Chi Rho! Chi Rho! From Indy to Oklahoma I Go.

When I found out that my first (and unfortunately, only) week of Chi Rho camp was the first week of my internship, I was reminded about something that one of my English teachers from high school told me. He said that he could picture me teaching junior high school. Junior high school kids are notoriously awkward, just like yours truly. Junior high age is also when kids tend to start asking this “big questions” – think morals and ethics. It’s fantastic to see when kids that age are presented with a question, and you can visibly see their faces light up in awe, because they’ve never been asked that question before. Even better still is when kids ask adults questions that are deep, as they continue to develop their critical and abstract thinking skills.

My first camp was Oakridge Camp in Anadarko, Oklahoma. This was my first time in Oklahoma, and I quickly fell in love with the rich red color of the clay. Also, from the opinion of a native Illinoian, I believe that Illinois is flatter than Oklahoma.

I lead a camp-wide activity on Tuesday morning at Oakridge, the Privilege Walk. The Privilege Walk is a very popular activity that I’ve even utilized in a freshmen seminar that I assisted with this past year. However, this walk that I led was an edited version of the typical activity. In the activity, the facilitator reads a statement, and if the statements applies to you, the participants walk either forward or backward according to the statement. Some statements include, “If you have health insurance, take a step forward” or “If you’ve ever had to miss a meal because you could not afford food, take a step backward.”

We did this activity during our orientation, and after discussion with Phoebe and the interns, it was decided that it was best to create an edited version. The walk unedited has the potential of creating tension and separation among campers. Instead of coming together to the camp community, we as facilitators would be enforcing criteria that would create barriers among campers, which could discourage opportunities for campers to be open and share their experiences in small group. The edited version of the walk involves campers being intentionally handed an index card with letters and symbols on it. Each letter and symbol corresponded with a statement from the walk. For the sake of time and to narrow down topics of discussion, I shortened the list from 40 statements to 27 – one for each letter of the alphabet and a star symbol. I had the campers lined up, and one by one asked campers to step forward or backward depending on their letter or symbol; “If you have an H, take a step forward. If you have an X, take a step backward.”

I was then able to discuss briefly with the entire camp (about 57 campers).

How does it feel for some of you to be in the front and others in the back?

I was next to my friends, but now we’re in the back and they’re up front.

Why might this be?

Because some people had more stuff than I did.

What kind of stuff?

Money, better job, went to school, I worked harder.

Maybe you did work harder, and maybe that helped you! Would there be any situations where working harder might not help? Why did I have someone intentionally hand you a card instead of allowing you to pick one out yourself?

What was most beneficial was the debrief that followed in small group. I had the opportunity to go to several small groups and go over the key. In addition, Rev. Michael Davison, one of the co-directors of the camp, typed up my key for the walk and played it on a PowerPoint during Tuesday lunch. During debrief, I would ask campers what letters they wanted to know more about, and how those letters would correspond with privilege or lack of privilege. These conversations became extremely personal for campers. One phrase that I heard several variations of was, “Not every letter matched my life, but this letter did, because of this.” And the conversations would deepen from there.

Even as I write this, there’s a flood of conversations and emotions that keep playing in my head. There were stories shared and hidden jokes created, tears shed from discussing loss of close friends and family, campers not understanding why some people hate people that are different than them, and some random discussion about glow sticks and Vines.

Kierkegaard often references the lilies of the field and birds of the air in his edifying discourses (see Mat. 6:24-end for reference). In a discourse discussing joy, Kierkegaard writes that the lily and the bird are joyful teachers, and “that joy is communicable” – indeed, the best teachers of joy are, in essence, joyful. In one of the songs I learned during my first week of camp, the line states that, “They will know we are Christians by our love, by our love.” In essence, what I can give in my conversations and workshops and conversations is perhaps a combination of these things and more: joy, love, peace, justice. I hope that I can continue provide a space and environment for more campers to open up and share their stories and ask their questions, and that I can serve as a teacher for joy, love, peace, and justice that these campers may find comfort and hope in.

I would like to thank everyone at Oakridge Camp who welcomed me with open arms, including staff, counselors, and the dream trio of co-directors: Michael, Bill, and Tara Dew. Also thank you to Rev. Dr. Lisa Davison and Michael for providing wonderful food and providing me a place to stay before and after camp. Also, Braum's is fantastic.

Hope is Action part 2

God is absolutely amazing. I posted yesterday about hope in action and then last night we had one of the most powerful worships I've ever been to, about just that. Be prepared for some tears from this post.

