proud

I have never thought of myself as someone who brags, but I brag on Ryan to my friends a lot. I mean, there is a lot to brag about. Yesterday I got to see him win such a special award and I am just so proud of him.

I can't say that I fully understand some of the things on his resume, but I have gotten a better grasp of it after yesterday, I think. Student Foundation is an organization that Ryan has been a member of for 3 years, having a leadership role for 2 of those years. Honestly, I still barely understand Student Foundation. They have a few events that I recognize, but beyond planning a few events I always felt like there were just so many meetings. Clearly I'm missing something or maybe I was just jealous that StuFo stole Ryan away from me for a few hours a week! From my outsider perspective, and from playing games on his phone and therefore seeing e-mail and text pop-ups and getting into about StuFo news that way, I saw Ryan being so professional, helpful, and kind even in a group text. Believe me, I've been a passive aggressive party in a group text before; people back out and bail on you and it feels good to make those little jabs like "Well okay, since none of you all decided to do X-task, I will set aside everything I have going on and do it all by myself." One thing I love about Ryan is that he doesn't say little bitchy things like that to people like I do. Even though sometimes - not StuFo necessarily - situations will arise and I'm like, "OMG Ryan are you kidding me? This person is dumb as rocks and CANNOT spell- they screwed up, it's their own fault, this isn't your responsibility, etc.," I love that Ryan doesn't listen to my snarky advice (most of the time...okay 99% of the time...) and he maintains his professional kindness with others.

Did that make sense? You know, people talk all about character and stuff when it comes to leadership. I'm just like don't be a jerk and don't take advantage of people and get stuff done. Ryan accomplishes all three of those things. That's why I think he's a good leader.

Anyways, last night Ryan and I went to the awards ceremony for an organization called Stelos Alliance. From what I understand, it is an organization that seeks to award scholarships to student leaders. Like I said, I don't always fully understand the things on Ryan's resume completely. Going into the event, Ryan and all of the other award recipients knew that they would win a scholarship of some kind, but did not know which scholarship or for what amount. Some scholarships were $500, some more, and one scholarship was $5,000. Obviously the biggest scholarship was saved for last, so the night went on and one by one all of the recipients were called up to be honored for their leadership and service to their fellow students. There were six students left when, by some mistake, the pictures of five students flashed up on the screen to receive a Student Foundation scholarship. It happened so fast, but everyone saw and laughed. I wasn't quite sure how everything worked, but Ryan's face was not among those five. My first thought- Did Ryan win the final scholarship? My next thought- wait... so is Ryan not receiving a scholarship? I will say a third time that I don't completely understand all of these organizations and things. So we waited and, apparently Ryan knew at that point he won. For some reason, when they called him up there, my eyes got watery. Well, I wasn't going to cry because that would be weird, but I was so proud of Ryan. The president of the organization awarding the scholarship shared some wonderful details about Ryan that, in my opinion, only barely scratched the surface of what a kindhearted, worthy, and deserving individual Ryan is, and he also called Ryan by the wrong name once (which was funny/awkward/funny). I felt so proud to look up there and see RG  in his sharp tan suit and gold eBay tie I ordered from China for $4 last week (LOL). He stood so tall and maintained his usual humble nature as he stood next to someone showering him with praises and affirmations. It was so special.

The scholarship, the Bill Hogue Memorial Scholarship, was created after a TX State student, Bill Hogue, was tragically killed 6 weeks after his graduation in 1988. A lot of sentimental thoughts about Bill were shared last night and he sounds like he was really a wonderful man. Ryan has a lot in common with him, I believe- both well liked by their peers, both always worked, they both loved the Square, they both were members of StuFo, and they both were involved in the Catholic Student Center despite all of their responsibilities in organizations, in school, and at work. How rare that someone can accomplish so much and maintain a giving spirit and cultivate their spiritual life in such a way? Or perhaps that is how they both managed to do so much- having their faith be a central part of their lives in states of such chaos that is college life. I wish they had mentioned this connection last night because that was the most wonderful part of it, in my opinion. I'm sure that the alliance was aware of that connection and I hope that they realize what a special bond that is between the two men.

