Yesterday I attended a roundtable discussion introducing
the students that went to a vigil in Georgia.
It reminded me of the research I did into migrant workers labor rights
and the injustice against them. I felt strongly about the research I did
because I believed there needs to be change (yay for no censuring
#chineseselfcensoring – it’s a true thing), but for some reason what the vigil
the students went to stood for didn’t quite sit well with me. There was a man who committed a crime and sent
to jail, and he wasn’t able to provide for his family because he was in jail so
he needed to fight the system so he could provide for his family. I couldn’t quite
grasp the concept of this social injustice. Do the crime, pay the time. I wasn’t
well versed on the topic at hand so I didn’t comprehend exactly what was going
on in Georgia. They should have had background information about the discussion
prior to starting the discussion. School
of America (SOA) was brought up a lot, and I couldn’t tell whether it was good
or bad. Also the election of El Salvador
was brought up and how President Obama was supporting the man who didn’t want
free public information. This discussion was all over the place. One guy
brought up that the protest (or whatever it was) was unorganized and
ineffective, but it brought awareness. While things might lack in one place,
make up for it in another and I was glad people are able to see that. It
reminded me how another guy thought cleaning up the attic at the local boys and
girls club was useless; he was blind to the indirect help he was providing. Usually these roundtables are informative, but this one was confusing.
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
An Alternative Lifestyle: Building Relationships, Finding One's self, and Taking a Break
The excitement began to build. Our
professor kept a tight lip about the farm, and the mystery of not knowing what
the farm had planned for us students allowed my imagination to run wild. I
didn't know what to expect when I arrived at the Catholic Worker farm. When my
class arrived at the site, Tom Spiritbringer was there to greet us. Tom
Spiritbringer. Spiritbringer. The nuts and bolts in my head began to turn,
trying to wrap around the idea of changing one's identity. I admired Tom for
changing his last name (I know, a not-so-typical last name) to signal that
working at this farm was a new chapter in his life. This was strange to me,
because it was new to me. Tom introduced us to the land in which we resided for
three days. It was big: 80 acres. Looking around the farm, I noticed it needed
some work, and I was glad that our class was able to help till the land (even though
we worked about an hour). Marcus Pegasus+five-other-names and Chelsea arrived
later. I could deal with a name like Spiritbringer, Pegasus was a different story.
I began to question the excitement I felt earlier about coming to this place.
Ye of little faith I was. After getting to know all three of these interesting Catholic
workers, nothing seemed strange to me, and soon I began to admire them.
Tom, Marcus, and Chelsea have
committed themselves to an alternative lifestyle. They try to live completely
off the land. Their electricity is solar powered. The farm doubles as a retreat
for those infected with HIV. There is no
judgment, only encouragement. The farm stands for more than growing food; it is
a place that provides comfort and support. What these three people (and those
before them) do at this farm is extraordinary.
Songs. Tom's beautiful singing
voice filled the air and the land. He was in touch with his inner nature. I
wore blinders in the beginning while being at the farm. I viewed the songs Tom
sang as strange and kooky. But after singing before meals, singing after reading
excerpts, singing just sing, it became natural and my earlier view disintegrated.
The singing brought our class closer to one another. Being at this farm allowed
us classmates a chance to grow and learn new things about one another. There was so much laughter and happiness inside the house we stayed in, how can one ever forget such fun? The city
could not offer what the farm offered. The night time was filled with stars
galore and a rising moon that could be spotted behind the trees. It was very
surreal.
Coming to this farm has opened my
eyes to different way of living. While I might not pursue such an intense lifestyle,
I am aware of it, and I understand what it represents.
Monday, November 25, 2013
A Concert of Musically Talented Students
Her body flowed in a seamless
motion; her fingers danced with the piano. She had been practicing all semester
for this one night. The students of Notre Dame de Namur University’s camerata
class performed their winter concert in the chapel today. All week my friend
had been stressing to me how important being at this concert was to her, and
being her “soul sister” I shouldn’t miss it. I knew of my friend’s musical
abilities, so there was no doubt that she would play wonderfully (I might be a
little bias because she also doubles as my mentor for music ministry). She had
invited me to sit in on one of the camerata classes, trying to hook me into
joining the class next year. It was then that I realized how marvelous each performing
artist in the class was. Each performer didn’t miss a beat. Attending the concert
only proved my realization. One girl had composed a piece called “Mafia Theme,”
and another (my friend) had arranged a piece from a movie; any audience member
could hear the effort and time the students put into composing and arranging. Not only was the concert great,
but it was also educational. Before playing each music piece, a speaker would
give background information on the song and composer. I learned some interesting
facts about various composers that I wouldn’t have known otherwise. There was
character in each piece performed; each student had his own style when playing
his instrument. The concert was enjoying to watch and listen to.
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