We began worship by being led, with our eyes closed, to our chairs by the kids who were assigned to lead worship for the evening. We then dived into a testimony from a young woman attending camp this week, Maxine Nazaire, who lost a friend in the shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Maxine knew many people attending school there. One of her friends that she attended middle school with was shot and killed while shielding a classmate.

With tears of pain that can only come from this tragedy, Maxine said, "In times of frustration, confusion, stress, and heartbreak, I felt an emptiness that pulled me to look at God with nothing but pain and ask him what is hope?"

She said all the words that so many of these kids feel about our world right now with such raw anger and pain and grief. "My frustration with God heightened: Why? Why did you let someone with so much anger in their heart come into a school and destroy the lives of not just seventeen people, but their families? Their friends? Loved ones? And then there's so many other reasons to feel hopeless. How does a country feel hope when there still isn't clean water in Flint, Michigan, when there's epidemic level gun violence in Chicago? And when there's innocent minorities dying unjustly? When people are being discriminated against just because of the person they love?"

Take a moment to feel the pain of these high school kids. These young people who are grieving, who are scared. But yet- they put ACTION into their hope. Maxine said, "How do you restore your faith and your hope when there's so many things preventing that? How do you nurse the wounds you carry inside? You take that anger away, and you turn that into passion. And I'll admit I have anger, but it's driving, hardcore anger that wants change."

A young woman, Alexa Taylor, also attending our camp, came up afterward and gave a call to action. And I relay this call to action to all of you. Alexa said, "words are a beautiful and powerful thing. To hope that something will get better or to have faith that you can achieve a certain goal- it's great. But too often, people will not match their actions to their words, or take the necessary steps to at least try and match them. As Disciples of Christ, we hold the responsibility of pushing through obstacles, trusting one another, and leaning on one another to take our extreme faith in God and great hope in the things close to our hearts and putting it into action. If we all light up, we could scare away the dark." 

God, help us all learn from kids. Help us do better. Help us take action. 

What if hope is... action?

Quick update before I do a bit of reflection- I am currently at my first camp of the summer in Florida. I have been overwhelmed with the hospitality, but also the immediate connections I've had with other counselors, staff, and campers. These are all super awesome people here at Silver Springs and I'm grateful to begin my summer with them.

----------------------------------------

So, the theme for today's curriculum is "What if hope is real?" and the scripture assigned to this theme is Mark 2:1-5, the story of the paralytic and Jesus healing him. As we had some discussion during small group today, we began talking about looking at this story from different perspectives- the perspective of Jesus, that of the man being lowered into this building, and the people who took him to Jesus. This story is an example of hope in many ways- of Jesus being our hope, of having hope and trust in others, and BEING the hope that others need. This story not only shows us the hope we have with Jesus, but also that hope requires action and determination by people who care deeply and are passionate. The people who carried this man had to allow him to put all his hope in them. They had to take action in a way that was hard and dirty and may not have seemed logical.

Hope is not just praying to be better, but an ACTIVE process. I think about how this applies to the issues in the world our generation and these kids' generation are faced with. It is incredibly easy to feel so bogged down by the pain and injustice and "to become numb to it all" as one camper put it. BUT instead, there are high school students putting action into their hope. Let us feel, not a burden or a weight, but a responsibility to do better for our world- And with that responsibility, immense hope, empowerment, and joy. Though the struggles that we face may lead us to despair, our conversations about them lead to relationships which can do nothing but build us up. 

It's only Tuesday of my first camp, you guys, this stuff is deep.I leave you with this prayer which was first presented by Cardinal Dearden in 1979 and quoted by Pope Francis in 2015. 

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view. 

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.

Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church's mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about.

We plant the seeds that one day will grow.

We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.

It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own. 

Amen.

May the Adventure Begin

Hey y'all,

Welcome to my very first post of the summer of the summer. My name is Jasmine Heath and I am one of your 2018 Peace Interns. I am very excited for this summer and the adventure to come these next few months. However first things first, I should tell you a little about myself. I got my undergraduate degree from Agnes Scott College in 2016. The degree that I earned was my B.S. in Astrophysics with minors in classical civilizations and education. This past May I graduated from Lynchburg College with my M.Ed in Science Education.

