be behind my desk trying to make a difference in legal ways.

Lists and lists and lists

I have a long history of being disorganized.  Iconically, in sixth grade, my math teacher asked me to show her my planner everyday after class because I never seemed to know what was going on.  Of course, since she never told me to stop (or she did and I didn't write it down), I kept doing so until the end of the year and didn't find out until my senior year of high school that she took my ignorance to mean I was extra dedicated.

At my boss's wise urging, I finally got a real adult day planner, although it took me awhile because I kept forgetting.  Lists keep popping up all over my life -- I send out a schedule of my work week every Monday, keep spreadsheets of journalists and Public Information Requests, curse myself when I go to the grocery store without a list and end up buying all the wrong things.  They've even spilled over into my spiritual life; my Tuesday night Bible study made lists of five things Christians do, and each member of AYAVA house is starting a Benedictine-style schedule of prayers (I'm including both of them after the jump).

I never really thought of God as a "list-person," not that God would really have to be, being omniscient and all.  Watching organizational skills play into my spiritual life is exciting, although unexpected.  Turns out I should have listened to my parents for all those years (who would have thought!).

Joshua 1:8

"Never stop reciting these teachings. You must think about them night and day so that you will faithfully do everything written in them. Only then will you prosper and succeed."


I got a double retrospective this week: my parents visited over the weekend and I spent the last 23 hours in Sarasota, FL, where I started college.  And it was doubly strange to look back on the various ways I had expected my life to turn out compared to how it is now.  I didn't graduate from the school I wanted to, I don't live where I wanted to, I don't have the job I wanted.
I had a couple conversations with old friends about who is doing well, who is successful.  I guess I shouldn't have been surprised to hear people cite money or a career (or at least a chance at one; we're in our early twenties, after all).  I'd like to think that success is more philosophical, less quantifiable, but I can't give a solid definition.  I want success for me to include an active role serving God's people, a healthy community, a life stable enough to raise a family, and eventually the family to go along with it.
Honestly, I'm not sure if I'd count myself as successful, even by my very loose definition.  My current position isn't sustainable -- it only lasts for a year -- and I certainly don't have anywhere near the resources to support anyone but myself (and I can just barely do that).  But I want to think of myself as successful, not just someone floating through life.  Does it count if you're only on your way to "success"?  Can success mean following God's path, even if that path leads somewhere most people, or for that matter anyone, wouldn't classify as successful?
I hope you'll all pray for me as I grapple happily with these questions and maybe give me some guidance.
Peace of Christ!

Internal Happy Dance

Last week, we found out at Grassroots Leadership that the bid by GEO Group to privatize the Kerrville State Hospital has been rejected by the Texas Department of State Health Services.  The battle isn't totally over -- the rider in the last legislative budget that instructed DSHS to look into reducing costs at a hospital by 10% is still there -- but this is still a major step forward for us.

It's amazing to me that I got to experience an actual victory so early in my YAV year; at orientation we talked a lot about how few and far between actual, tangible results can be in this type of work.  I came into this job expecting to be part of stemming the tide or pushing back what's already happened, knowing that something like this might not happen at all.

What ended up surprising me the most was with how little fanfare it actually happened.  While there have been a flurry of celebratory email, tweets, and Facebook posts, most of my day went entirely as usual.  So instead of popping open a bottle of champagne with some activists, I've been doing an internal prayer/squeal/happy-dance since about 11 this morning.

And, of course, the work never stops.  I still have to get private prisons abolished by July!

God's Eye is on the Sparrow

     Why should I be discouraged?  Why should the shadows come?
     Why should my heart be lonely and long for heaven and home?
     When Jesus is my portion, my constant friend is He --
     His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

Only in the last few weeks has it really hit me how far I am from anything I've known.  It's so easy to see all the difficult parts of what I'm doing -- I'm emotionally and physically distant from everything familiar, I'm trying to do work I've never done before, I'm spiritually challenged day in and day out -- and sometimes it's hard for me to see the bright spots.

Luckily for me, the victories have been coming in droves.  Recently I heard from my pastor in Birmingham that three churches in the city have made hugely generous donations to my mission.  First Pres of Birmingham, Mountain Brook Presbyterian Church, and Independent Presbyterian Church have provided so much to me that I'm entirely done with fundraising.

So I've been singing this song to myself all week -- Why should I be discouraged?  His eye is on the sparrow.  

Schedule change

Now that my job has picked up, I'm cutting updates down to once a week on Wednesdays.  However, my first post on the Grassroots Leadership blog just went up!  You can check it out here:

http://www.grassrootsleadership.org/blog/2012/10/social-justice-hero-gail-tyree/

Jesus Made Me Do it; or, why I pierced my nose

I'm preparing to deliver a sermon this Saturday at the Texas Festival of Young Preachers.  From the provided list, I chose Jeremiah 7:1-7 as my text:

This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: “Stand at the gate of the Lord’s house and there proclaim this message:

“‘Hear the word of the Lord, all you people of Judah who come through these gates to worship the Lord.  This is what theLord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: Reform your ways and your actions, and I will let you live in this place.  Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord!”  If you really change your ways and your actions and deal with each other justly,  if you do not oppress the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow and do not shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not follow other gods to your own harm,  then I will let you live in this place, in the land I gave your ancestors for ever and ever. 

