Kamp Kaleo: Nebraska – serene, moving, and transformational.
The Retreat at Silver Springs: Florida – loving, passionate, and tight-knit. I cannot thank you all enough for welcoming me so fully into your lives. I felt God here in a way that I’ve never before experienced.
Camp Caroline: North Carolina – lively, beautiful, and nurturing
Cane Ridge West: Montana – active, thoughtful, and comforting.
{post originally appeared at https://elsiecroasdale.wordpress.com/2019/07/04/photographing-peace/}
somewhere in the Rocky Mountains – near Lincoln, MT
I’m in my fifth week as a Peace Intern now. At this point, I’ve been to Nebraska, Florida, North Carolina, Montana, and am currently in Northern California. The latter four camps have all been since my last blog post, so I wanted to give an update on those experiences (more detail to follow in a photo diary post).
At the camp in Montana, we read a Daoist text as part of a morning reflection. A portion of it follows.
“The Master has no mind of her own.
She works with the mind of the people.”
As I reflected on this portion, I felt like it connected to my own experiences as a Peace Intern. I have gained knowledge through this journey, but I have also gained wisdom. I gained knowledge through researching topics, gaining background information, and applying various lenses to the topics. Wisdom is different though. Wisdom is, I believe, less able to be qualified than knowledge.
However, much like the Daoist text suggests, I need a community to help me find that wisdom. So far, this summer has provided the perfect community for this growth. If you give a youth an opportunity to be thoughtful in a space that they feel safe to do so, you will be swept away by what you can learn.
Take, for instance, a young woman in Florida who shared that “forgiveness is for finding peace within yourself,” and then went on to talk more about the damaging nature of holding on to anger. Another example is the camper who, after learning about toxic masculinity, allowed himself to get emotional at campfire and clapped back at a negative comment about it by saying “it’s okay for me to cry, even if I’m a boy.”
There are countless opportunities every day for us to engage in difficult, meaningful, civil conversation with young people, old people, any people. Let’s do so, it’s worth it.
The world is so often judgmental, be different. The world is dismissive of young voices, be different. Be better.
Sunset at Loch Leven in the San Bernardino National Forest
Have you ever cried in a bathroom stall where your knees hit the door with your morning coffee in hand that’s filled with more tears than coffee creamer because you’re tired and haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a month?
Have you ever sat in an airport with no music playing through the headphones in your ears because the only sound you want to hear is silence?
Have you ever ate arugula with no salad dressing for dinner because camp food is just bread?
Have you ever stood in the shower where the water pressure is basically a drippy faucet and wondered what the difference between grace and forgiveness is?
If you answered “yes” to any of the questions above, you were probably a Peace Intern— or at the very least, a camp counselor.
Y’all, sometimes camp is hard. For the most part it’s all communing with nature, campfires, and gooey marshmallows. But it’s also hearing stories that fill your head so full that when you finally come back to reality, you realize you’ve ran 4 miles— when you only meant to run 2. It’s also a powerful vespers that leaves you tossing and turning in your bunk. It’s the hard climb upward to your mattress at the end of a long, hot day of no air conditioning.
It’s easy to become burnt out after a rough week, but then there’s laughing and dancing. Those two things combined with mountains painted in sunset orange have the tendency to renew your spirit. After four weeks of camp, my body is letting me know how tired it is. But nothing is more sore than my heart. I’ve heard so many stories about loss, heartbreak, discrimination, and downright hatred that my morning runs are filled with plenty of material to chew on. After it’s all been said and done, I can’t help but be grateful that we provide at least one week of healing, love, and grace for these kids. My mind can’t even fathom what would happen if we weren’t here doing this work.
As I approach the halfway point of my summer, I am reminded of all the beauties and intricacies of camp. I am reminded that high-school kids are hilarious. Inclusive communities are all around, if you create the space for them to be. Living in the south, I am in a constant state of divisiveness. Being at camp helps me realize this isn’t true everywhere. I have become more aware of my own ability in creating these spaces. This harkens my spirit to continue this throughout the rest of my coming weeks of camps, but also within my own divisive reality back home.