I have been doing camp for almost my whole life. I grew up in Richmond, Virginia but every summer I would travel up to Craig Springs where my love of God was nurtured at a very young age. Once I went to college I started to counsel at Christmount which gave me a new relationship with God due to the work that I did with the campers. This job made me realize my calling to teach. Camps have always had a deep influence on me and I want to share that with those that I am going to be working with this summer.

I absolutely love music and can be found singing under my breath wherever I go. I really hope that no one will mind that as I walk around the camp doing that. I am also extremely nerdy and love to lay out on the ground and look out at the stars above us. I am always wondering about the universe and and all the wonders that it holds. This makes me rather excited about some of the camps having the theme Beyond Belief.

This summer I will be speaking on issues such as poverty, disabilities, and LGBT+. I hope that I will be able to bring understanding about these topics. I really hope that it is received well and the campers get something from what I am going over. I think these topics are extremely important for them to know about. I will admit that I am a little nervous but I have confidence that it will go well. One thing I can definitely say that all the training we have received so far has been a huge help and everyone has been amazing. Some of the best times so far is when the other interns and I have been sitting around bouncing ideas off of each other for our different workshops. I think that we will all will do a great job as our adventure begins.

I will be looking forward to traveling and talking about peace and justice issues. Keep a look out for my posts because I will keep y'all updated on my journey this summer.

Peace,
Jasmine

Breaking the Ice

If I were to ask you to introduce yourself, what would you choose to tell me? Name, hometown, occupation? Year in school and concentration of study? A "fun fact" that may or may not be fun?

If I were asked to give an introduction, on, say, a blog post, I would say, and will say, the following:

My name is Sarah Zuniga, and my hometown is Oregon, Illinois. I graduated from Eureka College with a B.S. in Environmental Studies and Philosophy/Religion earlier this month. This fall, I'll be attending the University of Chicago's Divinity School as a Disciples Divinity House Scholar while I pursue a Master of Arts. I love dogs, drag queens, and Kierkegaard's edifying discourses.

Introductions are much more than learning a name and a hometown. As myself and the other DPF Interns have experienced this week, introductions have the unique opportunity of becoming extremely personal. They are narratives into a person's life, slivers of a lived experience that was chosen to be shared to a complete stranger. They help us build connections to one another.

In one training session this week, DPF and Global Ministries interns introduced not only their names, but the story behind our name. How did our given names come to be? In playing icebreaker games that we could utilize for camp, we learned about each other's hobbies, favorite foods, what we looked forward to at camp and what we were nervous for this summer.

The term "break the ice" first originated from Samuel Butler's 17th century poem: "To give himself a first audience, After he had a while look'd wise, At last broken silence, and the ice." For those of us who enjoy ships, I'll humor you for a minute: Ships that found themselves sailing to polar regions were equipped to be able to break the ice, hence the name, ice breaker. In addition, Wikipedia states that ice breakers will sometimes pave the way for other boats to travel safely.

When us DPF interns introduce ourselves to others, we not only have the unique opportunity to share where we are from, but to share what workshops we plan to lead this summer to youth across the United States and Canada. We serve as icebreakers, tearing down barriers that separate others in a group and serving as a guide to help others find common ground, and inviting others to travel the path with us.

Each of us have different narratives to share with our camps. As for myself, I will facilitate workshops on environmental justice, immigrant and refugee rights, indigenous rights, and food justice. However, all of us will be discussing topics that are difficult to talk about. Not everyone will agree on everything I say, and not every person in our discussions will agree with each other; indeed, it would be alarming if every single person agreed 100%. What we can offer, however, is a chance to use our leaderships as DPF Interns to find similarities in thinking and points of agreement, and bring people together instead of dividing them.

To say that we will have a challenging, yet fulfilling road ahead of us is an understatement. I'm fully aware of the blood, sweat, and tears ahead (please let the only blood be grape juice at communion). There will be days requiring 150% energy on two hours of sleep, running to airport gates, constantly adjusting watches to time zones, and only being able to check your email once a day, if you're lucky. But each of us have answered this call to go out and speak out against injustice and advocate for peace. And in this call, there will be moments that we can be thankful for, and look forward to: to meeting new people and forming new friendships, to teaching others about social justice issues that matter to us, to traveling to new places, and to only checking our emails once a day, maybe less.

I'm reminded of the further instructions that we see at the conclusions of Paul's letters, and find the Letter to the Colossians' instructions to be most fitting:

"Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving. At the same time pray for us as well that God will open to us a door for the word, that we may declare the mystery of Christ, for which I am in prison, so that I may reveal it clearly, as I should. Conduct yourselves wisely toward outsiders, making the most of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer everyone" (Col. 4:2-6).

