Author: khauver

The first time that I felt impassioned to go out into the Worcester community happened before my initial site visit or my first CBL reflection — it happened in the second meeting of my Montserrat course. I was placed in Professor Ryan’s seminar on “Identity, Diversity, and Community”, and I’m forever thankful to her and my classmates for providing such a welcoming and supportive space in which I could so meaningfully deepen my community engagement. Throughout the year, Pr. Ryan problematized focusing on being ‘men and women for others’ above being ‘with others’. When she explained the potential damage in ignoring this second, more difficult component of service relationships during that first week of classes, I felt a newfound call to a healthier form of service. By the time I entered Claremont Academy towards the end of September, I was ready to form the kind of relationships we had been discussing in class.

The lesson that I have learned time and time again from CBL, however, is that it does not matter how prepared I personally feel to be in relationship with others, but instead that it takes time, patience, and vulnerability from me as well as from those at my sites in order to make the connections that I hope to form. This intentionality can’t be forced or rushed, and the most wonderful things that I’ve gained from my CBL experiences have all come after I’ve learned to adjust my expectations accordingly. Being someone with others means leaving behind your  assumptions and entering humbly and compassionately into their spaces and lives as much as they allow you to, and for you to do the same. If someone approaches their service in search of a story to write about, it will keep them from truly being with others; no one will provide you with a life-changing or all-illuminating conversation, but they will share themselves if you are present and listen. 

I’m so thankful that CBL has given me the opportunity to learn beyond the classroom and beyond my own life experience. It has reminded me that we belong to Worcester as much as we belong on the hill, even though our campus can sometimes feel so far removed, and even more importantly, it has reminded me that we belong to each other. 

CBL Interns, Paige Cohen ’21 and Christian Realbuto ’20 both attended the CBL Dialogue Session on 12/3, entitled, “Where do we go from here? Living a life of service and justice.” The session featured Assistant Chaplain, Father Maczkiewicz and CBL Intern and Holy Cross alumna, Clare Orie ’18. Fr. Mac and Clare shared about the way in which they integrate service into their professional lives. On the blog, Paige and Christian reflect on their experience of the event. Paige’s post will also be published in The Spire.

Paige’s Reflection:

On Tuesday, December 3, the Donelan Office of Community-Based Learning hosted a dialogue session entitled “Where Do We Go From Here? Living a Life of Service and Justice.” The session featured guest speakers Fr. Keith Maczkiewicz, S.J. (“Father Mac”), Assistant Chaplain here at the College; and Clare Orie ‘18, Case Manager and POWIR Energy Assistance Program Coordinator at Catholic Charities of Boston. Both Fr. Mac and Clare were invited to speak to students — particularly to students who participate in service opportunities on campus through Community-Based Learning classes and SPUD — about how they personally have integrated service into their professional lives after college graduation.

Fr. Mac spoke first, starting with his one year of college as a musical theater major. He talked about how he enjoyed theater and performance, but felt that he was called to something else. After transferring to Fairfield University, he became actively involved in Campus Ministry and made his first immersion trip — his first plane ride ever, actually — to Haiti. Fr. Mac stressed how this college introduction to service work directed him toward his current life of service as a Jesuit priest, proving both heartbreaking and fulfilling. He shared how he conceptualizes service as “being present to people,” dropping whatever he is doing to be with another person, whether that be on a trip internationally, visiting a women’s prison, hearing confessions, or just having a conversation with a student. To Fr. Mac, service is at the very essence of his priestly vocation.

Clare spoke next, beginning with her time at Holy Cross. While on campus, she was an intern in the Donelan Office of Community-Based Learning, working with refugee populations at Ascentria Care Alliance, and she majored in French and International Studies. During her junior year at Holy Cross, she studied abroad in France and participated in the Washington Semester program, interning at the State Department. Clare referred to many of her experiences as “the most wonderful experience of my life,” emphasizing how each of her experiences built on one another to impassion her for international service work, but also challenged her, causing her to wrestle with questions about her work and her relationship to other people in service, about how her service could even possibly be damaging, rather than positive.

