'tis the season

Morale has been low in these parts for the last few weeks, and at my workplace we were told that is to be expected. The girls we work with are all in our care as a direct result of trauma/abuse/neglect, which for some was made worse by the Christmas season. Many of them were (and their families still are) struggling to meet their basic needs, so presents are out of the question. All of these feelings, coupled with the stresses of being removed from your family and living amongst 44 other teenagers going through similar issues can bring out some of the worst behaviors in our girls. Couple this with the staff referring to some of the girls as ‘the worst they’ve ever seen’ and my complaints of the staff being inappropriate and burnt out since day 1, and you have a recipe for disaster.
This past week the girls on one of the floors had two separate incidents this week that can only be described as riots. They were targeting the staff, 4 of whom were sent to the hospital as a result. I believe that 5 of the girls have been arrested and are awaiting arraignment. Three of the staff who were hospitalized were supervisors, who usually command more respect from the girls. The building director, who usually works in our “corporate headquarters” has been in our building, and we are getting support staff from NSD facilities (glorified prisons, where the staff readily restrains and tranquilizes residents if they get out of control) to come support the floor as a result. More security measures are still on their way.
These incidents did not happen on my floor, but I still found them traumatizing. Hearing the screams from the residents and the staff as they are attacked makes your stomach jump out of your body and then plummet to the floor, over and over again. The staff came up to my floor to debrief together, and hearing every version of the story multiple times was like reliving a tragedy I partially experienced repeatedly for hours. Needless to say, it was a hard week at work.
To help get me (and my roommates) through this we have been discussing the events together after work, and trying to engage in as much light-hearted fun as possible. With out larger community we bought the newest addition to our apartment, a beautiful Christmas tree we have fondly dubbed Gabriel (after the man who sold it to us). We also have an ice skating trip planned for this week at Bryant Park, hosted by GSV. I have also decided to make an appointment with an art therapist. Therapy is new to me, and I look forward to being able to sort out what this year means to me, and to gain experience in a therapeutic experience that I can use in my future career as a social worker. On the weekends I have been focusing on doing things I need to do as well as enjoy simple pleasures, like going out for coffee and getting my nails done. So, for now my friends, I am off for a manicure!

close the soa!

A post about our SoA experience, beautifully written by my roommate Lara:
Two weekends ago, six of us GSVs (Alaina, me, Jess, Annie, Krystina, Madeline) road tripped down to Georgia to protest the School of the Americas. For weeks, we had planned and fundraised in order to go. In a nutshell, we decided to go to open our eyes to social justice issues outside of our NYC GSV experience. I don’t want this entry to be unbearably long, so I’ll direct you to the SOA Watch website for an explanation of what SOA is and why exactly we were protesting it: http://www.soaw.org/. But if you have any questions, feel free to ask!