May our summer be one filled with devoted prayer, cultivation of silence and stillness, making the most of our time in each place and finding God in each camp we visit. May we speak humbly and answer each inquiry, knowing that we may not always have answers to difficult questions, but that we can give informed answers to the best of our ability. May we speak for peace and against injustice, and encourage others to travel our path as we model the way.

Let us go and break the ice. 

There is so much thanks to give, but there are a few people and groups that I want to recognize here. First, to Millersburg Christian Church in Millersburg, Missouri, for so graciously affirming me as a DPF Intern and leading this journey of peace and justice. Second, to everyone at Allisonville Christian Church - those who welcomed us here at the retreat center, provided food and linens, the youth who drew us a sweet picture with chalk, and the congregation for confirming us. I also want to thank Phoebe Spier, our DPF Intern Coordinator, and everyone who has been a part of orientation week - your gifts have inspired us and we hope our own work can be half as good as y'alls. To the other interns: Jasmine, Grace, and Ricky, for creating  a space for us to be vulnerable and open with each other in our goals and fears for the summer. And to Matthew Capestro, who not only was my prime motivator in applying for DPF, but who has been someone who has forever altered my life for the better; you're like a brother to me. I love you all.

How do we Peace right now?

Hi everyone! Because this is my first post, here is some background about myself:My name is Grace Tibbetts and I am one of the Peace interns for this summer! In August I will be a senior at Avila University, studying Psychology. After attending graduate school, my goal is to work with young children who experience trauma and adversity.

---------------------------------------------------------

So forewarning this is a little bit of a heavy post.

This summer I will be discussing lots of hard issues, including peace toward self, immigration and refugees, and inequalities in education. As I prepared myself for a week of Peace training and as I begin the week, I don't feel quite ready to talk to high school students about peace. It's a bit of a cliche to say the news and media are overwhelming right now because it seems that they're always overwhelming. However, somehow right now, it feels like a disease- something spreading. Before we came to our week of training, the shooting in Santa Fe, Texas happened and the day we arrived, there was another school shooting actually in Indianapolis (where we are staying). Kids killing other kids seems so much more difficult than other issues on the news. This thought may be a product of the "that doesn't happen here" mentality. We see the violence happening in other countries all the time, but for some reason it seems that we have a separation from the media. It's not close enough to us, so we can become distant from it- but this. This is pretty hard to ignore. There's also an entirely separate commentary on the fact that we are finally talking more about gun violence now that it has affected the white population, but we will leave that idea for another post (or 5).

This all makes me feel unqualified to be teaching about peace. I don't know what to do. I don't know what would fix this terrifying problem. Maybe it's the social climate right now? Are we more violent than we used to be or is it just publicized more? I know how to be peaceful toward others. It's hard to be peaceful toward myself. It's even harder to put peace into action, especially when no one knows what the right actions are. I'm coming into a stage in my life where I feel that I'm supposed to be knowledgeable, I feel that I'm supposed to have more answers than I do. I'm supposed to be able to say "God will take care of this" but I'm not sure that's how this works. And its- for a lack of a word with more emphasis- overwhelming.

But none of us are really supposed to know the answers. The only thing we can do is to strive for understanding, strive for knowledge, even when it is painful, and strive for peace AND justice.

As I go into my summer of teaching about peace, I will be reflecting on this familiar prayer from Gandhi and I hope that you will take a few moments to do the same. What if we said this to every person we met and what difference would this small change in perspective make? 

I offer you peace.

I offer you love.

I offer you friendship.

I see your beauty.

I hear your need.

I feel your feelings.

My wisdom flows from the highest Source.

I salute that Source in you.

Let us work together. For unity and peace.

"Joe, why aren't you eating a S'more?"

“Joe, why aren’t you eating a S’more?”

Ahh, I’m glad you asked. Let’s chat.

S’mores an all American camping classic. If you didn’t eat s’mores by a campfire, did you even go camping?

At our summer camps, S’mores were served as a treat at least once during campfire. To some of you who aren’t familiar with the campfire tradition, it involves the youth sitting around the fire after dusk singing fun and silly songs, performing embarrassing skits and just generally enjoying each other’s company.

The campfire ritual is deeply spiritual and sacred to many of these camps. Time and time again I heard, “this is where I feel God!” I mean, after all, the campfire resembled church. There were people gathered in the name of God, there were songs song together, there was a common meal shared, and there was mutuality. One would think this is want church looks like!

