An Amusing Story

Saturday night, I watched a vampire movie with Percy and Julia. Percy insisted that it was a fantastic movie, and, to his credit, Julia really enjoyed it. Me? Not so much, but I was too tired that night for it to keep me up.

At one point in the movie, a vampire bursts into flames from sunlight.

I went to the optometrist and they dilated my eyes. Therefore, I spent this afternoon hiding from light. I felt like a vampire and couldn't stop thinking of that movie.

The Other Half

I found, in the months since I left St. Louis, that I missed kids and I missed volunteering. I also have Mondays off, and only so many of them can be filled "taking care of life" -- running errands, paying bills, cleaning the house, etc. After many failed attempts to find a place to spend my Mondays, I ended up with a group that tutors at local elementary and middle schools. Sadly, none of the middle schools had Monday slots, so I am now tutoring 4th graders at Romeo Elementary.

I'm assigned to Mrs. Smith's room. (Each tutor is with one teacher.) The last time I went, I worked with one student on long division. I noticed that Mrs. Smith wore an electronic device around her neck. I have a friend with a hearing aide and it looked like the device that he hands to professors to help with the sound. I assumed that one of the students had a similar difficulty, although I couldn't identify the particular student.

Today, I stayed in the classroom for instructional time. During it, I noticed the amazing acoustics of the classroom -- Mrs. Smith was not speaking loudly, but her voice was on math : comparing fractions. I learned a "fail-proof" method of comparing fractions.

Then things got fun. She handed out egg cartons, plastic tokens, and string to pairs of kids and explained how to make fractions out of them. They divided the carton with strings. The number of holes became the denominator. Then they filled the holes with chips for the numerator. So maybe 3 of 6 holes had chips in them.

It was all very confusing, and I settled in with two boys and helped them figure it out. As I sat on the floor, Mrs. Smith kept talking. It dawned on me that I couldn't figure out where her voice was coming from. That's when I realized that she had a projection system in the classroom -- essential, she had a microphone!

I later learned that all the classrooms at Romeo are similarly equipped. They also have document projectors that show full-color images of objects. The President's Day display had legit colonial clothing on it. Both times, someone had left goodies in the office for teachers. It's fairly clear that this school has money. Earlier in the day, I had gone to read with 3rd graders at another school, similarly shiny and high-tech. I spent a few minutes in the library there -- a large, clean room, lined with organized books, bright and shiny with a plethora of tables and chairs. For a moment I saw my library from last year and my kids. I resented the abundance here and the lack there.

So by the time I figured out how loaded Romeo is, I was predisposed to be upset. I am already enjoying the kids and learning their fun personalities, but finding out that each classroom has microphones made me a little sick. How is it that schools across the nations have such disparities? Not only are these schools so much better off than mine last year, but St. Louis public schools are even worse. It's not right, the way some children have the world in their hands while others have so little education. But it's one of those problems in this world that I have no idea how to solve.

Friday Night Plans

This post is a little late in coming -- the events took place the weekend before my retreat. I don't want to let it slide, however, so I'm going to go back in time momentarily. A couple of Fridays ago, CCM provided the volunteer force for a homeless shelter the next city over. (The 'burg has nothing of the sort, though it is not without homeless people.)

I took the check-in and dinner shift. I had worked at this shelter before -- it's housed in a Baptist church and CCM takes a weekend every year. However, I had mostly stuck in the kitchen, cooking, cleaning, and serving. This time I volunteered for the check-in process. My job was to help people bag up their possessions to be left in another room for the night. Guests could keep toiletries, food, book, mp3 players, and such not, but extra clothing, coats, hats, drinks, and any other possessions were checked in huge bags. Each guest had a number that went on his or her bag, name tag, and bed roll. They checked in with name and number. As the coordinator explained the process to me, I didn't like it. Too much focused on people as numbers.

However, when the guests began to arrive, I found that, although each person had a number, he or she was greeted by name. I discovered I enjoyed being in the check-in station, being the smiling face to greet people. Forcing myself to smile gave me real energy and joy and made each subsequent smile easier. Some of the guests were a blast, both at the initial check-in and later in the night.

Before any guest was allowed in, a sheriff's deputy gave him or her a breathalyser. No one above the legal limit could come in. Only one man had a problem the entire night. One of the other volunteers offered him a plate of food and a cup of coffee for him to have outside as he sobered up, but he was having none of it. Eventually, the deputy called for someone to come and take him away, because he just wasn't leaving.

Other than that, the evening was eventless. By the time we had finished checking in guests, dinner was mostly over. We helped clear tables and chairs out of the multi-purpose room to get ready to convert it to a bedroom. This large room was the men's sleeping area; the women and kids (there were fewer) had a different, smaller room. We handed out sheets and mats by calling out numbers. There were two of us on calling duty, and the men joked that we must have been cheerleaders. No, a loud Irish-German-Polish family does that to you.

After handing out the bedding, I joined the other volunteers in the hallway, where some of the guests came to chat. A few of them were particularly friendly, and we had some fun conversation. Then the next crew came, and I said good-byes.

The evening made me realize how much I miss last year, with its focus on serving other people and its opportunities for random volunteering. This year, I have to be more intentional about finding places to serve, and I'm still learning the balance.

Our Turn

Warning: Not for the faint of heart.

I have heard for several years now about the undercover investigations of Lila Rose and Live Action. While I was president of the College's Students for Life group, she came out with a series of videos documenting Planned Parenthood employees covering up statutory rape. (Basically, ignoring mandatory reporting laws put in place to protect children.) Fast forward to now. If you follow news in pro-life circles, or on the other side of the question at hand, you have probably heard the latest project. Planned Parenthood employees helping pimps procure abortions for victims of sex trafficking.

The first video I saw showed a facility in New Jersey. Then I discovered this link in my inbox: the video from Richmond, VA. I have stood outside of that building, armed with my rosary. While I am absolutely horrified that this is happening, it is certainly an answer to prayers to have such evils exposed to light. No matter how people conceptualize abortion, any moral person would agree to the evil of trafficking girls for sex work.

I'm putting the Youtube video below for good measure, but I urge you to click the link, read the article, and watch the unedited video.

Day-Maker #23

Father Dude: You're an instituted acolyte as well as a reader? That means you can read and light things on fire.

Seminarian: And purify vessels. And... bless... farm equipment?

Apparently someone told him this. It's veracity is currently unconfirmed.

Come to the Water

Two years ago, I said good-bye to the mountain retreat center that hosted each of my four Encounter with Christ retreats and each of my three team formations. I knew I would never be back for another such retreat. It was part of the growing up and moving on that happens when you get ready to graduate college.

Fast forward to October 2010: I am at another formation. February 2011: Another Encounter with Christ retreat.

I came as a (Young Adult) Campus Minister, rather than participant or team, which changed my experience of the weekend. Mostly, this role meant that I had a table of four participants and one team member with whom I got to pray. I watched them experience the Encounter with Christ, and I can't say a whole lot about the weekend without putting other people's stories up here. Mostly, I was a blessed witness to other people's encounters with the living God -- though He did speak some words to me as well. I am an introverted person, and on people-intensive occasions such as this retreat, I carve alone time out by waking early. Between morning walks and moments snuck with the Blessed Sacrament, God and I had a few good moments together.

The retreat experienced some changes as well -- we had daily Mass each day and Adoration for the first time. We prayed Liturgy of the Hours from the little red books and made a few other minor changes. Nothing however to keep it from feeling as beautiful as any EWC. The weekend was so full that I keep thinking I should have stories to tell, but as I wrote above, I think they belong to other people.