I didn't think I would be so touched or would be so overwhelmed with pride after something like last night, but I am just so proud. Okay, better study for my test that's in 20 min!

office hours

Can't sleep and remembered that I meant to blog about a week I had in December.

I've written before about how I have trouble figuring out grief. When Jon Scharfenberger passed away, I felt strange for mourning because I really barely knew him. We had a few very brief conversations in group settings, but when he was in that accident... I felt so much pain for him. I remember crying and praying and sitting in the chapel just at a loss for words. I didn't understand how to process the grief I was experiencing because I felt like I wasn't allowed to be so sad for someone I barely knew. I think part of the reason Jon's death hit me so deeply was that he was so involved in the movement and so young - it felt so close to home. It felt like a that could've been me... or any of us kind of thing. Well that feeling returned this past December.

One of my classmates in the school of social work passed away. She, too, was a passenger in a fatal car accident. She was 25 years old and had a precious young daughter. When I received the e-mail about the news, I felt so much guilt because I was not sure who she was. This woman who I have shared classes with for the past few semesters... I couldn't even be sure if I was picturing the right person. That was just a shameful moment for me. Then I searched for her on Facebook and found her... and I wept. It was an eerie feeling reading her "about me" and "favorite quotes." The part that broke my heart twice over was about how she was so ready to graduate and get her career as a social worker going... and how she loved her babygirl more than anything in the world. It was heartbreaking to read. How can someone be here one day, in class, on Facebook... and so quickly gone the next? It really could've been any of us... it could've been me... and oh that poor little girl... only two years old. Will she even remember what her mother looks like?

I began processing what happened and dreaded going to my social work classes that week. The professors would obviously mention what happened... and sometimes bad news just doesn't get easier to hear, even when you know what's coming. It was hard keeping it together as the attendance sheet was passed around the classroom and her name was still there; her usual desk was empty in the back of the room. This reflection brings me to tears. In my second class of the day, after managing to hold it together pretty well, my professor started to share the news again in case some students had not heard about our classmate's fate. Once again, her absence from the room felt so evident. She was quiet and sat in the back of the room, seemingly unnoticed, but that day... her absence was deafening.

Our professor, a strong and confident woman, began to share the basic facts of what happened. She was gentle and rehearsed... then she broke. She said, "I'm sorry - I told myself I wouldn't do this - " and she cried for a minute. I sat in the far back left corner of the room and I just put my head against the wall and let my hair cover my face and closed my eyes. She continued, "I just - can't believe it. Just on Thursday she was in my office hours and we were talking and now -- " and she cried.

The week went on and deadlines for our huge papers came up and questions about grad school dug knives into my stomach. I felt terrible. I felt the same mix of grief, guilt, why-not-me that I'd felt after Jon's passing. I guess I should be grateful for that confusion because it means I have not had to grieve the loss of too many loved ones in my life, but it was still hard. Eventually, my emotional and mental stress manifested itself in my schoolwork. I did terribly on an assignment I worked so long on. I just felt so depressed. Hopeless. So I went in to my professor's office hours thinking we would discuss my paper after she so graciously allowed me to go through it again.

I ended up crying in her office and a deeply buried existential crisis came out of nowhere in the form of "AM I EVEN GOING TO BE A GOOD SOCIAL WORKER?" and turned into a whole life-purpose questioning. My fears about my resume - how it is nearly 100% pro-life related - emerged. "SOCIAL WORKERS THINK 'PRO-LIFE' MEANS CRAZY. NO ONE WILL EVER WANT ME AT THEIR GRAD SCHOOL." And I just broke down (sense a recurring theme for this week? take a shot every time I have a breakdown... you'll be drunk in no time!). Luckily, this was no ordinary professor. This was a woman who loves what she does, cares about her students, and is basically who I want to be when I am a social worker one day. I've taken her for 3 classes and have gotten to know her somewhat personally and have grown to respect her immensely. After a week faced with fear of my own future, experiencing the termination of another's future, grief, stress, and self-doubt, she said one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me. We spoke about the abundance of pro-life work on my resume and how it can be phrased to appeal to individuals who may not be pro-life and, knowing she is pro-choice, that gave me comfort. She told me that I could be a social worker and still maintain my values and she said, "you wouldn't judge women who have had abortions, you wouldn't judge men who abuse their children." Oh and I tell you, just that little bit of confidence in me that she had in that statement...it's what I needed to keep from spiraling further into crisis mode. I don't even know why I'm writing about this but I just want to remember it one day. I wish I could have recorded that conversation, minus my sniffling and blowing my nose, and I could just listen when I am feeling like the only one of my kind in a sea of "choice." I don't know why I wrote this, really, but I can't sleep and started thinking about that comment my professor made to me and then reflecting on Amanda's passing and it just felt good to get that out.