Try as I might, I can't avoid the fact that Jeremiah is the character in the Bible with whom I identify the strongest.  Yes, Jeremiah, the one who made his name by acting ridiculous, ranting about things no one wanted to hear, standing at the gate, and reaching out to the Outsiders.  I like to think I'm a little less insane than Jeremiah, but it's doubtful.

The truth is, the reason I love Jeremiah so much is that he gave God full control over his life, even when he did it begrudgingly.  Over the last couple years, and especially now that I'm a YAV, I've striven to cede control of even the most banal aspects of my life -- what I eat, what I wear, where I live, how I get to work. Like Jeremiah, I've felt pulled towards unpopular choices, not only taking a vow of poverty, but also sticking a big piece of metal right in the center of my face.  (Yes, my mother hates it; no, it didn't hurt.)

Like the prophet's unorthodox clothing choices and spiels against the rich, my septum piercing helps me identify outwardly and openly with the people I'm here to serve.  And so I honestly don't care what the folks on velvet pews behind stained glass windows think; I didn't do it for them.  I did it because I'm an Outsider, Jesus was an Outsider, and the people I serve are Outsiders.  I'm committed to following my call down to the smallest aspect, even if it means eating beans and rice every other day and looking a little strange in a church.

How blessed I am that the Spirit pushes me and gives me peace.

Peace of Christ!

I'm a real intern!

Forgive me for another late post!  The AYAVA house internet was wonky all weekend and I wasn't able to sign on.

As promised, a (somewhat) funny anecdote: about a budget hearing!  And let's face it, budget hearings are always a hoot, particularly four hour ones at the state capitol.

Never in a million years would I have expected my time as a missionary to be spent listening to the director of Texas State Health and Human Services describe his plans for the next two fiscal years.  The hearing started at 8:30, which is as much proof as anything that sometimes governments can be straight-up evil; I was there to hear my boss deliver his testimony about why the Kerrville State Hospital shouldn't be privatized at the end of the meeting, so I was in for the long haul.  Both of us had missed our coffee, and I was seriously suffering.  Finally, about ninety minutes in, my boss texted me:
Could you go get us some coffee?
I nearly fainted with joy.  Also fatigue.

He passed me the organization's card and I walked across the capitol grounds to the cafeteria.  As I stood there, filling two giant cardboard cups with mediocre coffee and trying to remember if he wanted sugar or cream, I had a realization.
I'm a real intern now!

I was so excited I texted both of my parents.

Blessings of Christ and coffee, and peace of the Spirit!

On “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”

            Some thoughts have been weighing on me that I need to share.  I hope you’ll all forgive me for a long and somewhat less personal post – I promise to come up with some funny anecdotes for the Sunday update.

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it now, and you will probably hear me say it again: it is always time to do what is right.  It is always time to fight for human rights, support the liberation of the oppressed, and give voice to the silenced.

The source to which I turn most frequently (excepting, of course, the Bible, the Book of Order, and the Book of Confessions) is Martin Luther King Jr’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail”, written in response to cries from the white Southern church that the courageous fighters of the Civil Rights Movement slow down, that they wait until it was less socially divisive, that they wait for a time that was more politically advantageous.  In the most beautiful, powerful, and straight-forward way, Dr. King sounded the call to action that has not lost any of its significance.

The passages from this letter that speak most strongly to me are those in which King speaks directly to the church (some of which I have included below).  I’ve been sent into a mission that isn’t politically popular which can be extremely draining.  In my heart I know that human rights should not be a political issue, but still I hear rhetoric from all sides that dehumanizes the people for whom I am working (immigrants, detainees, and prisoners) by addressing them as an issue rather than as human beings.  My own organization is often hesitant to work with conservative groups because of the harsh platforms of the Republican Party; as a result, many are skeptical of churches and Christians because of our reluctance to commit to this struggle.

I hope you all will continue to pray for me as I confront extremely troubling aspects of our society.  Peace of Christ be with you all.

From "Letter from a Birmingham Jail":

But despite these notable exceptions, I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the church. I do not say this as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with the church. I say this as a minister of the gospel, who loves the church; who was nurtured in its bosom; who has been sustained by its spiritual blessings and who will remain true to it as long as the cord of life shall lengthen.

[…]

In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the church. How could I do otherwise? 

Rain and rain and rain

Austin -- which was sunny and 100 degrees for the first three weeks we were here -- has been rainy and dreary since Friday.  I've adapted to getting so much sunlight that I can feel the soggy weather weighing on my mood, and it's been an effort to stay present in my work and community because of it.  How blessed I am to have awesome housemates who are totally down for rainy day activities -- yesterday we went to a used bookstore and we just finished watching Hairspray (I sang along).

