"A good society cannot be built on miracles" -Jonathan Kozol

I recently read Jonathan Kozol's book Amazing Grace. Kozol writes about the people, specifically children, that he meets in the Bronx in the 1990's. He recounts difficult stories of the pervasive, racist policies that keep families and individuals in the Bronx in a perpetual cycle of poverty and violence. Unfortunately these children's stories could belong to children in many places throughout the world. There are striking similarities between the children of the Bronx and the children I met in the West Bank.

Throughout the time that I lived in Israel/Palestine and since I have returned to the US, I have had misgivings about how to write about the more difficult aspects of life. It is, of course, easy to write the funny stories, the endearing stories and the adventure stories, but it is harder to know how to write about tragedies and injustices. It is tempting to put on a positive spin or to talk about how strong the people are. Indeed, since returning to the USA I have often found myself talking about how difficult life is in Palestine and then feeling the need to talk about how resilient the Palestinian people are. It bothers me. Of course, the people are resilient, but it seems to me that they should not have to be.

Kozol writes eloquently about this dilemma, "[Stories of resilience] have a reassuring quality that is not present in most stories that one hears about the lives of children in the South Bronx. Some preachers speak of situation of this kind as 'little miracles,'... The trouble with miracles, however, is that they don't happen for most children; and a good society cannot be built on miracles or on the likelihood that they will keep occurring. There is also a degree of danger that, in emphasizing these unusual relationships and holding up for praise the very special children who can take advantage of them, without making clear how rare these situations are, we may seem to be condemning those who don't have opportunities like these or, if they do, cannot respond to them" (160). Stories of resilience are important because of the hope they contain, but they are exceptional and thereby simply not the case for the majority of people. I would hate for the children not perceived as "resilient" to be blamed for it.

In writing my blog, I want to keep optimistic and tell stories of resilience, but I also fear that in always putting on a positive spin or showing the strength of the people, I allow my readers to get complacent. Indeed, I worry about letting myself get complacent. Suffering in the world can, and should, make us uncomfortable. Like Kozol, I worry that emphasizing stories of resilience allows us to ignore the ways in which our comfortable lifestyles in the US contribute to and even cause the suffering of others throughout the world.

On the other hand, I know that without a glimmer of hope, it is far too easy to drown in despair. One need only talk with someone suffering "burnout" in the social justice sector to know that you cannot dwell completely on suffering without some hope. In choosing the title of my blog, you may remember that I wanted to focus on hoping "for a great sea-change" and believing that "a further shore is reachable from here" in the midst of the pain and darkness in our world.

Perhaps the best thing we can do is to work hard to make something better. To align our gifts with the world's need. My YAGM family often quotes Frederick Buechner in his book Wishful Thinking, "The place God calls you to is where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet." Do something you are passionate about in a way that meets some of the world's need. I think that might be about the best we can do.

Volunteering Rewards

“I don’t know what your destiny will be, but one thing I do know: the only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and found out how to serve.” - Albert Schweitzer

One aspect of my work is recruiting, coordinating and managing a group of volunteer math tutors who work with our clients. The course is designed to help our students improve their scores on the community college entrance exam and, more importantly, to succeed once they are in college courses. Our students are refugees and other New Americans who are interested in pursuing a career in medical professions. One important part of helping these students score better and succeed in college is improving their math skills. Therefore we need reliable, talented and patient volunteers.

In the past we have had a core group of talented and dependable tutors who enthusiastically tutored each week. Most are back helping us this year, but due to some scheduling conflicts, not all are available this semester, so one of my first tasks this year has been lining up new volunteers. It has turned out to be surprisingly complicated since volunteers need more than just tutoring and math skills, they need patience and a willingness to help individuals whose first language is not English. I interviewed several individuals who did not have the time or interest in this type of tutoring. To be honest, I can relate. Tutoring math is, after all, hard work. Our tutoring is four hours a week, every week and although we provide books and materials, we expect our tutors to plan their own lessons.  I sometimes found myself wondering why anyone was willing to take this task on for free when they could probably get paid, albeit modestly, for this work elsewhere.

 Eventually I found one new volunteer who was quite hesitant at first, but eventually, she really hit her stride. Reliable and gentle, she made her three students feel at ease. I was impressed with her commitment as she even put in extra time working with students after class and preparing worksheets at home. Unfortunately, after two months of volunteering, a work schedule change made it necessary for our new volunteer to resign. On her last day, I was a bit surprised to note that she was genuinely sad to leave. Although she had been nervous at first, she told me, she had come to thoroughly enjoy tutoring. She particularly enjoyed getting to know the three women she worked with and she said she would really miss the challenge. To be honest I was a bit floored. Four hours a week of strictly scheduled, unpaid tutoring is a big commitment of time and mental energy in a busy world. Nonetheless, this professional was sincerely sad to leave. Clearly she was getting something out of this experience even if it was not money.

A few days later, one of the other tutors who has served our population faithfully for years, mentioned in passing how great this work is. He said that tutoring our clients really grows on a person because it is so fulfilling. His comment drove home for me what I had forgotten in the busyness of searching for new tutors: volunteering feels good for the volunteer. Doing something you are a good at, without monetary reward, is meaningful exactly because your reward is emotional rather than material. Now that I coordinate volunteers, I can see clearly how incredibly important good volunteers really are. We simply could not run our program without them, which means that for the volunteers this act of selflessness carries the considerable reward of knowing you have helped your community. I got so wrapped up in the quest for volunteers that I forgot the greatest selling point in my arsenal: volunteering is rewarding. It satisfies a longing for significant work and in such a dismal economy, there is something to be said for having some meaningful pursuits on the agenda.

Ironically, I myself have committed to a year of volunteer service, which is how I ended up in this position coordinating volunteers in the first place. Clearly I value volunteerism, though perhaps I had not intentionally reflected on why I volunteer.  I am grateful for my tutors’ reminder that volunteering has intrinsic value, not only for the organization or people served, but for the volunteer. Schweitzer’s quotation encourages us all to seek out ways to volunteer because he believes that it is service to our fellow human beings that makes us truly happy.