namaste.

as our adventures in uganda continue, i am grateful for the moments of connection i've had thus far on this trip.  my parents, sisters and i rode on tuesday morning to murchison falls national park for our first safari adventure.  after weaving our way out of kampala traffic, we passed lots of little villages on our way to the park.  at one of the villages, our safari van slowed down to pass through a police checkpoint.  as we sat in the van, a little boy wearing a purple shirt that matched the color of my own met my eyes through the car window.  we both just looked at each other for a few seconds, then both smiled, and right before we pulled away, we both raised our hands to wave at each other at precisely the same moment.  now, i will never know this boy's name, but at that moment, i sensed so fully that we are connected, each of us.  it was a moment of namaste, that which is divine in me seeing, acknowledging, greeting the divine in you.  these moments of connection have come so frequently for me at joseph's house, as i sit with someone who is dying, often in silence, sometime without knowing any more than a name.  but when i'm able to really see the other, whether at joseph's house or in the middle of uganda, i realize that we truly are all connected by the same spirit, the same life, and that our destiny, our common life, is intertwined.  

and not just are we as humans connected, but all life is really intertwined.  while riding with my head poking out of the safari van, i stared graceful giraffes in the eye; a family of warthogs and my family beheld each other in the bush; i witnessed two brother lions, one with only three legs, nuzzle each other before the stronger brother went off to hunt to provide for himself and his bro; i watched a mother chimpanzee clean and feed her baby.  how beautiful to witness the love and connection and life in creation, the same love and care and family that we cherish.  

brother lions taking care of each other.

family photo with the giraffes!

a rainbow across the park.

as we left the game park on our first game drive tuesday evening, we saw a rainbow spreading over the whole valley.  with giraffes and cape buffalo in the background, warthogs running past and birds singing, it was such a spectacular sight.  i am grateful for the way this place is constantly reminding me of my, of our connectedness.  may i and we continue to slow down and really notice and honor one another, to greet each other.  namaste.

eating grasshoppers.

after about twenty hours of traveling on three different continents, we arrived in entebbe late on friday night (uganda time).  we were pretty exhausted, but it was lovely to be met by my aunt and cousin, as well as by the smell of burning charcoal that makes me think, "mmmm africa."  my family lives in a beautiful house here, with lovely flowers all around.  we spent yesterday throwing a bug birthday party for my seven year old cousin and twenty of his closest friends, where they played bug games, got bug favors, and yes, even ate some grasshoppers.  my little four year old cousin stood by the bowl, popping grasshoppers in her mouth like candy... i definitely had my fair share as well.  seasoned and fried, they were quite delicious if you could forget that they were grasshoppers going in your mouth.  it was pretty fantastic.  today, we went to my aunt and uncle's church, mostly a community of ex-pats, where my family was asked to give the message... which meant that i got to preach!  it was fun to share with this group of people (i even threw a little tattoos on the heart in there!).  after lunch, my uncle took us on a drive around kampala, where we saw a beautiful old anglican church, visited some of the government buildings, saw the biggest mess of taxis i've ever seen.  here are some of the pics from that trip:  

a shot from the cemetery at the anglican church on one of the many hilltops in kampala. 

the church itself - finally, a sunny day!

part of kampala from up on the hill.

it is interesting being here as a guest in the ex-pat community; it seems like my family has done wonderfully with making relationships with ugandans as well as with americans, but it also reminds me of how easy it is for us as people to keep to those who look like us, who act like us.  and how difficult it can be to cross those bridges, how uncomfortable, how much more effort, how much more vulnerable we are when we try.  i'm also reminded, in being here and in several conversations with my aunt and uncle, how much bad development work happens in the world, especially in the name of faith.  without humility, without a long-term commitment to building relationships and sustainability, without cultural sensitivity, it is easy for us do-gooders to do harm more than good.  i am hopeful that my time here will continue to deepen my understanding of how we can work in solidarity, in "kinship" as gregory boyle calls it, with those who are poor, empowering and being empowered ourselves, being open, being changed.

