The Rescue is still going strong.

St. Patricks Cathedral.

This past weekend I went to New York. On our first day in Manhattan we spotted the most magnificently beautiful Cathedral I have ever seen.
As I entered the doors my breath was taken away. It was the most spectacular thing I have ever seen in my life. It was too beautiful for words. As we walked down the isle I had to fight back tears. The overall smell, silence, and feeling was indescribable.

beautiful.

Riots.

1967

2009

Pluribus Unum=Out of Many, One.

Pluribus Unum is comprised of one million organizations throughout the world that are dedicated to peace, environmental issues, social justices, and the preservation of diverse and indigenous cultures.

It's happening.

The tornado,that has been consuming my thoughts, has finally ceased and left me standing with a bare frame. The clouds have rolled onward, the noises have become silenced, and the clutter has been washed away. I am feeling open and free. There are so many possibilities that lie ahead of me.

I have officially submitted my application to Food for the Hungry's study abroad in Thailand. I have had meetings with my adviser, study abroad adviser, transcript office, office of transfer evaluation, pastor, and teacher. I have completed the practicum essay, answered all of the questions, and paid the $50. I have done all of this within 3 days.

I am anticipating each new day and what it brings. I am loving my life.

Clutter is Taking Over My Cranium

In the past 24 hours I have been in a whirlwind of phone calls, meetings, classes, and work.

At roughly 10:50, yesterday, I found out that if I do my study abroad in Thailand this coming fall I can graduate next spring...a whole year early. An enormous smile took over my face as my counselor confirmed the news. I was excited, ecstatic, screaming woooo hoooo inside!
Then...I walked out the glass doors into the cold, gloomy, noisy city. Whoa. I'm graduating a year from now. I have looked forward to this day.....probably since before I even entered college....probably since I was still crawling around my house in diapers. Now, it's crawling its way closer to me and I'm slightly freaking out..I mean there's the exciting aspect of being able to go anywhere I want. I could pick up everything and move to some deserted island or in the mountains with villagers or some place where I know no one or someplace where I know everyone or some place warm!
Yes, this is an exciting new phase in my life, but whoa...in one year I'm going to be looking for a job, finding a new apartment to live in, becoming completely financially independent from my parents. No more student discounts or homework or day dreaming about the day that I can get out of school, because I'll already be out.
It's a cocktail of emotions and my mind is trying to drink them all down, so that I may find comfort and peace within this next year.

Countdown.

The Rescue.

On April 25th, the international community will unite to deliver the innocent from Kony's reign and ensure he is brought to justice. Thousands of participants will gather in 100 cities across the world to abduct themselves and raise the banner of the child soldiers taken by Joseph Kony.

Those abducted will leave their homes and walk to an event location while carrying their supplies on their backs. At the site, they will then wait to be "rescued" - this requires a certain amount of media coverage as well as the attendance of pre-determined cultural and political leaders. Depending on the size, scope and fervor of the specific event locale, those leaders invited to The Rescue may be a Congressional Representative, State Official, local mayor or local business/media figure.

At the event, participants will write letters, create art/photo projects and seek out media attention in an effort to petition the US, European, Canadian, Mexican and Australian government to develop a strategy and support existing efforts to rescue Kony's child soldiers.

NOLA

I returned from another trip to New Orleans early on Sunday morning. As I stepped off the bus I felt something new that I had not felt in the past two trips...accomplishment. I didn't feel the aches and pains of sadness nor the regret of being in Chicago (well, except for the weather). I felt that I came back with more of myself this time.
The week was turned upside down by the Norov virus and many other events, but I found that all the craziness just made me work harder. Over 4 days I helped build planters, planted trees and flowers, painted a bathroom, built toys, and built a gazebo. I went there to start a job and I came back with it finished. I guess I feel a sense of closure. I am not sure when the next time I will be back in NOLA, but I know that this journey I shared with the city is continuing on to other places.
I will always love the city, the people, and the culture. They have transformed my life and I hope that I have transformed something in return.

This poem was written from my friend Nate, who I met on the trip this year. He has a way with words and describes my experiences with New Orleans perfectly.

Citizen

know that the streets are you
the weeds and the dogwood
is where we come from
water and soot
to cradle you, wrap you
up in some construction

let’s make a monument tonight
let’s take handfuls of what organs we have left
and offer them up to the sky
muddied up and water logged
like the tears I wish I’d cried

you can’t translate the language
of flooded houses
because their lungs are full
gap-mouthed, water-tongued
rain buckets

this’ll help you find the ghosts
in the back of your throat
scratching around trying to cough
themselves out in your blood

“this’s the tree where they
used to lynch us” he says

these streets are you

“this’s the corner where
Jazz was born”

“and these are the water marks”

they’re dirty worn car crash baskets
and they are you.
they are family. with their lives
cupped in knap sacks and they are you

we are all Jazz and we are all blue
your mother is actually made of brass
all she needs is a kiss

we were born from river ripples
to overcome this
with mallet melted to hand
like bone to socket

washed up with
the boat moss,
culture founded from loss
sticks to your ribs
demanding not to be forgotten

it is not a limb, but a heart
therefore it cannot be amputated
or otherwise parted with

New Orleans is no bullshit
she’ll suck you in and keep
you for generations

feel your roots sink
through the pavement
wrap yourself in the weather
like a blanket

met a boy with a bat
jumped in, in an attempt
to save him
but I was months late
and his swing was brazen
come meet your skeletons
America

they’re licking their chops in
your back yard,
dangling drinking gourds
like props
catching starlight
in their skinny arms