So on the Friday our trip began, we six women loaded up our minivan (generously provided by our GSV program director Pete and fondly christened Darlene) and settled into our bucket seats, mentally preparing ourselves for the approximately eighteen hour drive. It didn’t disappoint. We rotated drivers, each of us driving at least once both ways, made a few wrong turns, sang to pop songs at the top of our lungs, guzzled coffee, played games, used sketchy gas station bathrooms, cheered when we crossed state lines, and snacked like there was no tomorrow (Oreos were a general fave).
Being in a van together for about forty hours over the course of the weekend (not to mention, cramped into a tiny two-bed Motel 6 room Saturday night) wasn’t exactly a soothing cup of tea the entire time. Deliriousness, crankiness, and exhaustion definitely arose. But at the same time, being in a van together as GSVs elicited good conversations, great bonding opportunities, and plain and simple fun. I couldn’t have picked a better group of women with whom to travel and share the SOA protest experience.
Let’s talk about that SOA protest experience. Now this protest wasn’t a door-banging, shouting-til-you’re-hoarse kind of protest. It was a non-violent movement. It involved awareness-raising events, a rally, and a vigil. The protest was about peacefully bringing attention to the SOA and peacefully demanding for the end of the institution.
I thought a lot about peace. Alaina used a tote bag all weekend, emblazoned with Mother Teresa’s beautiful words: “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” As a GSV and as someone who has chosen to work for social justice, I think a lot about this idea of belonging to each other. I’m understanding more and more how we are all tied up in each other’s lives. We have responsibilities to each other. And so that inevitably makes me think about the idea of “doing good.” Yes, we must serve each other, but in what capacities? How can I best use my gifts for the good of this world, so that they build and not destroy? At the same time, what can a couple thousand privileged Americans do by being at the gates of SOA?
The answer is create peace. Through the weekend, I realized that we can raise awareness, educate ourselves, and send a message of peace out into the world. We so often forget that we belong to each other. I myself sometimes look for peace as if I could pick it off of a store shelf. I wonder whether to talk to a friend, or go for a run, or journal in order to find peace. But at the end of the day, peace is solidarity. Peace isn’t a one-woman show.
At the beginning of the year at GSV orientation, we each wrote out a mission statement for ourselves. I adopted a quote from St. Mary Euphrasia (foundress of the Good Shepherd Sisters) that says, “Live in peace, unity, zeal, and trust.” I threw in “Just love” (the GSV motto) for good measure. I have tried to focus on the different aspects of that invitation in the last several months. It’s challenging. But during the SOA weekend, I began to see it in a new light. Peace is unity is zeal is trust is love. There’s a hippie saying: peace is underrated. And I’m starting to believe that. Peace isn’t the easy way out. Peace somehow has become hard work. We witnessed that at the protest, through the remembrance of those who lost their lives because they had no peace.
In the short time that we were at the SOA protest (less time than we spent on the road), we witnessed and experienced a connection to our neighbors in Latin America suffering the atrocities inflicted by SOA graduates. We couldn’t see these victims. We couldn’t hear them. But we could feel them. During the Sunday vigil, the main event of the weekend, we carried white crosses individually marked with names of victims. As singers beautifully chanted these names, we lifted those crosses into the air and solemnly responded, “Presente.” We did this for almost three hours. I felt like we were processing in the presence of those remembered. It was a very prayerful and moving experience for me.
Most victims were named. Others were not. Some crosses and chants merely proclaimed recognitions such as, “Unidentified woman, 30 years old” or “Unidentified child, 5 years old.” The word “unidentified” pulled at my heart strings. As a recent college grad, as a transplant from LA to NYC, as a volunteer and community member, my identity has been in a constant state of flux. In many ways, figuring out my identity has been my life’s work so far. I have the beautiful gift of discovering and rejoicing in my identity. Those “unidentified” persons no longer do. For violent reasons.
So, peace. Towards the end of the vigil, we had the amazing opportunity to see activists cross the line. Crossing the line means scaling the barbed wire fence surrounding the SOA and immediately receiving at least three to four months in federal prison for doing so. Two activists crossed the line on Sunday. I saw the second man, David, climb up the fence. He did so very calmly and quietly, before the throngs of people already congregating at the fence cheering and chanting his name. In an instant, he was on the other side. There were military guards waiting and they calmly took him away. I’m sure David had been preparing for that moment for months prior. It almost seemed anti-climactic. He didn’t scramble up the gate and fling himself over. He didn’t break into a run once hitting ground. The guards didn’t hustle him. It was peaceful.
David and the others who crossed the line now have a six month sentence. These activists peacefully have given up six months of their lives in the protest against the SOA. They have found the cause worth enough to give up their freedom. That is enough to make a person like me cry. And it was weird. I wasn’t expecting to, but as soon as I saw David climbing that fence, I started to cry. Something in me was moved, but utterly helpless. I could do nothing. All I could do was stand there and witness.
After the vigil, there was a celebration with music and dancing, a parade and puppetistas, and vendors and food. It was so life-giving. Krystina, Jess, and Madeline somehow ended up holding a banner in the parade. Annie spotted two former GSVs. A couple of us saw friends who had also made the trip from far away and got to catch up. We made new friends. Everyone was so welcoming and energetic. Even after the heavy stuff, we couldn’t help but smile and laugh together. And I guess that’s peace, too! Peace is also a celebration in gratitude. For people, for solidarity, for love.
With that, I think I’ll simply bring this entry to a close. I’m sure I will continue to discover new lessons from our weekend in Georgia. But for now, thank you for reading this and sharing in our experience.
Peace friends,
Lara