A tradition at Loch Leven is to have a toast before every meal. So, here’s a toast to Loch Leven:
To laughing until I cry. To friendship bracelets. To starbursts. To patio talks. To vulnerability. To small showers and big spiders. To lizards that hide in the bushes. To meeting “that guy”. To chakras. To that scary swinging bridge. To no cell service. To Target. To the movie theater skit in the talent show. To great counselors. To great directors. To strawberries. To tent-talks. To sleeping under the stars. To shabbat-shalom. Thank you.
A redeeming sunset after a rainy day at KBY.
““Still, I check my vital signs
Choked up, I realize
I’ve been less than half myself
For more than half my life””
In a job where new people and places could quite easily turn into a game of revolving doors, it’s been especially important for me to recognize where I end, and others begin. The words written above are from my favorite musician’s (Sleeping at Last) most recent song, Atlas: Nine, the final piece to a series cataloguing the nine types of the Enneagram. This song was released on the final day of my very first camp of the summer (Chi Ro kiddos in Anadarko, Oklahoma). Cocooned in my sleeping bag-- I cried, then got really angry. I was angry at the way the lyrics neglected to affirm me and the way he had exposed everything I’ve spent my life trying to conceal from everyone. My friends tried to explain the bright side of the words, but I was not having it. So, I spent some time at my home camp, Kum-Ba-Yah in Kentucky, processing with my minister, Anne.
““There’s so much
worth fighting for
You’ll see””
I reflected on my relationships, broke down my afflictions with conflict. I was starting to see parts of myself I never knew existed. My second week of the summer came to a grand crescendo as all that I had known camp to be seemed to come together with divine design. The last time I had seen the graduating seniors was when they were freshmen and I was the one saying farewell to my time at KBY as a camper. I had counseled the rest of the campers when they were in Chi Ro a couple years back. And one of the directors, billy, and the beloved Sugar Bear, were celebrating their 10th summer at camp together. Their first year was the first time I had ever been to KBY and quite honestly the year that everything changed for me. This was billy’s last summer at Kum-Ba-Yah for a while (sending all the love and shalom to you in this new season, billy, you changed us all). All in all, this was a week of reclaiming missed opportunities for fellowship from my time as a camper, creating a space for others to fully embrace who they were meant to be, and of reconciling with myself for all the things I haven’t been brave enough to do. Reconciling with myself for not knowing myself well and for not always standing up for what I believe in.
““So show me what to do
To restart this heart of mine
How do I forgive myself
For losing so much time?””
As a Peace Intern, one of my biggest preaching points has been centered on identity and storytelling. I explain empathy and communication through the lens of stereotyping and the danger of speaking for the oppressed. This is something that lands near and dear to my heart. Maybe it’s our country’s political climate or the rise of social media, but people in our society have a crippling inability to enter into vulnerable spaces with one another. We don’t talk to each other anymore. We don’t ask questions or share stories. So many people feel alone. I believe peace is something that blooms from within; you can’t have genuine peace with others until you’ve found peace within yourself. Every camp has been unique in its own way, but I’ve found one universal truth across the board—camp is always the safest place in the world for young people. In Alabama, I was met with passion for justice, love, and extraordinary light shining deep from within the staff and campers alike. We gathered around the ever-widening Table and asked what it meant to show up for one another. The answers settled, like sediment in a still river, on the word ‘beloved.’ Stripping ourselves of the names we’d been given by this world, we began to understand the impact of a Love so great that it asks for nothing but our authentic selves. A few came to terms with their sexuality, many faced their fears and anxieties in the face of vulnerability, and others summoned enough courage in themselves to shed light on the questions many are too fearful to ask. (Have you ever asked what the star over the manger actually was? Hint: probably wasn’t the North Star) Ultimately, authenticity is all any of us can ever ask of one another. And that’s a hard lesson I’m learning to breathe life into.
““We were born to try
To see each other through
To know and love ourselves and others well
Is the most difficult and meaningful
Work we’ll ever do””
Since my first listen, this song has started to grow on me. Partially thanks to all those I have forced to listen who have heard only hope in the words wake up. Slowly I am starting to hear the hope too. I’m rolling up my sleeves, ready to face all that crosses my path or crawls to the surface. High schoolers are better at this than most people, at least at camp anyway. They are able to show up to the Table, knowing and accepting themselves and others as beloved. We can no longer afford to be silent in matters of peace. We cannot keep putting off the conversation. We cannot, as the Church, fail to show up for God’s beloved children. I am rubbing my eyes and allowing the authentic me to come into focus. Three weeks in and I’ve got a good feeling that I won’t be the same person I was a month ago at the end of all of this.