(from BHLDN pinterest)

"you seem different"

The title of this post is what someone said to me last week. I ran into a girl I lived in the dorms with my freshman year (three years ago) and we caught up on each others' lives. She said that I seemed different. I said in response, "thank you. I think I am."

The beginning of my pro-life work was a choice for me; it was my own little fiat. However, it felt like a whirlwind. I think that moving away from home for the first time and entering this whole new dimension of college definitely made me cling to anything I could that seemed constant. For me, I knew my pro-life beliefs to be sacred and I hold that truth in my heart now, but at the time, it seemed that being pro-life meant being surrounded by pro-life people and those pro-life people were all pro-guns everywhere, anti-gay people ever experiencing any form of joy, anti-anything Obama ever said... even if he said "I like Mountain Dew" or something as inconsequential as that. I thought to myself, "I am pro-life, do they expect me to be this?" I knew I couldn't be that person and I didn't want to be that person. In a way, it's like I was going on a road trip with conservative people but once I got in the car I just put my iPod in and blasted pro-life things into my ear to tune out those things I disagreed with. Does this make sense?

I am different now. I have experienced what some may call self discovery, others may say that I have been liberalized by an evil public education system. I like to think that I have discovered the heart of compassion and I am trying to take up residence there. The rent is low and the peace is free.

I am different now. Life prescribed me some chill pills and I've learned that whispered truth is more effective than a megaphone. I think some of these changes have been due in part to switching my major to social work. It is ironic, because there is not much outspoken support for pro-life views in my social work classes... aside from some of my own interjections here and there, there really isn't any. Despite the difference of values in that arena, I find so much common ground and common compassion for the good of the human being - aside from the period of conception until birth. I find that these people in my classes share many of my values. These people are veterans, caseworkers, lesbians, gay men, Muslims, atheists, vegans, Christians, mothers, fathers, liberals. I love the diversity and I love the sharing that goes on in the classrooms. I love that they have taught me from their shared experiences. I love that they have, in their own small ways, made me different.

I think back on freshman year and wonder how many people I rubbed the wrong way because I just didn't have myself figured out. Hell, I still don't have myself figured out. I am grateful though for that chance encounter with my old friend. Those words were just what I needed for another bout of introspection.

bursts of self knowledge

I feel like I have made some significant progress in learning about myself lately, namely through my time in Houston. It is through learning who I am not that I am discovering who I am. I've addressed the whole "who I am" thing in regards to negative Pro-Lifer stereotypes, but within the Pro-Life community I am discovering my role and my skills and my values.

Role: I don't feel like I am meant to ever dedicate my career to full time Pro-Life work in a Pro-Life organization, but of course I will "be" Pro-Life in whatever I end up doing (I mean, duh). Right now, I think my role is to lead Bobcats for Life for another semester, or maybe 2. I really feel like I need to pass that role off to someone else... fast.

Skills: I don't think I have skills that are compatible for a 9-5 staring-at-a-computer-screen job. As a, God willing, future social worker, I need people and interaction to get through the day. I think I could work on a macro level for some time, but I don't think that would be the best fit for me... at least for the near future. The things that are fun for me are writing, talking, taking pictures, Tweeting, using social media, planning (turtle races, anyone?), talking to moms, playing with babies, and anything right brained, really.

right click for link to source. Love this picture.