Blame my short post on the weather.  The week overall has been fairly uneventful; next week my organization has some big meetings and I'll be helping prepare for those.

Peace of Christ!

Peace and Filing (two days late)

Filing: a missionary's worst nightmare.  And, coincidentally, what most of my work week has consisted of.

Not just filing.  Filing huge stacks of semi-organized papers.  Filing confirmation of a bureaucratic over-reliance on abusing natural resources.  Filing and reading page after page of evidence of how unjust our justice system is.  Earlier this week, I came across heart-wrenching letters between an inmate and his mother that brought me to tears; I had to step outside and call my mom before I could face those documents again.

None of this is to say that I don't do other things, or that the filing I'm doing isn't important.  I love my job, I believe in my organization, and I have awesome coworkers.    But when I stepped into the office on Monday, all I could see were thousands and thousands of pages to be read, sorted, and put away.

After hours and hours of work, the sea of paper has finally melted down into a neatly organized filing cabinet.  Unlike most aspects of the non-profit life, this effort has yielded a tangible result, and one of which I am immensely proud.  Out of all this frustration I have found an immense source of peace -- that I did that.  Not only did I help my organization be a little more efficient, but I learned so much about it as I read and put away allllll those pages.

I thought about asking my coworker to take a picture of me with said filing cabinet for this blog, but I decided that would be too weird.  You'll just have to imagine a picture of a very happy me standing next to an admitted drab piece of office furniture.

Peace of Christ!

By the way...

http://www.grassrootsleadership.org/blog/2012/09/grassroots-leadership-welcomes-piper-madison/

Kairos time

Two anecdotes and a reflection:

On Thursday, the bus I take to work passed me by without stopping; the next bus came twenty minutes later, and I got to work late and sweaty.  Luckily my boss is very flexible about my hours, but the frustration of sitting powerlessly in the Austin sun for half an hour left me sunburned and in a cranky mood.

This morning I was late to church when a member of my caravan showed up ten minutes after we were supposed to leave.  Normally I'm calm about being a few minutes late, but knowing I was missing the beginning of a church service made me extremely anxious.  If I had been the driver, I would have left the tardy worshipper behind; fortunately for him, the driver has much more patience than I do.  One of the seminarians in the car reminded me that we cannot rely on our own, human time -- chronos time -- but that we need to give ourselves up to God's time -- kairos time.  Although it was hard to see in the moment, it was much more important for all of us to go to worship than for me to arrive promptly at 11.


My transportation foibles are the most obvious example of being beholden to another's schedule, but my days are filled with things that force me to work around or depend on someone else -- working in an office, living in an intentional community, planning and participating in meetings.  God willing, this year will help me find the balance between chronos and kairos in my daily life, being prompt when I need to be and at peace when I can be.


This is a great resource on chronos/kairos time.

Peace of Christ!

And so it begins...

I'm two days into my job at Grassroots Leadership and four bus rides into my foray in public transportation!  So far I haven't made any grave errors with either -- knock on wood.

My position at GL is somewhat ambiguous and so far consists of
   1) begin outreach to faith communities
   2) whatever else needs to be done.
Since my first day at the office was also the organization's first day in that office, "whatever else" spans a pretty wide range of things, from unpacking and breaking down boxes to getting quotes for business cards to shivering under my blazer because we haven't quite figured out the climate control yet.  Luckily there are only three of us, which means that I can always find something that needs to be done (and I already know everyone's name!)

My biggest fear going into a new job was that I would feel incompetent; it didn't help that I had no idea what I'd be doing until I actually got there.  My anxieties were only exacerbated by the fact that I'd be taking the bus to get there -- until yesterday morning, I had never taken a public bus before and I've rarely ridden public transportation at all, much less alone.  I never thought that riding a bus would be a religious experience, but the last week has truly taught me what it means to pray without ceasing: not just "dear God, help me get off at the next stop" or "dear God, we almost hit that man!" but "dear God, thank you for courage and reliable bus routes."  And, of course, we are fully equipped for everything God calls us to do and I am fully equipped for my new job, even for finding out what that means.

I'm going to plan on updating on Wednesdays and Sundays from here on out.  No promises...the best laid plans...

Peace of Christ!

Getting oriented

We just ended our first full day of orientation and I'm already near overwhelmed.  There are around sixty people her who are all incredible and interesting who I've been brought into community with and who I want to get to know, which means that I'm running full octane trying to learn as much about and from every individual.  In addition, we have hours each day of training -- critical cultural competency, simple living, sexual misconduct -- that are fascinating and necessary but also a huge drain on my mental and physical capacities.  As a result I am both ecstatic and exhausted, anxious to get to Austin and sad to leave behind this community, totally disoriented and totally at home.  Best of all -- the hard part hasn't even started yet!  Prayers are deeply, deeply appreciated.

I will try to find time to blog this amazing experience, but I doubt I will have very much.  Once I settle into my site I'll set up a more regular schedule for posting (probably twice a week).

Peace of Christ!