I most certainly did not, in fact the whole campfire ritual was off-putting to me. Yes, it was a new ritual I was not used to, and it wasn’t the sitting around the campfire that I didn’t like.

What I wasn’t a fan of was the bizarre and unnoticed violent messages slipped into songs, skits, and yes even s’mores.

I noticed that the silly, fun songs were often violent and disturbing. I heard songs about little frogs dying, about moose dying, about slitting a rabbit’s neck, about going on a lion hunt, about scary Satan, about early morning birds getting their heads smashed in. To say the least, I was not a fan. I typically would remain sitting while songs like this were song…they were not fun or silly to me because they were advocating for an abuse of our power in connection to animals and other humans. The violence made me terribly sad and angry.

Then there were skits! And sometimes they were silly and fun, but how many times have you seen a camp skit where the punch line of the joke is at the expense of someone else’s humiliation? I saw skits were water was dumped on contestants, I saw skits that talked about throwing a person down a mountain, there were skits about stealing people’s clothes, about calling them suckers, about making them feel embarrassed or ashamed in front of a crowd. Several times I was called on to participate as this contestant and intentionally left in the dark.

(Thankfully I’m pretty camp savvy enough to anticipate the skits that were coming, I’ve only seen them a thousand times). I can’t explain to you the feeling, and since I have less shame than others, it didn’t affect me as I’m sure it would my other friends. Being laughed at is never a good or positive experience, because they aren’t laughing with you when you have been left out of the joke… they aren’t laughing with you when you are the only one getting drenched. They are laughing at your expense.

Lastly, there are the s’mores, a triparte treat of foods created at the expense of others. As a vegetarian, I abstain from eating foods created from the death of other animals annddddddd, believe it or not, marshmallows are made with dead animal parts. They have gelatin in them, the ingredient in jello and starburst and many other products that makes them fluffy and jiggly, gelatinous. Gelatin is made from the grinding up of left over animal parts, like bones, hooves, cartilage, skin, etc. So, I abstained from eating any s’mores with marshmallows.

So what’s wrong with chocolate and a graham cracker? Well, it depends on the brand of chocolate. I have decided to try as best I can to cut out products that profit from extremely poor worker conditions, like low wages, long hours or human rights violations. There is a specific company that is quite notorious for these types of horrific worker conditions, and without naming the specific brand, I am sure you can guess. Cheap chocolate comes at a steep price at someone else’s expense. The alternative would be fair trade chocolate, where you know workers earn fair wages.

And what is left? Just a graham cracker? I’m okay, I’d rather just not eat anything.

My abstention from songs and skits and s’mores might have offended many, but I didn’t care. They invited me into their sacred moments and spaces and I probably defiled them a little. Yet, I got to thinking, how many of them were even examining themselves closely enough to rethink these things?

How many churches have we seen go awry because they let messages or charismatic leaders led them down different paths? Without a healthy skepticism or questioning we just let the wind blow us any which way.

I think that this is how violent songs, shameful skits, and s’mores that kill animals and take dignity away from human beings, wind up into our more sacred rituals.

If we compare s’mores to communion (which at least one camp did), then we are sharing a meal together in Christ’s message. What was that message? I can assure it was not a message condoning violence or shame. And Jesus didn’t just pick any old elements for communion, and I’m positive he wouldn’t be eating marshmallows (they’re made of pork!).

What should we do? I think we need to self-examine and question our habitual practices. If we continue to allow the dignity of others to be mocked during our most sacred rituals, what does that mean our church stands for? Do we condone and endorse violence and shame?

“But Joe, if you ruin all our fun, what will we have left?”

“I don’t know, a graham cracker?”

And so it goes

So I experienced being a floating counselor once again while I was at Craig Springs. I really do think that I'm getting the hang of this free time thing where I ignore that I have free time. I am conflicted on whether or not I think that is the preferable form - when applicable. It's great for maximizing exposure and having the chance to encounter everyone at the camp, but on the other hand one could argue that it lessens the amount of time and effort that can be dedicated to any one group. If only I had another summer like this one to find out *cough cough*. Really though I did enjoy the chance to mingle freely and switch groups so that I could do the most with my time. If I had to name a downside it would be that I never did figure out how to fit naptime into my schedule that week.