Moving on from her time at Holy Cross, Clare also shared about her year serving with the Peace Corps in Rwanda. She was transparent about the discomfort of her experience: how it was wonderful to enter the Rwandan community and make friends there, but also how she felt ambivalent towards the work she was doing. Was the Peace Corps really putting Rwandan people on a level playing field or viewing them as subservient? Did the Rwandan people even want the Peace Corps there, invading their community? Was she really called to this type of work, so far away from friends and family at home? Ultimately, Clare chose to withdraw from the Peace Corps early and now works as a case manager at Catholic Charities. To close her opening talk, Clare kept stressing that she “doesn’t have it all together,” and is continuing to discern where service fits in her life, but that she is grateful for the service experiences she has had so far both at Holy Cross and afterwards.

After the opening talks, the audience was encouraged to ask questions of Clare and Fr. Mac. Students and faculty present asked thoughtful questions about concepts of service, about what it means to be in “reciprocal relationship” with someone, about the dangers of participating in service work as an ego boost or social media performance. After the talk, current CBL intern Dora Calva ‘22 offered her thoughts about the talk: “It encouraged us to step back and reflect on what we’re doing and how that actually connects to the ‘for and with others’ statement we hear so much about.”

The Donelan Office thanks Clare and Fr. Mac for giving of their time to be at this session and thanks the students who attended for provoking thoughtful discussion. More CBL Dialogue Sessions will be offered in the spring semester.

Christian’s Reflection:

Last week, I attended a talk given by Assistant Chaplain, Fr. Keith Maczkiewicz, S.J. and Clare Orie ’18, which was sponsored by the Donelan Office of Community-Based Learning, titled: “Where Do We Go From Here: Living A Life of Service.” As a senior thinking about what’s next after graduation, I really appreciated listening to a discussion that touched on how service can remain in our professional lives post-graduation. Both Father Maczkiewicz and Clare highlighted the important role that serving abroad has played in forming their post-graduate experiences. In this fashion, Father Maczkiewicz noted that everything we do should work to enrich our lives in some way or another. As he noted, each relationship and job — in essence, where we choose to give our time — should be through measures that help us grow, and challenge us to become better versions of ourselves.

Additionally, the discussion after the talk touched upon social media’s interaction with service. I thought this raised an important point, especially today. Clearly, social media — and the news media as a whole — play a very large role in how we form opinions, engage with the world around us, and dispel or enhance our biases. As was shared during the talk, the same is true for service, and how we discuss service online. This got me thinking of a famous phrase we often talk about in CBL, from Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: “the danger of a single story,” which I think certainly resonates here. Specifically, I think this relates to the story we wish to tell about the communities we serve in, and are served by. How can we ensure we tell a story that’s authentic to our experience in X community, informed by community leaders, and doesn’t just skim over the surface of our time there?

Ultimately, I think that social media, when used appropriately, can serve as an important medium to showcase the impact service has on our relationships with one another, and how we engage with the world around us. This can certainty apply here, on this campus.

Fortunately, Holy Cross students are well-prepared to engage with service. I believe that the service we learn about at Holy Cross, and especially in the Donelan Office, is unique in its intentionality — that is, Holy Cross does not just send students off to participate in service programs without any form of training. Everyone who participates in service programs at Holy Cross is challenged to think about a relationship-guided mindset of service. Holy Cross students strive to seek relationship, reciprocity and mutuality in service. That’s a lesson from Mount St. James that I hope to carry with me for years to come.

It had been a while since I had formally participated in CBL, so arriving at Training Resources of America (TRA) for my first day a few weeks ago was a little nerve-wracking. I did not quite know what to expect walking up the stairs to TRA on my first day. However, it was in the first few minutes of meeting the ESOL teacher, Amy, and learning about what drew her to become a teacher at TRA, that I was reminded why I always enjoy time spent at CBL sites. I find joy in the conversation and connection that takes place each time I enter the doors of TRA. It was also within this reminder that I realized even though it had been a while since I drove in a Holy Cross van to my weekly site, it had not been a while since I was able to learn from and form connections with others through conversation and the sharing of stories.

Reflecting upon my year away, this value of conversation and connection certainly comes to mind when I think about my time spent in Buenos Aires, Argentina. One of the highlights of my time in Buenos Aires was simply sitting with Stella, my host mother, and my host sisters for hours at the dinner table. We discussed everything from Argentine politics and economics to Target. It was within this simple conversation and story sharing that I gained perspective and insight on what it meant to be Stella, a seventy six year old “porteña”, whose life has been incredibly different than my own. This understanding is something that would not have occurred without these conversations. These conversations helped me to set aside any expectations I had and learn an incredible amount from her about what it means to live in Argentina. Looking back upon this, it appears that CBL and its values were not too far away from us as we sat in that kitchen, a few thousand miles away from Holy Cross.