As we move forward in this summer and our lives, I invite you to reclaim who you were before the world got its hands on you. I invite you to remember. I invite you to wake up.
Whoever you are, just know I love you.
P.S. Thank you to everyone who has sent me letters and care packages! You are an incredible encouragement to me!
The view from my cabin at La Foret.
As all great stories begin, we were sitting at a Red Robin in Colorado Springs.
That morning I was in Kansas with Chi Rho kids (and all the grace that comes with that). Five days before that I was in Colombia visiting internally displaced communities and wrestling with the idea of peace. And after all of the plane naps and swimming pool slides and variations in climate, I’d made it to Red Robin in one piece, ready to take on my first week of CYF.
After various discussions on burgers, donuts, and all things life and luxury, we departed back to La Foret where I met the camp staff and youth leaders that would become the spiritual foundation of the week. It’s weird how one night of freezing to death and using a couch cushion as a pillow can bring you into a positive mindset for a week of camp. 48 youth and 14 staff made up the dream team of seamless transition times, easy registration, and a week of even parts laughter and tears. Through workshops on social movements, LGBTQIA+ pronoun inclusion, and B.Y.O.Q. (Bring Your Own Questions; that actually turned into a three-person sharing of life stories and a discovery of a hidden identity), I learned more than I taught, I laughed uncontrollably, and heard a sentence that has altered my existence on this planet.
When asked by airport employees, random parents at camp, or any random heartbeat that wonders what I’m doing this summer I have a hard time explaining what Peace Interning is. I give them the usual tagline about social justice, peace, and the Gospel. But, that doesn’t even scratch the surface, right? I can’t explain camp dances, waterslides, or getting matching manicures in small group with “Joaquin Who’s Bringing the Good Juice”. I also can’t seem to fit in all the crazy spiritual conversations with high school kids on the side of a mountain about the human experience— which by the way, they know quite a bit about— the tears shed on Saturday when friends part for a year, or the way a camp worship makes me want to recommit my life to Christ all over again.
I am continually thankful for the hospitality, the conversations, the nitty-gritty of set-up and take-down, and most of all, I am grateful for a swift-moving Holy Spirit. I am continually reminded of grace, forgiveness, mercy, and kindness on this journey. We are all walking along this journey with bags on our backs, knotted-up and torn heart strings, and hurried minds. All of our humanities are tied up in one another’s humanities. So, the next time someone asks me what I’m up to this summer, I will tell them that I am exploring our humanity through a lens of peace and justice, with Jesus, and with a belly full of camp food (and a couple bruises from tennis and waterslides).
Sunset over the beautiful Calamus Reservoir at Kamp Kaleo
For those of you who don’t know, I’ve been accepted as a Disciples Peace Fellow this summer. It means that I’ll be spending my whole summer traveling to various summer camps across the nation – spreading ideas about social justice and peace to young people all over the United States. Part of the reason I chose to pursue this opportunity is because I have so much faith in the power of youth to positively impact the world. The past week has only served to solidify that belief, and I’m sure that the weeks to come will continue to bolster my faith in the next generation.
“Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity.”
I am a preparer. I was prepared to present my workshops. I was prepared to deal with any backlash I could have received. I was prepared to sleep less, to be more energized, to constantly be out in nature. I made lists. I packed carefully. In my opinion, I had done everything that I could think of to be prepared for this journey.
I was not prepared, however, for my first week of camp. I was not prepared to be loved, and to give love, so fully this past week. I was not prepared for the joy I would feel when campers connected to the workshops I was giving. I was not prepared to bond so readily with strangers, only to have to leave when the week was over. I was not prepared to let go, knowing that I would likely not be back soon. Overall, I was not prepared for the emotional rollercoaster that would be my first week, and I don’t know if it will get any easier to leave each camp. These campers are astounding individuals who are thoughtful, who care about others, who have a passion for peace.
I feel honored to be able to do the work that I am this summer, it’s already been so transformational. Thank you Kamp Kaleo, for making sure that my first ever week at camp was one to remember. Here’s to feeling a little more prepared for the end of this week, with the understanding that there are some things you can’t prepare yourself for.