Values: Everyday, a new comment or thought or piece of hate reminds me that I am, by no means, a republican. I don't know if I'm a democrat or whatever. I know that I am pro-life. I know that when I see a homeless person sitting outside McDonald's, I want to buy them food and I don't want them to pay me back- even if they are an alcoholic or a drug addict; there is no means test to get a Big Mac from Sarah Ryan. I know that when a family in Mexico feels scared because their neighborhood is overrun by drug cartel and they want to come to America, I want them here and I hope they are my neighbor. I know that when a friend of mine had a terrible health crisis and I took her to the hospital, the fact that she was uninsured was the last obstacle she needed to face at that time and it broke my heart to think that she may have to suffer because of the uninsured family situation she was born into. I don't say "blacks" when I talk about African Americans. If you say something or someone is "retarded," I will call you out on your ignorance; if I thought you were ignorant before the comment, I will call you out and also potentially humiliate you (sorry I'm not sorry! and this method of calling out/humiliation also applies to the *cussword* who, after OKC beat the Spurs, said "I hope OKC gets bombed again." You're an embarrassment to humans.). I believe in social justice, so call me a "communist" or "marxist" if you want (or if you are cray cray), but I don't really care, because at the end of the day- being a decent and kind communist would be better than being a heartless, racist conservative- as seen here.

It's funny to watch myself evolve, or rather, to unlock parts of my heart or conscience that I wasn't aware of before, or maybe I just wasn't aware of the depth of that part of my heart. That is the experience I've had with my empathy for the homeless; I always knew I cared like any not crappy human would, but I'm realizing how special that population is to me. Don't know why though.

Well, that's enough reflection, or rather introspection, for the day!

and just like that I am new.

Here I am, 2 hours later, feeling restored.

My frustrations have been conquered by the love shown to me by my D.C. sisters.

When I am down, they pick me up. When I need a warm word to cheer me, they are like hot cocoa for my heart. I miss them so much.

Also, now I am crying. NRL Academy girls, if you are reading this, I love & miss yall more than you know!

let me live

I wish I had my guitar with me here in DC! All I have with me is this rough video from last fall. Hmmph. This is a song I wrote last November. I had just been thinking a lot about the unborn and how helpless they are. I started wondering how different things might be if they could speak up, if somehow they could express themselves other than kicking and swimming around. I sometimes joke that I wish that God could text or Skype so that my life would be a lot "easier" but what if the unborn could communicate with us- is there any unborn child that would say abortion is the way to go, mom? I'm also reminded of a saying my freshman year roomie Michelle liked- given a choice, they'd want a chance. 

If she spoke her first words today, could you still go through with it?
Would you listen to what she'd say?
If you could ask her what to do, what advice would she give?
Something like love me, let me live.

not society, not we, but ME

Love isn't something you can just say or pray,

loving is serving and giving away.

Nighttime rant! I hate the word SOCIETY. I hate it because it is thrown into generalizations all the time and it is blamed for everything. The problem with that is that most of these people, myself included, are making these statements without taking a step back and remembering- oh, hey, I'm a part of this society I'm talking about. This society is a 'we' and I am included. Oops. We, I, have to stop hiding the ME behind the WE and accept culpability for the problems we, you, I see.

I'm going to bold the blame that we need to face rather than reassign to a vague group, a society, a larger "we."


We, I, can sit around and talk about getting healthcare for everyone all day, but when we- when I - pass the amputee asking for change on the street because he can't get a job, we, I, don't give him change and talk to him and ask him if he is receiving the treatment he needs or whether there is ramp access for him to whatever buildings he needs to go to.

We, I, can talk about Jesus and His love for us and the Bible all day long, but when we- when I - don't put into practice the instructions we have been given by this Man we, I, claim to love and when we, I, are not following the instructions of this Book we claim to be fueled by... what do we become? what do I become
Maybe a resounding gong... maybe a clanging cymbal...

We, I, have to be the answers to our own- to my own - prayers. Pray for the needy, feed the needy. Pray for the naked, clothe the naked. Pray for the hopeless, offer them hope. Pray for the unloved, love them.

Accept that YOU are the problem sometimes. I am the problem when I fail to love, as I do often.

An American soldier, after liberating the Jews, said:

How could we [the world] have stood by and let that happen to them?

so how can we, the world, stand by and let the injustices, the poverty, the horrors afflicted on the "lowliest" of our population happen? how can you stand by and let the injustices, the poverty, the horrors afflicted on the "lowliest" of our population happen? how can I stand by and let the injustices, the poverty, the horrors afflicted on the "lowliest" of our population happen?