The simple act of conversation can go a long way. As CBL promotes conversation and storytelling, it allows people to learn from each other and form relationships based on mutual understanding. If I could give one piece of advice to new CBL students, it would be to set aside all expectations before arriving at your site and be willing to learn from those around you. Simply asking someone about their weekend can help start a conversation and ultimately form a relationship. It is truly through the seemingly small conversations that the greatest learning and connection can occur. This focus on connection and conversation has allowed me endless opportunities to learn and engage with others and I am so excited to continue this learning with CBL this year.

Growing up in an immigrant household, I was not aware of my parents’ citizenship status until I was nine. When my parents had a conversation with me about their citizenship status, I realized that living in a bubble would hinder me from seeing social issues. Throughout this difficult moment for my undocumented parents, my family found happiness in soccer and that became an integral part of our life.

Living with my non-English speaking parents, I had to mature quickly as my parents needed my bilingual assistance with any filing paperwork and tax documentation. Through this learning experience, I became more fluent in speaking English and Spanish. Being able to speak two languages has become a valuable life skill to have in CBL as I volunteer with Ascentria’s Unaccompanied Refugees Minors Program (URMP). Through this program, I tutor refugee minors coming from Central American countries who need additional assistance in their schoolwork. By coming to the United States, these teenagers have felt a sense of parental loss as their childhood has been marked by traumatizing events, and they are currently staying in a foster family. They have shared their stories with me and have taught me valuable lessons.

As a CBL intern in the Donelan Office, I have been more involved in the city of Worcester as well as the close-knit community at Holy Cross such as recently attending the Gathering In Solidarity with Immigrants Event. Stories from two Holy Cross students showed and proved that undocumented people are a great contribution to society. Their vulnerability to open up to the Holy Cross community made this a heart-felt moment as memories from my personal experiences started to come back.

My perspective on DACA recipients is that they do not have to prove or justify to the American population to stay in this country. They do not have to be the best in their class nor aiming to be one of the well-known careers. Each DACA student is here to bring their own hard-working resilience. A poem called “Complaint of El Rio Grande” by Richard Blanco states, “You split me in two–half of me us, the rest them. But I wasn’t meant to drown children, hear mothers’ cries, never meant to be your geography: a line, a border, a murderer.” Rio Grande, whose job is to connect and not split America and Mexico, is hurt as many emotional stories such as death or survival happen at the border. Most DACA recipients either came because their parents brought them at a younger age or are escaping from violence in their country.

Being in a predominantly white institution, it was at the College where I learned to expand my horizons through friendships and networks. By living in the current political climate as a first-generation college student and raised by immigrants, I have been able to open my horizon to understand the social problems that coexist in our society.

This year, I have the amazing opportunity of serving at Ascentria Care Alliance as a Legal Intern. Being in this role has allowed me to feel that I am making a direct impact on the community that I am serving. With our current administration, the pathway for asylum, residency, and citizenship has been harder for individuals to attain. Being an intern at Ascentria has been challenging both professionally and emotionally, but it has allowed me to further understand the legal process of what an individual goes through when seeking a path to receive legal stay in the United States.

One of the challenges that I’ve faced while working at Ascentria is practicing self-care after a long day at the non-profit. Reading the testimonies that individuals who are seeking asylum share are hard to read or listen to, but it also gives me strength. Whenever I receive a new case to work with, I am very hopeful that everything will work out well for the individual seeking a pathway to remain in the United States.

Being part of the CBL Intern program for a second year has prepared me for the service that I now do in the organization. One of the skills that I’ve practiced and developed is the importance of creating connections and relationships with those around you. When I am at the organization I engage in conversations with those who I am working for, so I can also learn about their passions that have led them to this path of serving others who seek opportunities in the United States. When I am interpreting for a client, I create a conversation with them to ensure that everything will be okay and that this is a safe space for them. Language is a privilege in and of itself, and being at Ascentria has made me aware of that.

Growing up, my parents decided to teach me Spanish before I learned English. My dad would share with me the importance of learning both English and Spanish to create a bridge of the two identities I carry as a Mexican-American. Now, that is not to say that language is the only way of creating relationships, but I do think it gives an additional outlet that allows one to communicate with others who do not speak English. Since I was a child, I would interpret for my parents or translate documents for them. Originally, I only used this skill to serve my parents and to personally practice my bilingual capabilities. But now, I am thankful for having this skill because I can apply it in spaces where it is needed, like in Ascentria.