{This post originally appeared at https://elsiecroasdale.wordpress.com/2019/06/10/i-was-not-prepared}
2019 Peace Intern Pen Pals
For the past two years DPF has asked our friends and supporters to volunteer as Pen Pals for our Interns for the summer. The response has been amazing! Many of you responded and followed through to great effect. Our Interns certainly felt your love and support.
So, we are continuing the Peace Intern Pen Pals Program again this summer! If you (or your church or youth group) would like to participate, please send an email to Rebecca Littlejohn, our Pen Pal Program Organizer. You can choose the level of commitment that works for you, from sending one letter or card to one intern to sending care packages to all three interns. Once we know what you’re up for, we will send you an assignment, including the date for your letter or care package and the intern’s name and address for that week.
Everyone loves getting mail at camp, and when you’re at camp all summer, it’s even more important. Thanks for helping us support our Interns throughout a long, exciting (but exhausting) summer!
Sign-up by May 27 and support the 2019 Peace interns throughout the summer!
Follow the Interns!
Welcome to the new “Follow the Interns” Blog!
This will be the place to keep up with 2019 DPF Peace Interns (Heidi Holgate, Elsie Croasdale and Courtney Sells) as they spend the summer traveling far and wide to Disciples Church Camps in order to share the Gospel imperative of peace and justice.
From June through August our Interns will be traveling to twenty-four different camps/conferences across twenty different Regions, plus attending General Assembly!
Check back here at the beginning of the summer to hear what our Interns are up to.
Previous year’s Peace Intern blog posts are being switched over to the new site in batches. Slowly but surely they will all show up in this space, though the formatting might not be perfect. Thanks for reading!
This week I am writing from Moon Beach in Wisconsin for the peace interns closing retreat. A family camp is going on during our retreat so we have been taking turns having campfire talks about our summer and social justice issues but that is not the main focus of why we are here this week. The main point is for us to be together and close out the summer. It is so wonderful to have the three of us back together even with it being bitter sweet that the summer is ending. During this week we have been talking to one another about how our different camps have been going and learning so much from each other. It has been wonderful being able to sit down with the other interns because they understand the things that you have been doing. The peace internship is one of those things that is really difficult to explain to someone. For you to truly know what it is like you must do it for yourself and that is why we are so happy to have this time together.
It is also a time for us to relax and prepare ourselves to enter back into the "real world". Camp is a place that is so important because it is the ideal of what the world should be like, it is kind, accepting, and people are treated the way they should be out in the "real world". The thing I know I want to do is bring a bit more camp back with me to help the world be more like camp. That is why I think that despite the fact that my adventure of this summer is ending, that my journey is going on. I want to help shape the world into a kinder and more accepting place. I want to help show the importance of social justice and help it really make a change in this world.
I went out this summer to form connections with campers, link the different camps, help build faith, and most importantly teach about social justice. That seed was planted in campers and I just have to trust that it grows. However the thing I can confirm is that the campers taught me and helped me grow so much as a person and in my faith. There is no way that I am the same person that entered into this internship and I am truly grateful for that growth. This is something I am going to carry with me for the rest of my life. I plan on bringing it back to my region in Virginia as well and maybe it will help us grow as a community.
This summer has truly been amazing and I can not be more thankful to be able to have this experience and meet so many amazing people. I also know that I have made friends for life in the other interns and we will treasure the experiences we have had over this summer and over this week. We have laughed and cried. We have had deep discussions while in a middle of a lake on a kayak or paddle board as well as goofy ones. We have been each others support during the summer, making sure that we have kept in contact with one another. These ladies are amazing and have done amazing things. I also want to thank everyone who has been of help this summer especially our coordinator, Phoebe, because without her we could have done none of what we did.
Now it is time to continue my journey and start the new chapter in my life. I will continue to fight for justice and act out my ministry every day of my life. I am ready to share my knowledge with the world as I become a teacher. Disciples Peace Fellowship has meant the world to me and I will always support it because the world needs a little more peace, love, justice, and camp.
I have just about finished my summer of camp life. Wow, has it been an incredible experience in so many ways. I was made an honorary Oregonian, so I think I’ve hit my prime. I think I summarized in my last post the importance of this internship to my personal growth, so I'll leave it at that.