Although, I noted that splitting my time between groups could decrease effectiveness I believe that in this case it worked out perfectly. I was able to talk with the various age groups and mingle with them during their activities at any part of the day. Another thing that I think supports that conclusion was that I actually received the most nicknames there than at any other camp*. It helps that the camp works to bring the age groups together into a community with the scheduling and activity layout for the week. There was a massive hike up a mountain that ended with a great view and picnic. I wore jeans, and would like it to be noted that I regret nothing; although, the hike down did feel infinitely easier.

If I had to name one thing that stood out when the various age groups interacted it would definitely be when the played four square. They played for keeps, and with a really weird rule set. Admittedly we're from different state, but I learned in Kentucky and Virginia is relatively close. Long story short I got to be the ref and I added some rules to balance the gameplay. I like to call it the golden age. Not really I only just thought that up. The point is that throughout the week the only snag that I saw in the myriad interactions was in those small windows, and it was momentary as they collectively adjusted the rules to be more fair. I believe that the environment created at the camp had a great deal to do with their mindset and ease of interactions.

Now at the final few days of this amazing summer experience I can really only think back to all the people I've met, and all the new things I've learned. I was told this would be the most tiring and best summer of my life. They were entirely right about it being the best summer. I do contest the claim that it is the most tiring on principle though. This has been an amazing summer, and I have gotten so many things from it. I'm sure that I haven't even realized a fraction of the ways that I've changed my views and self, but I am sure that it has shaped me as a person for good.

Reflection

So my attendance to General Assembly has really just been this last one and the one in Orlando. In light of that I can’t really draw many comparisons between the various events; however, I can say that I participated in a lot more events this time around, and thoroughly enjoy it. Attending various banquets and hearing about the activities and achievements within the various branches of our denomination was nice, but it was more satisfying to here discussion of future plans in those places instead of simply resting on laurels. Plus there were all those cool after worship sessions. I also had a chance see my fellow peace interns again, and to sleep, which was icing on the metaphorical cake. I could rehash all of the discussion on the amazing speakers, resolutions passed, and elected members to get into the details of the assembly. I won’t do that though. Looking back on the event I can really understand why people call it a family reunion as I met so many people that I knew, and even encountered new people I had heard of or from – Hi pen pals.

Shifting topics slightly I had the opportunity to ride to Iowa with some of the youth that would be at the same camp as I was, which was great. My second favorite part was that I arrived a couple days early so I was able to learn more about the camp, help out when able, and get even more sleep. At this stage in the summer I was certain that I knew the ropes of how to handle the roles given to me by camps. Little did I know that I would be provided with my greatest challenge yet… free time. Instead of being attached to a small group or activity/creation group I was allowed to float at will and interact as I pleased. Previously I was always acting as an authority figure in some group setting, but there I was able to be a bystander. Able to do actually mean that I will do. I learned that I can get stir-crazy just by thinking about being idle for a week (where was this during college) so I ended up rotating small groups and interests groups. I later found out they had something like that in mind anyways, but were being considerate in case I was tired so that worked out. Moral of the story: I’m still tired.

I’ve known for a while, but I think it was at this camp that it really sunk in that what makes camp special is not the traditions, curriculum, location, or any of those components. The most crucial part is the people and the shared bonds that manifest. Whenever I leave a camp I’ve taken pictures of it after camp has ended, to supplement the official group photo, and I have posted a few of those. I think that generally we are too attached to locations and the associations we create through them; thereby, distracting ourselves from what may be more important to us. I feel like when I write this blog I get very self-reflective, but I am unable to fully convey what I think about. Hopefully this clicks with someone who has a better way with words.

Rainy Days

It's been a while, but I'm back at this blogging.

It's interesting to see how people respond differently to the things that they encounter. At three consecutive camps it rained quite a bit, or at least by my desert standards, and caused minor inconveniences in terms of schedule adjustment and dampness. Even as campers were cooped up inside due to cancelled activities I enjoyed watching them build connections with each other and solidifying their ties as a group. This was especially true in the West Virginia camp that was held a Bethany College - if you haven't heard of it I suggest that you look it up, because that place is amazing (shameless plug). As I am currently at the end of my time as a peace intern I can say that it was the smallest camp that I attended; however, it was the most closely knit and open group of people that I encountered this summer. I have seen many group covenants saying that being vulnerable  is accepted and that the group is there for support, but the campers actually lived out that statement before my eyes so many times and in so many ways. It was inspiring.  More than that I feel that the concern held many on the decreasing youth attendance may be detracting from what can be done with the youth that are present. It felt as though this small West Virginian camp had some of the deepest conversations about life and managed to leave a larger footprint than some of the large camps I encountered.