Many of the clients that I work with personally are younger than me. Knowing that I can speak to them and create a bridge among those who are not Spanish speakers, warms my heart because a simple life skill that my parents instilled in me, including the values that I’ve learned through the CBL program, has prepared me for this exact moment. Serving at Ascentria has been an amazing journey that I will be continuing into next semester.

Also, if you want to learn more about immigration and difficulties that individuals around the globe who come to the United States face, I recommend the documentary series titled “Living Undocumented” on Netflix. One of the testimonies that were included in the documentary still impacts me to this day.

“I want you to imagine waking up one morning, and your father is just gone. I want you to imagine going home and trying to tell everybody that everything will be okay when you aren’t even sure of that. And imagine every night trying to sleep, only to find yourself lying awake for hours because you can’t sleep. That worry will end you. And it will try to break you. You can watch a documentary and say ‘this is too bad’ but at the end of the day its just something that you are watching on tv and you can turn it off and you can go about your life.”

If how undocumented individuals are being treated is bothering you, please take the following actions:

1. Inform yourself of what is going on with immigration policies/ the treatment of undocumented individuals through different sources .

2. Take action by writing letters to your representatives about your worries.

The past few weeks in CBL with WPS Transition program have been off to an incredible start. We have had a cooking class, a garden club presentation, and more, and we are only halfway through the semester. I would like to take a moment not just to reflect on my experience with some wonderful students on-site but also some really thoughtful and reflective students off-site. I spent my Friday before October break with my fellow CBL Interns leading some Spanish 301 discussion sessions. These classes demonstrated some of the most compelling and reflective discussions I have ever been a part of. We spoke in Spanish and in English making connections between lessons learned at CBL and in the classroom. Even more profound, is that my groups easily passed through questions about basic daily-life at their sites and dove deeply into the difficult questions of asset-based and deficit-based lenses in a volunteer setting.

Leaving these sessions was like leaving a meditation class–through a tough week filled with the typical worldly negative news, I was the one who needed to hear the sincere and positive comments made by my fellow classmates. In CBL, we often get backlash. Students feel that this should not be a requirement and feel forced by their professors to volunteer. In moments like this, when the student can surpass this feeling of requirement they open up to such interesting discussions and possibilities within their CBL sites. I am so grateful to Kevin, Beth, Wendy and so many more of the new students at the WPS Transition Spanish program on Wednesday mornings. They come into CBL with a smile on their face ready to interact even if their Spanish, like my own, has good and bad days. They are dedicated on-site and also in their discussion in the classroom, which I was so grateful to be a part of last Friday.

That “aha” moment that we as interns seek to inspire in CBL students is often difficult to conjure. Sometimes it never comes and other times it has been there the whole time. This week, I am grateful for every CBL student, even the ones who don’t always want to be there but still go. Thanks to the Donelan Office and Michelle and Isabelle, I was able to get a sneak peek into the minds of so many wonderful human beings.

This semester, I’m taking an introductory creative writing course. Each week, we are asked to write short pieces of nonfiction, responding to prompts designed to get our ideas flowing, reflecting on our past experiences. Last week’s prompt was to write a letter to a stranger: someone we had met only briefly, but who had some effect on our lives. After thinking for a while, I decided to write to one of the hospice residents I visited in my freshman year, through my CBL Montserrat course: Death and Society.  It’s a raw, fairly unedited piece of writing, but I wanted to share it here as I continue to grapple with how to put my CBL experience into words.

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To the woman who died six hours after my visit

I don’t remember your name. Actually, maybe I never knew it. They’d rather us just know initials, because of HIPAA regulations. You were my only “emergency” patient. I’d just been making my normal weekly visit with your neighbor down the hall — we’ll call her Olga (HIPAA again). Olga was my first hospice patient. She spoke only Russian, but we’d managed to build up some level of rapport, using a mix of google translate and Tchaikovsky music. Despite her advanced dementia, Olga seemed to know who I was each week and started calling me “my girl” every time I came to see her. It made me feel good to be recognized.