Likewise, as it is wrong to assign one's own failures to love to a society, it is also wrong to assign a group's failure to love to its individuals... an example: Planned Parenthood. Clearly I am not a supporter of theirs, but to say that people who support PP are bad is wrong; it's not the people that are bad, it's the misguided compassion/misinformation. Granted, I do think there are a couple people who might not exactly know their stuff and might be too stubborn to acknowledge hard facts that prove the negative effects of abortion on women and PP's large financial gains from abortion, but not everyone is bad overall. I feel like this paragraph is "another post for another day."

I don't know if this will make sense when I reread in the morning, but I refuse to pass by another person on the streets without giving love. Mother Teresa said: "Peace begins with a smile" and sometimes, as a "broke college student" a smile is all I can afford, but maybe sometimes it could be all that a person needs.

parallels

I've never realized how much of a connection there is from abortion to homelessness to civil rights to end of life treatment and other issues. It all comes down to value of a life... and my eyes are being opened more and more everyday. 

just a few little thoughts

Whether you identify yourself as Pro-Life or Pro-Choice or if you are unsure, you still have to be respectful with your thoughts.

Granted, I am guilty of not being as respectful as I ought to be at times, but lately I feel like I am really learning (thanks in part to a section on common ground in Fr. Frank Pavone's book Ending Abortion) how to conduct myself, express myself, and understand others and where they're coming from.

Clearly I am a supporter of Life and respect for life from conception until a natural death- which means I am against abortion and against the death penalty- and I believe I have a good understanding of the issues at hand. For me, I've found that people who support abortion haven't been exposed to some truths about abortion. I remember, while being very underinformed about abortion, thinking that it should be a woman's choice... I mean, what if she was raped? or what if the baby would die right after it was born? or what if the baby was going to be disabled? All of these questions' answers were slowly revealed to me and over time I believe I have come to see the truth and understand the ethical issues that we, as human beings, are facing with an injustice like abortion present in our world. I feel that I have also considered the points that the "opposition" (using quotes on that one... opposition implies that it is an "us versus them" thing and really, the more I think about it, the more I think that it isn't an "us versus them" issue) cites, such as poor living conditions for mothers in crisis pregnancies that cannot afford to keep a child or add another child to their family or couldn't continue their education with a baby, but I've found loving and lifegiving answers to those issues in my journey to understanding Life.

While on the topic of loving answers and approaches, I just have to say something about the use of graphic imagery. I believe people who use graphic displays have good intentions but I don't believe it is as loving or sensitive as other approaches could be. As a pro-lifer, seeing the images breaks my heart in a deep way that it almost needs to be broken sometimes so as to not forget the true gravity of this injustice, but were I not pro-life... I might be so turned off by the grotesque, graphic nature that I would reject the message.

Just some frustrations. As if abortion isn't bad enough, the banter between "sides" of the issue is hurtful as well.

chaos & blessings

Today was so long and so many ups and downs in a matter of 24 hours, but it's amazing how many blessings can appear out of nowhere and blend in so naturally with the everyday chaos of life.

One moment I am dancing & squealing for joy, the next I am near tears in an elevator, then sharing a nice moment with a stranger on a golf cart, and then feeling dizzy and feverish.


But in the end, it's always a beautiful day.

It's a "Seriously?" kind of day

I try not to think about "evil" or the devil too often, but today it's kind of hard not to. I feel so often that the more I try to do, the more I am challenged and that really stinks and is not awesome.

Knowing the truth is a responsibility and sometimes I almost want to wish it away. At the end of the day it is a blessing though.

If only God would quit hiding my blessings under frustrations and inconveniences...

Peace begins with a smile: My friend Chris

I got back yesterday from my trip to DC for the March to Life. I didn't think so much hope could be restored in such a short amount of time. Over the few years of Pro-Life involvements I have been to my fair share of rallies & marches, but nothing compared to this past weekend.

St. Matthew's Cathedral

We did a lot of things during our trip and each of them, whether directly related to the Pro-Life movement, guided me to a feeling of comfort and hope. Saturday, my friend and I did a little bit of sightseeing. We planned to go to the Smithsonian but first we got coffee and headed over to St. Matthew's Cathedral. St. Matthew's is one of the churches I went to for daily Mass when I was in DC this past summer and it just has such a way to make you feel at home upon entering. When we got there, however, we were late for Mass. Outside the church was a homeless man asking for money. I asked if I could buy him lunch instead and so we went and got food for him and another man nearby and when we brought it back I asked the man if we could hang out with him while he ate. He answered, "well of course, darlin!"