back to Africa!

well, after exactly five years, i am fortunate enough to be returning to africa this week!  so much has happened and changed in me in the five years since i spent a transformative summer in zambia with the jubilee centre.  looking back, i feel incredibly grateful.  that time in zambia began me on the journey towards community, towards a life devoted to empowering and solidarity with the poor, towards examining and understanding more fully my own privilege as a white, middle-class person, towards a more vast, inclusive view of faith and of the world where there is enough of Love for all.  that journey has brought me to DC, to joseph's house, to grad school for social work, to life in simplicity and in community... and who knows where else it will take me!  but for now, this journey returns me to the motherland.  :-)

i'd like to clarify my journey, the reasons i'm going and what i'll be doing.  my family (parents and two sisters) are going to be traveling to uganda on thursday to spend several weeks with my aunt, uncle, and three little cousins in their home in kampala.  my uncle has worked in kampala for the last two years, and we will be staying with their family.  our plan is to take some safaris, go chimp trekking, hang out with my aunt, uncle, and cousins, and connect with some of the NGOs and individuals with which my aunt's family has connected in their time there.  in the second week of june, the rest of my immediate family will be leaving uganda (and returning to all over the world :-), and i will have the opportunity to stay with my aunt and uncle through june 24th.  i am looking forward to connecting with the children's prison where my aunt volunteers, with an organization that works with survivors of sex trafficking, perhaps with l'arche in kampala or a quick trip to kenya... there are lots of possibilities!

so, as i begin this journey, i hope to hold that same spirit of openness to really seeing the people i meet and learning from them as teachers.  i hope to learn whatever africa has to teach me this time, and to continue to live into the questions.  i hope to write whenever i can and share my thoughts and experiences, as well as some pictures, with you.  thank you all for journeying with me in this new adventure!

what we see.

the other day, i was helping a client at Polaris with her homework for a business class. she had a writing prompt that included a statistic that the u.s. high school drop out rate is 30%. i commented in surprise, "wow, do you think that's the right statistic?" she responded with equal surprise, "no, that can't be right." i felt myself nodding in agreement, until she continued, "it's gotta be much higher than that. that's what i saw, at least." in that moment, my shock grew even more. i had been thinking that there couldn't possibly be a 30% drop out rate in the u.s., that i can't remember that many people leaving my high school. and then i realized: no matter how many diversity classes i take, anti-racism trainings i attend, books i read about race, class, and other injustices, my experience, which has shaped much of how i view the world, is one of privilege. of course the AP, over-involved, honor roll kids weren't the ones dropping out of high school. i truly have experienced life in a different world than many others in this country. to me, this is why the constant work of self-reflection is crucial. yes, i will always carry the experiences that have shaped me and given me so many opportunities, for which i am grateful - i wouldn't be where and who i am now without them. but as much as i desire to build solidarity with those experiencing injustice, with those of different races, cultures, classes, i must constantly reflect on the ways in which my privilege is constantly informing my interactions, my perspectives, the way i see the world.

last night, i was reminded again of the my limited view of the world. a friend gave me tickets to the woolly mammoth theatre, which was showing a play called "the agony and ecstasy of steve jobs." this incredible one-man show explored the origins of the apple technology company, our culture's obsession with always getting the next best thing in technology. most interestingly, though, the actor had traveled to china to the city of shenzhen where most of the world's technology is manufactured and interviewed workers, clandestinely slipped into the factories, met with secret union members, all in an attempt to see where all our stuff comes from. he met 13 year old girls who worked 14 hour days in factories of 450,000 workers, he met a man who had his hand crushed from the assembly line for the ipad and was not given medical attention, he heard stories and saw people. and this massive economic zone where so many are oppressed is not the result of a communist government, but is the result of multinational corporations, consumerism, capitalism. the point that was most compelling was that we so rarely actually think about where our things come from. we often just assume they are made by robots, by machines. we forget that people, many people, are being paid next to nothing in horrendous conditions to make the things we use every day, the things we depend on. the computer on which i type this blog, the cell phone that i use each day, the clothes i wear are not just things without a past, but they have been assembled by hands of people who i have never seen. i am, we are stuck in a way of living that is covered with the sweat and blood of people, men and women, from around the world. i can't stop using my phone, but i can use the knowledge i have and speak out while i continue to find ways to pursue justice, not just for those who i easily see, but for everyone.