Before I end my time as a peace intern, I wanted to touch on one justice issue that came up at one of my camps: how we do mission, as Disciples of Christ, as Christians, and as human beings who honestly care about others. I apologize if this is totally an opinionated rant, but I think we all need to re-evaluate our reasoning and motivations when doing mission.
Why do we do mission? Well, mission in terms of global outreach in the DOC church is done through Global Ministries, whose mission statement is "to receive and share the Good News of Jesus Christ by joining with global and local partners to work for justice, reconciliation, and peace." What do we mean by sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ? I feel like this is a theological question that can be taken in so many different ways. To some people this literally means going to other countries and telling people about God. To others, and to me, it means acting the way that Jesus would by valuing individuals and recognizing the worth in each person. From what I've heard and experienced, DOC does a good job of doing mission through working toward peace, justice and relationship. However, this does not always translate to everyone's view of mission. I think we sometimes inaccurately picture a missionary as a white US citizen going into a third world country and "saving" people- which completely devalues those individuals, made in God's image. I think we also have a definition of success, without realizing there can be other definitions. Can you honestly say there is an exact right way to live, other than just loving each other? If you can, you should probably re-evaluate how much you think you know about the universe. At a camp this summer, I watched a video of an indigenous person describe being handed a mirror by a white man, told he was dirty and was living in sin, told to clean himself and then given a t-shirt and a bible and suddenly he was "saved." This is not mission. This is forcing western values onto people that never asked to have their lives disrupted.
Instead of believing that we know the right way and that God is limited to our knowledge, let us learn from people who are different than us. Mission at its worst can be a way for rich, white Americans to go see the world and pity “the other” all the while building their nationalism and feeling like some sort of savior that deserves all that God has to offer. On the other hand, mission at its best can be connection, love, and relationship. Let us recognize the presence of God when we are CONNECTED to people and when I say connected, I mean we have listened to them. Tell me about your problems and I’ll tell you about mine. Tell me what you love to do and I’ll tell you what I love to do. Let me meet your family and learn what you’re afraid of. I can feel God swelling with pride and happiness to see Her unique children coming together in the name of love.
All this to say that I think Global Ministries does a great job, as indicated by their values- community, mutuality, justice, peace, and presence. And also- take a moment to think critically about the missions you support- are they motivated by intentional relationships and true compassion or by the need to feel powerful? Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
Love,
Peace Intern Grace
I want to begin by answering a question that was posited to myself and the other interns: Where have we seen God this summer?Some answers were similar: other people, the natural world. One person said a frog, that was pretty specific.
One place that I've seen God is planes.For those of you who know me, you know how much I like to fly. I'm not a big fan of turbulence, and when the air gets a bit too rough, I'm reminded of the fact that I'm in a big sky bus and that humans are not supposed to fly. To top it off, O'Hare is the airport I fly out of most, and O'Hare is a huge and complicated hot mess of an airport, and Chicago's nickname of the "Windy City" doesn't really help with the whole, "I don't do turbulence" thing.
Yet I still fly. I flown with school groups to Ireland and Romania, and by myself to Amsterdam and Ghana, not to mention the twenty or so plane rides that I'll be taking this summer.
So how could I possibly see God in a vessel that sometimes terrifies me?
Theologian and philospher Rudolf Otto writes in The Idea of the Holy that the numinous, a sort of divine power, can evoke mysterium tremendum in us, a feeling of extreme terror and fascination. I think Otto's terminology best describes what overwhelms me when I'm 34,000 ft above the ground. You see, I'd normally close my eyes and "try to sleep" for a majority of my flights, when in reality, I'm trying to remind myself that this turbulence is not happening.
This summer was both challenging and rewarding.It was such a blessing to be given the platform to share about what it's like to live under Occupation in Palestine.
I felt like it was one of the most influential things I could do for my country-- to voice the plea and cry of justice and freedom of the Palestinian people to the world (specifically in Nebraska, Kansas, Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia, Florida, and Washington)Kamp Kaleo- My guinea pigs. Thanks for being so patient with me. You guys helped me kick off the summer so well.
Camp Tawakoni-Camp Wakondaho- You all embodied the Palestinian struggle. I was amazed at how everyday someone wouldI hope that the relationship with DPF and Global Ministries and the YWCA of Palestine continues past just this summer and stretches to future projects as well.