I feel that I might have drifted a little bit just then. Eh, I think its fine. Moving right along. I really noticed the power of friendship while I was a Dunkirk, or rather how awkward it feels to be on the outside on the first day (**Disclaimer: this happens everywhere**). Don't get me wrong. I love that camp and really want to get back, and the same is true wherever I went, but its rough being the new kid on the block. If not for one person reaching out by giving up a seat with their friends to come and sit at my table, then I don't know if the week would have been the same. I actually observed this throughout the week from various people as the people who were at the fringes would be drawn into a group and included as though they had been there forever. The rain that drove us to the same area during free time assisted with this; however, it was initiated entirely by the campers without prompting so that was fun to watch.

More words and things. If anyone is on the fence about being a peace intern just take the dive. The only drawback is getting tired, but that's only really at the end. Plus there is plenty of time to sleep on planes so it balances out. More than that it makes a difference in real time.

I Can't Keep Quiet

I am at my last full camp and I have realized that I haven’t really talked about what it is I’m doing at all these camps. Of course every camp is different in how they choose to utilize me, but I have taught something social justice related at each camp. My largest workshops are about mass incarceration and inherent bias within the media.

Mass incarceration focuses both on how this system of oppression started, with change of sentencing for certain drug crimes and 3 strike policy, but what I mostly focus on is the barriers that we put in front of people once they have left prison, specifically focusing on voting rights, equal employment, housing rights, and access to education. I use Luke 4: 16-21 wherein Jesus decrees to set the prisoners free and bring justice to the oppressed. Many campers have a hard time with this workshop because of the “us versus them” mentality our society puts on prisoners. Many campers have told me that prisoners deserve to be where they are and we shouldn’t let them out. My response is always that people should not be judged based off their worst act and that as long as our justice system is unjust and broken then those in prison should not be treated the way we treat them. I have had some campers have an Aha! moment when we talk about voting rights within prison. One camper in particular realized that her own town was using a prison to have a larger population without giving the prisoners the right to vote. Those are the moments that I love and that keep me going.

The second large workshop I do begins with an activity we learned during our anti-racism training. I ask the campers to consider what our society says makes a good American and how that is the center of dominance versus the borderlands. I then show two images to the group, one of Trayvon Martin and one of Brock Turner. Before we discuss who the people are, we first discuss what the message the image is giving. Both images are the ones that were widely used by the media and we discuss why the media would want to use these images. We then discuss where we would place each person on the previously discussed diagram, either in the Center of Dominance or in the Borderlands. Finally, we talk about who these people are and how their actions contradict the story told by the media. I haven’t had as much push back from this workshop, but campers tend to become quieter while the adults in attendance seem to become more enraged.

For both of the workshops we focus on systems of oppression that we are all actively participating in. We can often feel that because the injustice doesn’t affect us, it shouldn’t concern us. But I believe that as Christians we are called to stand up for the oppressed and to fight against the systems we have put in place to continue the oppression. I try to finish each workshop with talking to the campers about what they are passionate about. I tell them that having passion is one of the most important things in life and that we should all have a cause that we all care deeply about. It doesn’t have to be what I’m passionate about, but everyone should have a cause in which they want their voice to be heard. If I got anything out of this summer, it’s that one is never too young to have passion and to have one’s voice heard. I hope that that message was conveyed at the camps I went to. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCnexOFOxCo

Crossing Borders: My Week at Loch Leven

Diversity—a quality that many of our camps strive for, yearn for, dream about.

Tokenism—an unfortunate result of our desperate want to feel diverse.Unity—often confused with uniformity and conformity; being of one tribe.Tribalism—constructed borders that keep us “with our own;” Othering.

A crossroads—an intersection
a confluence
a state of being both, and
a place “sin fronteras
without borders

My past week at Loch Leven was a crossroads of culture, language, and differences. Real diversity was present, and our differences met in a spirit of worship, discussion, and unity. At camp there were youth from China, youth from Mexico, youth from Southern California, second and third generation immigrant youth, youth of different sexual identities, and youth from various faith traditions (or no faith tradition).

Needless to say, there were very clear and distinct barriers between our various tribes. There was chatter about the possibility that the youth will segregate themselves from each other reinforcing borders of separation—the us and them mentality.