But this week, Harriett the volunteer coordinator, had asked me to visit you, too. You weren’t doing well. For a hospice patient, this was an especially serious description. I walked down the hall toward your room, wincing at the huddle of patients in wheelchairs around the elevators, longing to see a visitor. Like every other room in this nursing facility, yours looked more like a hospital than a residence: powered bed, hand-rails on the wall, pastel wallpaper, faint smell of urine masked by lemon disinfectant. A crucifix — definitely yours in this Jewish facility — hung on the wall. You were sitting in your wheelchair, painfully thin and hunched. Your mouth constantly moved as you muttered under your breath. Your eyes roved, seeming to focus on me for a second, but then looking away. Did you even know I was there?

I sat down in the metal folding chair next to you and tried to think back to my seminar class. It seemed incredible to me that what I was doing right now was part of a syllabus: hospice volunteering, 15%. We were studying death and dying, what it meant to die a “good death,” but here I was confronting this question in a decidedly non-academic setting. What was I to do? There was no professor, no trainer here to guide me. All I had to go on was your patient file that said you were a devout Catholic.

I took your hand, remembering from dementia training that touch could be powerful when words weren’t an option. Your muscles were tense, your hand crumpled up but began to relax as I rubbed back and forth with my thumb. I hope I was being gentle enough. I took out the plastic rosary the facility chaplain had given me on my first day, and placed the beads between my hands and yours. You looked at me and clutched the beads. I said the Rosary prayers, praying for you as I said the words. The whole time I felt unsure: should I stop, did you even know what was happening? At the end, you made the Sign of the Cross on your own. I guess you did know.

A week later, I visited again. We prayed the rosary again. I sang to you a little. You continued to mutter under your breath — the only word I could make out was “wonderful.” But you did not make the Sign of the Cross this time. A few hours after my visit, I received a phone call that you had passed away, and I cried a little back on my college campus. I hope someone was there with you when you died. I hope your death was easy. I hope my awkward, college freshman presence was somehow pleasant and not disturbing. I don’t remember your name, but I will never forget the way we met.

Last March, CBL Intern, Kara shared on the J.D. Power Center Blog five things she’s learned from experiential learning. As CBL students get started with CBL, we would encourage you to keep Kara’s learning in mind! Stop by the Donelan Office to learn from other CBL Interns about what they’ve learned as well. CBL Interns hold weekly office hours (the schedule is posted on the Donelan Office door and on our website).

Between three community-based learning (CBL) sites and two internships, I’ve had my fair share of experiential learning opportunities during my time at Holy Cross. It’s ironic because when I started college, it wasn’t even on my radar. Sure, I had chosen a Montserrat course with a CBL component, but that was more about wanting to pursue a service opportunity, not an interest in learning outside of the classroom. Considering I’m writing this blog post, it’s safe to say that I’ve come a long way. That’s why I thought I would share some nuggets of wisdom I’ve picked up along the way. Below, find the five things I’ve learned from experiential learning.

You’ll Never Feel Fully Prepared, Go for It Anyway

This is one factor that scares students (and even professors). Because classroom environments can be planned and structured, they are a lot more predictable than an experiential learning environment. As a result, you probably won’t feel totally ready before your first day, or even your first month, at you CBL site or internship position. That’s okay. In fact, these are often the experiences where deep learning occurs because lessons aren’t rigidly planned, so there’s room for discovery.

Be Open to What You Can Receive in CBL, Not Just What You Can Give

If you had told me in the beginning that I’d still be visiting my CBL site, St. Mary’s Healthcare Center, I don’t think I’d believe you. After all, I wanted to dosomething, not just sit and talk with my resident. I doubted that I was even making an impact there. Then, I started to just show up and be present. Almost immediately, the experience changed. I realized that not only was I forming a relationship with my resident, but she was having a profound impact on me. I always left our visits with a new perspective on life and a smile on my face. There is always something to be gained when engaging with those who are different from us, you just have to be open to seeing it.

Not Everything Can be Learned in the Classroom

It’s just true. You can read, study, and analyze a subject all you want, but until you get out and engage with it, you won’t get the full picture. I noticed this particularly through the Education Department’s Student Mental Health seminar I took this fall. In part of the course, we learned about trauma-informed teaching practices, and how to implement them to create a safe, welcoming environment for all students. That said, I didn’t fully grasp the importance of these practices until I witnessed them firsthand through a site visit at Woodland Academy. It took the conceptual and made it real.