manifesta to young women and girls.

on today, valentine's day, i acknowledge that i am blessed by so much genuine, deep love in my life from my family and friends. thank you! but i also realize that there are many in the world, women in particular, who are abused, who are raped, who are dominated, in the name of "love." i have been faced with the horrible atrocities that women face at the hands of men in my clients at polaris, and the thing i find myself repeating is, "it's not ok that happened to you. you are worth more and deserve more. that is not ok." so, in the spirit of resisting the exploitation of women and standing up for true, mutually respectful, caring, sacrificial love, i want to share a poem from eve ensler's "i am an emotional creature." eve started the v-day movement, standing for victory, valentine, and vagina, to be a global movement to stop violence against women and girls, and she is a woman and activist who i truly admire. i hope you enjoy this poem and take a moment to affirm the women in your life (or yourself as a woman!) for being beautiful and deserving of respect, just the way they are.

“Manifesta to Young Women and Girls”
An excerpt from I Am an Emotional Creature by Eve Ensler
(all added emphasis is mine)

HERE’S WHAT YOU WILL BE TOLD:

Find a man
Seek protection
The world is scary
Don’t go out
You are weak
Don’t care so much
They’re only animals
Don’t be so intense
Don’t cry so much
You can’t trust anyone
Don’t talk to strangers
People will take advantage of you
Close your legs
Girls aren’t good with:
Numbers
Facts
Making difficult decisions
Lifting things
Putting things together
International news
Flying planes
Being in charge.
If he rapes you, surrender,
you will get killed trying to defend yourself
Don’t travel alone
You are nothing without a man
Don’t make the first move,
wait for him to notice you
Don’t be too loud
Follow the crowd
Obey the laws
Don’t know too much
Tone it down
Find someone rich
It’s how you look that matters,
not what you think.

HERE’S WHAT I’M TELLING YOU:

Everyone’s making everything up
There is no one in charge except for those
who pretend to be
No one is coming
No one is going to
Rescue you
Mind-read your needs
Know your body better than you

Always fight back
Ask for it
Say you want it
Cherish your solitude
Take trains by yourself to places
you’ve never been
Sleep out alone under the stars
Learn how to drive a stick shift
Go so far away that you stop being afraid of
not coming back
Say no when you don’t want to do something
Say yes if your instincts are strong
even if everyone around you disagrees
Decide whether you want to be liked or admired
Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out
what you’re doing here
Believe in kissing
Fight for tenderness
Care as much as you do
Cry as much as you want
Insist the world be theater
and love the drama
Take your time
Move as fast as you do
as long as it’s your speed.
Ask yourself these questions:
Why am I whispering when I have something to say?
Why am I adding a question mark at the end
of all my sentences?
Why am I apologizing every time I express my needs?
Why am I hunching over?
Starving myself when I love food?
Pretending it doesn’t mean that much to me?
Hurting myself when I mean to scream?
Why am I waiting
Whining
Pining
Fitting in?
You know the truth:
Sometimes it does hurt that much
Horses can feel love
Your mother wanted more than that
It’s easier to be mean than smart
But that isn’t who you are.

we all want to be loved.

i realize that i haven't written yet about my work at polaris project. this is partially because of the confidential nature of the work, but also because of the emotional intensity of being with victims of human trafficking. as i've been reflecting on my experience at joseph's house compared to this, i've seen both similarities and differences. in both places, there is incredible respect, care, and compassion for those who are vulnerable. there is a commitment to empowerment. there are chances to both cry and laugh together, moments that are heartbreaking and full of grief, and moments that are full of joy. at polaris, one of my biggest joys has been to see the way that the women support and encourage one another, share their stories, and no longer feel alone. their hugs, kisses on the cheek, words of encouragement flying around in tons of different languages, make our drop-in center feel full of love. i am so, so grateful for the chance to work with these extraordinary women, and amidst the heartbreak of their stories, i would never give up my chance to be with them.