And perhaps the first day of camp went a little like this. The Chinese youth hung out with their interpreter, the youth from Tijuana spoke in Spanish to their friends, and the Southern California youth fell back into camp cliques. This is how camp goes, no? People connect with people similar to themselves—segregation is natural at this age they said.

They could not have been more wrong. By the end of the first day I witnessed an ice breaker where youth were all mixed up and randomly introducing themselves to people they had never met (per usual for first day activities). In a small group, I saw a group of about four youth speaking, but there were three languages being spoken. A Chinese boy introduced himself in Mandarin, which was then translated to English. However, there were no English speakers in the group—it was merely the middle language. Once the message was in English, an adult from Tijuana was able to translate it into Spanish for the other two youth. It was truly a crossroads of language and culture in practice.

As the week went on, worship began to resemble and model what the camp began to look like. Scripture was read in all three languages, prayers were spoken interchangeably between Spanish and English, praise songs incorporated verses in different languages. Our small groups made efforts to learn words and phrases in each other’s native tongues—in one instance a Tijuana camper read scripture in English and a Southern California youth read en Español. It was purely their idea, executed by them, and received with thunderous applause from the camp.

They actually cheered and encouraged the spirit of the crossroads; they were living sin fronteras. A phrase I have borrowed from an amazing scholar, poet and activist Gloria Anzaldúa. Her book Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza has been foundational in my workshop throughout this summer. In her work she eloquently describes life trapped by borders, and how our bodies, identities are physical borderlands—bridges—crossroads—between us that unite us.

Her work combines her experience of intersectional identities—Mexican, Texan, Indigenous, Woman, Queer, Mestiza, Chicana…She writes this poem at the end of her book, a poem that made me think about my week at Loch Leven.

To Live in the Borderlands
By Gloria Anzaldúa

To live in the borderlands means you
are neither hispana india negra espanola
ni gabacha, eres mestiza, mulata
, half-breed
caught in the crossfire between camps
while carrying all five races on your back
not knowing which side to turn to, run from;

To live in the Borderlands means knowing
that the india in you, betrayed for 500 years,
is no longer speaking to you,
the mexicanas call you rajetas, that denying the Anglo inside you
is as bad as having denied the Indian or Black;

Cuando vives en la frontera
people walk through you, the wind steals your voice,
you’re a burra, buey, scapegoat,
forerunner of a new race,
half and half-both woman and man, neither-
a new gender;

To live in the Borderlands means to
put chile in the borscht,
eat whole wheat tortillas,
speak Tex-Mex with a Brooklyn accent;
be stopped by la migra at the border checkpoints;

Living in the Borderlands means you fight hard to
resist the gold elixir beckoning from the bottle,
the pull of the gun barrel,
the rope crushing the hollow of your throat;

In the Borderlands
you are the battleground
where enemies are kin to each other;

you are at home, a stranger,
the border disputes have been settled
the volley of shots have scattered the truce
you are wounded, lost in action
dead, fighting back;

To live in the Borderlands means
the mill with the razor white teeth wants to shred off
your olive-red skin, crush out the kernel, your heart
pound you pinch you roll you out
smelling like white bread but dead;

To survive the Borderlands
you must live sin fronteras
be a crossroads.


I shared this poem with the youth at Loch Leven at their Friday night worship service. The service deeply moved me, and was quite symbolic of their week of camp. They burned their border walls—literally and metaphorically.

The service had us walk and stop at stations where we reflected on borders that separated us from each other: Gender, Race, Class, Sexual Orientation, Language, Religious Belief, and Personal Barriers.

These barriers were symbolically written on logs so that the log represented the barrier itself. The logs were collected and, with enthusiasm, chucked into a camp fire to be burned and destroyed. Whether the youth who planned the service know or not, they committed a radical act of social justice. They took the step and decided to stop giving power to the borders that separate.

Their focus was not diversity, their focus was not tokenism, their focus was not uniformity, their focus was not unifying tribes.

Their intention was the opening of spaces, like Loch Leven, to be a crossroads—a borderland without borders. They intended to open the space to allow diversity to exist as it does in the world, they moved to open then space to allow tribes to exist like they do in the world, they burned the things standing in the way.

To live in the borderlands is to live in flames;

The borderlands are not easy, they are not comfortable, the borderlands are treading new ground;To live in the borderlands is to live in tempest.And yet, my week at Loch Leven imparted in me lyrics. These lyrics reassure me, they assure me that a crossroads of flame and tempest embraces—for I am yours and you are mine.

en tempestad/Descansaré en tu poder/Pues tuyo soy, hasta el final