Take Advantage of the Holy Cross Network

I know you’ve heard this one before, but I mean it. The New York Semester Program opened my eyes to how not only willing, but genuinely excited Holy Cross alumni are to mentor current students. Almost every week during the program, we attended a lunch or dinner colloquium where we heard from an alum about their career path and their current role. Through one of these colloquia meetings, I met an alumna who has provided me with invaluable advice and even helped me secure a summer internship.

Make Time to Reflect on Your Experiences

During my Montserrat course, we were required to write weekly reflections about our CBL experiences, and while I don’t do it weekly anymore, this is still a practice that I come back to. Experiential learning in itself is great, but sometimes I don’t even realize the lessons I’ve learned, or revelations I’ve had, until I sit down and write about them. By taking time to slow down and unpack what you’ve experienced, you’ll be able to gain new insights that you might’ve missed along the way.

Kara Cuzzone ’19 is a senior Anthropology major. Read more of her work at karacuzzone.com

CBL Intern, Delaney Wells ’20 spent her summer as a Research Fellow at EmbraceKulture. The organization works to develop the capacity of organizations serving children and youth with developmental and/or cognitive disabilities in Africa. Specifically, Delaney researched the Amaanyi Center, a project of EmbraceKulture and the first and only center in Uganda dedicated to empowering youth with special needs to achieve their potential. The following post is Delaney’s final reflection on her experience in Uganda and how it relates to other experiential learning experiences she has had at Holy Cross (Community-Based Learning, the Spring Break Immersion Program, and the Washington Semester Program).

Crazy, crazy to think that my almost 10-week experience in Africa is concluding. I contemplated for a bit which word to use in place of “experience” in my last sentence, but “visit” did not feel just right. I am very aware that I am a visitor here, and there is so much to learn about where I am. Yet, Lunyo Village has truly begun to feel like home to me. From early morning singing during Assembly, walks to church, the neighborhood goats and chickens that roam about, it is hard to believe that very soon this will not be my reality.

The last few weeks have been very special… beginning to realize my time was winding down, I was able to reallllly think about and practice living in the moment. There have been many situations that have served as reminders of the importance of presence. The very, very finicky wifi and electricity which initially was very frustrating quickly became opportunities where I could step back and take a deep breath; to learn to live in the moment. I have found that sharing time at L’Arche communities (which I did through the Spring Break Immersion Program and the Washington Program) has really reminded me of intentionality and presence, and the Amaanyi Center (where I have been spending my time this summer through the Summer Research Program) is no different. Within Disability Theology there is a writer who wrote of L’Arche and “time as experienced in L’Arche”. This revolves around the idea that time does not exist in relation to real life, things move at a truly human pace. This allows for core members and assistants alike to appreciate each moment, and feel no pressure to rush (I wrote about this a good deal in my thesis if you have more questions !!). This means that a walk that may take one person 20 minutes may take a core member an hour, and there is no shame or annoyance in that. Rather, there is just an appreciation for living life at the speed we dictate, instead of society and others dictating for us. I can attest that time as experienced in the Amaanyi Center is quite similar. We have a schedule for classes and meals throughout the day, but this is in no way binding. If our students using walkers are not in Literacy right at 9 a.m. on Mondays and Wednesdays, we do not rush them. This applies to all members of the Amaanyi Center if teacher Rosemary needs another moment before class to finish preparing for our lesson.

I think that is where the beauty of L’Arche and the Amaanyi Center lies, in the recognition of the inherent importance of a person. Once you prioritize the person instead of the event you are late for or the deadline you are rushing to complete, you can fully appreciate them as a human being instead of a nuisance or something slowing you down. Yes, this may sound incredibly similar to the practice of patience, but I believe it is much greater than that. I just wrapped up my first flight from Entebbe and I re-read parts of “Tattoos on the Heart” by Father Greg Boyle as I tried everything I possibly could to distract myself from the mix of sadness, appreciation, love, and loss I felt after leaving the most special students behind (I think the woman next to me on the plane thought I was truly a mess). Father Boyle speaks of a parable involving a woman named Carmen, who came in to talk to him at what he felt was the wrong time. He was rushing to a Baptism and didn’t want to be bothered with whatever trouble she had gotten into. After she opened her heart to him, explaining her story, he writes “suddenly, her shame meets mine. For when Carmen walked through that door, I had mistaken her for an interruption”. In such a fast-paced world, everything that is not matching or exceeding our speed slows us down and is annoying to us. What if we spend time slowing down, to walk with someone, like Maureen, who moves more slowly? Or spent time really ensuring we hear what someone who may be hard to verbally understand, like Ketty, is saying? What if we could take the rush out of our lives and just appreciate the company of one another being human in this journey together?