Friday night before I went to bed I went into the chapel of the church we were staying in and invited the Holy Spirit into my heart. Saturday morning when I woke up I asked for a miracle or some form of spiritual blessing from God. After our time with my new friend, I don't doubt that God heard my prayers.



lit a candle for Chris

We sat down and began conversation with him and he was incredibly kind and charming. His wrinkled skin, weary eyes, and thin, patchy gray facial hair told me that he'd been having a rough time. His name was Chris. 12 years ago Chris beat kidney cancer- something he considers a miracle only God could've been capable of. Now, Chris only has one kidney and it is barely operational. Honestly, I was skeptical at first when he told us his story. He mentioned he was on dialysis before I went to get him food so I thought it must just be a way for him to try to get sympathy. However, the more into conversation we got with Chris the more I could see the honesty in his eyes. Chris, a 57 year old graduate of Catholic University of America, had won me over. This kindhearted man sitting on the steps in front of this beautiful Cathedral was battling some painful and exhausting medical conditions (he'd passed out the day before while undergoing his dialysis treatment) yet still, he was planning to attend the 5:00 Mass later that afternoon. He'd actually been confirmed in that very church nearly 4 decades earlier- just after he attended MLK's March on Washington. "I never thought I'd see the day but I surely did," he told us. His eyes had seen so much growing up and living in DC. I couldn't help but wonder how this man who'd received a good Catholic high school education and graduated from college with a promising degree had ended up outside asking for donations in freezing weather. After a while of talking we said goodbye to Chris but before that we joined hands and prayed together.

Mother Teresa & me at the Basilica

 When I walked inside the church I was in awe of God and how he chose to answer my prayer. Chris was the miracle He sent me. So often have I just walked past homeless people on the streets without really thinking about what life must be like for them. Often people tend to stereotype homeless men & women as alcoholics, and honestly I am one of those people to jump to conclusions sometimes because sometimes that is the sad truth, but this small encounter with Chris was like an encounter with Christ. When we prayed we all made the Sign of the Cross and when we asked for Mary's intercession we spoke the same words and in Chris' voice I heard true faith & sincerity. We really aren't that different at all. The only differences are that Chris hit a strand of "bad luck" and his faith can endure desperate times. I honestly don't know if I would speak of God as being merciful and loving after being through all he'd been through- even though I know that He is. His faith endures and that amazes me. In St. Matthew's I nearly cried while I prayed for Chris' healing and for restored connections with his family and for him to get back on his feet and sleep in a warm bed again. I bought Chris oatmeal but he gave me a smile and, as Mother Teresa said, peace begins with a smile. Chris gave me just the peace I needed. No matter what one's circumstances may be, where there is Life there is hope.

Being Pro-Life isn't just about loving babies. Being Pro-Life is about respecting all life- from conception until natural death and that is what we, as Christians, as believers, as non-believers, as human beings are called to do. I don't know anyone who understood this sentiment better than Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta. I admire her not because I am Catholic, although it does deepen my admiration of her in many respects, but simply as a kindhearted human being she took care of those who were forgotten by others. I think of what an impact this tiny little nun had on the world and have to wonder- what if there had been two Mother Teresas? What if there had been three? What if we all tried for one moment every day to love one another as she loved the most impoverished of people? What a world it would be.

Statue of Mother Teresa
at St. Matthew's Cathedral

"When a poor person dies of hunger, it has not happened because God did not take care of him or her. It has happened because neither you nor I wanted to give that person what he or she needed." -Mother Teresa

I asked Chris if I could write to him somehow and he told me that the Monsignor at the Cathedral has helped him out a lot so I can direct mail to the Cathedral and they'll give it to him. Although I doubt I'll ever get any replies to any letters, I am looking forward to sending him a Rosary I got on a mission trip to New Orleans a few years ago. Not sure why but I really want him to have it.

It's crazy who and what God uses to wake me up and teach me how to love.