but i think one of the hardest differences for me has been in seeing those who are causing this violence. at joseph's house, we talk about how racism, classism, poverty, incarceration (that is unjust based on race and class), and other systemic and institutional injustices lead to lack of access to health care, to drug use, and ultimately, to someone dying of AIDS or cancer in our house who had no where else to go. i can rail against the government, or the "system," but my enemy feels fairly abstract and inaccessible. the story is different, however, at polaris. i have seen a woman's arm covered in bruises from her pimp's fist. i have heard the cries of a woman who has been utterly abused and then abandoned by a man who pretended to love her and brought her to this country that is so far from home to sell her body. i have witnessed the agony of a woman not being able to go back to her home country for her family member's funeral because of the power that her trafficker still has there. and still, i can and do protest the sexism and xenophobia that makes these women (and men) who are trafficked so vulnerable. but, there is also a person who's fist has left marks in her skin, whose abuse has left wounds in her heart. often a man, sometimes a woman, who is clearly a vessel of abuse and exploitation, whether for labor or sex. and when faced with that individual through my clients' stories, or to read about a man like shelby lewis in the news, i feel myself much more angry, much more sick at heart about the state of humanity. why do we exploit? why do we oppress? why do we abuse? how can we do this to one another? i do believe, at the heart of it, we all do want to be loved, to feel like we are of value, to feel that we are safe. this desire is what leads many of the women we work with into sex trafficking in the first place - the promise of love, of safety, of care, by a pimp who then turns their life into a living hell. but i believe that many of these abusers, along with sometimes mental illness, are confusing this desire for love with a desire for lust, for power, for sex, for money. the money, power, control will never satisfy that inner desire to be loved and to feel safe in the world; i believe only a trust in Someone greater than ourselves can do that.

so i guess this is just a reflection and a call for each of us to reflect on what it is that makes us feel loved and safe in the world. and if our sense of love and safety comes from the abuse of others in any way, from putting down others with our words, to consumerism when our underpriced products contain the sweat of children in third world countries or are sold by companies that exploit their employees by refusing them benefits, then we need to stop and think. and then we need to act for transformation of ourselves and our world, for a love that is not twisted into power or oppression, but based on care and service and a chance for each human being to live into his or her full potential. love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. may it be so.

tattoo.

today, after about 4 years of talking about, thinking about, drawing it, i finally headed over to d.c. ink with some of my dear friends and got my long-awaited tattoo! i'm pretty psyched about it on many levels, but i thought it would be fun to write about its significance, since i'm all about symbolism.

the dove design was drawn by my dear friend jolynn, so the image holds a lot of significance for me because of that. i chose a dove for several layers of meaning. first, my name, kathryn, comes from the greek word, katharon (it looks way cooler in greek!), which means pure one. so in this way, a dove is a symbol of my name, claiming proudly who i am in my uniqueness. the dove also stands for peace, peace which i desire to strive after in following the example of Jesus and the principles of non-violence for myself, peace which i pray for the world to find. furthermore, the dove also stands for Spirit and creativity, aspects of both the Divine and of myself that i want to spend my life exploring and cultivating. the dove is in flight because of the image of freedom and movement, freedom to live fully and celebrate the gift of life, freedom to be who i and who we are called to be. the flight of the dove also makes me think of joseph's house, of singing "i'll fly away" in the garden while sprinkling ashes, of all those who have flown away to freedom and have touched my soul so deeply.

lastly, the word beloved holds special meaning to me. the reality that i am loved, cherished, valued as my identity, for my being, not for anything i do but for who i am, by a loving God, is key to my view of the world. i have articulated my call in the past as to affirming belovedness, for myself and for others, to celebrate and value each person and to confront systems of injustice and oppression that detract from that belovedness.

so there it is, in case you were curious... :-)