Through CBL and other opportunities at school and outside of campus, many of us have come to understand the power of presence; of sitting, or standing, with someone else and engage.  To truly value humanity you must spend time with the other, this is the importance of mutuality-in-community where a relationship can be introduced where people are transformed and taught how to be human. Transvaluation, a notion held central to Disability Theology and one that KEEPS coming up in my life is discovered in personal encounters with people with profound developmental/intellectual disabilities and initiates a movement towards a radically new system of evaluation. When people meet together and engage in mutually constructive relationships of friendship with people who have profound developmental disabilities, they are changed and transformed. Disability is no longer seen as an inconvenience or devaluing concept, simply just differences among people. Really, it is the practice of engagement with respect for all involved that can allow for genuine humanity to be practiced among one another. This is something that takes practice, but what a beautiful skill to hone. If this could be the reality of our world, a real inclusive society built on genuine respect for one another, a gospel of love that is lived out instead of just a faraway notion that is easily forgotten in the day to day busyness.

Father Boyle’s book title is the perfect description for the lessons I learned through my fourteen most amazing students, the staff, neighbors and all who I encountered during my time in Lunyo Village, they have truly left tattoos on my heart. I hope we can all try to take a moment to remember and recognize the humanity among us all as we move to transition into another busy (in a wonderful way!) year. Through this, we can begin towards the inclusion we ALL, people with and without disabilities, need in order to allow for humanity among us all to be celebrated as it ought to be. Love and care for one another, how can you say no to that?

 

CBL Intern, Jerome Siangco ’19 was selected to compete in the first-ever senior exit talks competition: “Share your Magis.” In this competition, those selected to speak were tasked with sharing something about their Holy Cross experience in three minutes with no notes, no props, and no visuals. Jerome came in second place with his speech, “Filling an Empty Car.” Featured in his speech was how CBL was one of the experiences that he filled his car with while here on the hill. Congratulations to Jerome!

Filling an Empty Car

Saturday. August 29. 2015. Move in day for the Class of 2019 and with it, Mass of the Holy Spirit. Near the end of mass Fr. Boroughs, as he does with every incoming class, makes a fun yet serious joke of families departing with an empty car and one less passenger. First years hug their families, some shed a tear or a dozen, and then walk over to the Orientation Leaders both excitedly and hesitantly, to begin their Holy Cross journeys.

Four years later, I think of this joke, of the empty car, and of how the car is symbolic of everyone’s Holy Cross journey.

As a first-year student, everyone comes into the college essentially empty. Some may have Google searched Holy Cross a trillion times, others may be legacies, while some like myself, may have come to Holy Cross knowing nothing about the school, except that it was in a city I could not pronounce. Emptiness comes in the form of not knowing what to realistically expect from college.

However, the years goes by, and one becomes less empty. One is filled daily with new experiences, new memories, that one carries with them until they drive away four years later. A car filled with yes, clothes, books, and other items, but also the individual themselves filled with the memories they have created on their Holy Cross journey. Driving away, they are no longer a Holy Cross student, but a Holy Cross graduate.

Here are three examples of how I have filled my car these four years:

Athletically, I was able to walk onto the Men’s Rowing Team and create stories of freezing outside in the brisk morning air on Lake Quinsigamond.

Spiritually, I was able to participate in a five-day silent retreat where I learned the power of silence and to be comfortable with my own thoughts.

Academically, I was able to take classes that challenged me, meet professors that I now call mentors, and be involved in Worcester through Community-Based Learning.

I provide these three examples from my own life, not to say everyone at Holy Cross should have had similar experiences, but that through these examples, people begin to think of how they have been filled throughout their Holy Cross journey.

As first-years excitedly and hesitantly walked over to their Orientation Leaders, I as a graduating senior and my fellow piers alongside me, all walk, excitedly and hesitantly towards Graduation.

At Graduation seniors will hug their families as they did on move-in day, but they will also hug their new family, a family that was built over four years. As the Holy Cross mission invites everyone into communion with one another, the mission creates an extended family for every Holy Cross student. It is this family, our Holy Cross family, that we do not say good bye to on Graduation, but thank you.

Thank you for the memories. Thank you for the laughs, the tears, the 3 AM trips to Boulevard Diner, every single interaction that has formed our Holy Cross community into a family.