That program was Young Adult Service Corps, or YASC for short. Like ESC, YASC is a service program run by the Episcopal Church, only a YASC year is spent serving abroad. Think of it sort of as the difference between Peace Corps and AmeriCorps.
In order to do YASC, I had to go to a two-week training before I would go on to my host site. That training was spent with my fellow YASC volunteers, and with several older adult missioners from around the church, including a man from the Diocese of Maryland, Dan Tootle.
With YASC, I served one year teaching at an Episcopal school in the northern Philippines. I knew, midway through my year there that I wanted to continue doing service work, and if possible, to do it with the Episcopal Church. I also knew I wanted to be somewhat closer than half the world away from my home. So I applied for ESC. When asked to list my top programs, I added Maryland's Gilead House because Dan Tootle asked me to do so.
The interviewing process was a bit interesting (for interesting, read sleep-deprivation, 12 hour time differences are not fun), but I knew after my first few conversations with ESC MD that I should be here.
Coming to ESC MD, each of us works with a host site during the work week, a place where we do service work focused on various poverty and justice issues in Baltimore city. I in particular work with House of Ruth Maryland, the primary domestic and intimate partner violence agency serving Baltimore city. In particular I work in the Client Service Coordination department. Basically, Client Service Ccoordination is the department that focuses on helping people leaving domestically violent situations to rebuild their lives. We connect clients to resources, help them plan their next steps, and act as an advocate for them both within our agency and while making contact with outside agencies they call for support or resources.
When I start to describe my work, people respond by saying something about how hard it must be to do this job. And they're right. It is hard. Daily there's a struggle to connect people to resources that are often full up, or that require resources that they don't have. It's hard talking to the clients, mostly women, as they tell their stories, as they speak about violence and threats, betrayals of trust and insults, about the daily ways they were terrorized and controlled by people they should have been able to count on. I hear women and men calling in, telling me that they were so stupid, asking me what they did wrong to deserve this. As if anyone could ever do something to deserve abuse. it is hard.
But what makes it worth it is that we are here. Day by day, the people at House of Ruth show up again. I go to work surrounded by healers and warriors. I work with people who go to bat every day for our clients, who dig out every possible resource, who counsel and support our clients. I work with people who help these women and men find their own worth and strength again.
ESC gave me that same opportunity to stand up. It gave me a chance to push myself beyond my limits, to see myself as strong enough to give this kind of help and support. That wasn't something I was sure I could do before this year. For that, I am grateful.
And I'm also grateful for the community that I am part of. Gilead House is filled with people who all care about the world, about giving back to the people who surround us. One thing I craved when I was doing YASC was a sense of local community, as my YASC support community was spread across the globe, often with very poor internet connections.
We interns don't always see eye to eye. We've had lots of discussions over different meanings behind words and expectations, and the precise definition of clean is still up in the air seven months in. We've had arguments that nearly shook the house, rapprochements, tense quiet, and times where we have just shoved an argument under the rug because it was useless to discuss it any further. There have been days where I've sworn that being in community was harder than my day job at my host site.
And that's what it is. Being in an intentional community like ours is hard work. Combining seven very opinionated, strong-willed individuals who mostly did not know each other at all before the year began is never an easy thing.
But just like my job, the hard work is good, is necessary. We learn from one another, from our stress and arguments and the times we want to throw each other off of a seven-story building. But we also learn from each other in the quiet moments. We learn that when someone's had a truly hard day, someone else will cover their dinner, or take on their choir. If someone's feeling sick, there will always be at least one person checking in to see if there's a need for a ginger-ale or tea run. We learn to care about one another's interests. We've learned that while getting all seven of us to do anything is like herding cats, but less productive, we can normally get three or four people going someplace and having a great time.
I know that Jarred will always get it when I rant about homelessness in Baltimore, because his work overlaps a lot with mine and he has the same frustrations and joys.
I know that Kelly will always have the best stories about the goats at her farm, and that she's always interested in going out and doing things as a group, so if I have something I want to try she'll be in for it if she can.
I know that Sarah will have a kind word for everyone, and that she will listen to everybody's day first. I know that she puts her heart and soul into her work with ESC and her work with her own charity, Hearts for People.
I know that Matthew and I can geek out a lot, and that even if we have very different takes on the same interests, we have that common pool of references to play with. And yes, bagpipes are still one of the best instruments known to man.
I know that Dan is always up for pizza, that he'll be the one to try and lighten the mood with a joke, and that he and I can do our science geek practically in unison.
I know that I lucked out in getting Clara as my roommate for half the year, that our complimentary tastes in music means that now approximately 3/4ths of our music libraries overlap, and that she will pull me out dancing every few months to remind me how much I love it.
I know that they know things like this about me now, both silly and serious, and that years on I will begin to understand how much they have shaped my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment