Factions

I blog more than most YAGM and to be honest, sometimes I'm not sure that that's actually a good thing.  I feel like my blogs aren't as poignant, as meaningful because I write more often.  In each, I try to communicate what I see here in Mexico but often struggle to understand exactly what it is I'm seeing.  Or what it means.  Nonetheless, I felt called to write this particular blog because of some things that have been in the US news lately.

Those of you who are familiar with my Facebook well know that I often use it to post political messages.  So far in my blog, I have intentionally avoided that topic because of the way it divides whoever may be reading my blog.  But in this case, division is what I'd like to call out.

I  was recently asked to describe the United States to someone who has never been there.  I didn't know where to start.  What part of our culture do I talk about?  What parts should I leave out?  While the US is certainly a great country, there are, nonetheless, traits not so glamorous.  Consumerism run amuck.  Wealth disparity.  Factions.

Despite our name, we are not a country united.  Debates over what race Santa Claus is or whether a tv network should suspend someone for their comments create divisions galore.  It's interesting that these arguments would make almost no sense here.  Who would care what Santa looks like or what someone said?  Compared to the challenges of life where I am currently living, these fights are seemingly trivial.  What's more important is where clean water will come from, how schooling will be paid for, and what kind of work will be available tomorrow.  These are this real debates being waged right now in Mexico.

As Christmas approaches, maybe we can put an end to this petty 'war' we're in for a little while and focus more on the real issues at hand: poverty, discrimination, power imbalance, hatred for other human beings.  If we can do that, perhaps we'll be taking a step in the right direction.

The Hunger Games: Factual Fiction

This blog is reproduced from The Road Less Traveled By, a blog written by Augie Lindmark.

When I was young—for me, young is defined by overalls and crayon usage—numerous fictional books found their pages turned by my curiosity. My adolescent years were full of The Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and the Redwall stories. If my younger years embraced fiction, my time as an adult has been buttressed by facts in non-fiction text. Because the majority of the books I read today touch on topics like health care and liberation theology, I had no intention of reading The Hunger Games. That intention didn't last long.

While the story might be geared for a teen audience, it was hard for me to not grab a copy at the local library. When I walked in, an entire bookshelf sagged under the weight of hardcovers and paperbacks from author Suzanne Collins' trilogy. A week before, Netflix introduced me to the first Hunger Games movie so I decided to read the first book. And then the second. Then the third.
 

In a blazing fashion last week, movie screens around the world offered early releases of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire. With the first weekend under the belt of this young blockbuster hit, its audience continues to expand.
 

For those of you displaced from the buzz, much like myself a few weeks ago, the protagonist, Katniss Everdeen, lives in a world called Panem. Katniss hails from District 12, one of twelve forlorn districts that surround a pristine capitol. Years ago, a revolution organized by the Districts was stifled with deadly force by the capitol. Intolerable work conditions, marginalization from society, and as the series' title suggests, hunger, are all epidemics of life in a District. The capitol, on the other hand, sits in luxury and profits from the Districts' labor. With regard to quality of life, the capitol is a diamond in a landfill. The crux of the story exists in the retribution for the Districts' uprising—each year the capitol forces the twelve communities to send two tributes, children between the ages of 12 and 18, to the capitol where they fight to the death. Amidst the blood and gore, one victor remains standing. Welcome to The Hunger Games.
 

The storyline contains your familiar themes of love, good versus evil, and suspense at every turn. But underneath the fantasy and artfully crafted characters rests a story root that is anything but fiction. We might not live in Panem, but the Hunger Games are closer to home than we might think.
 

The canyon between fact and fiction is easily bridged.
 

Between the first two Hunger Games' books I supplemented my reading with Howard Zinn's, A People's History of the United States. In his work he takes a unique approach not found in general history books—he describes history through the lens of the oppressed. Starting in 1492, Zinn narrates our history into the 21^st Century by highlighting the defects of a society focused on material gain and the increasing gaps between the elite and the forgotten. Starting with Christopher Columbus and the ransacking of America and bloody massacres suffered by Native Americans, to the barriers female Americans faced in the early 1900s workforce, the reader's eyes are pried open to the social structures of power and oppression ingrained in our history.
 

As I read Zinn's work, I was easily frustrated. I felt confined in the layers of oppression like I was running through a maze without an exit. At one point I flipped to the next page and half expected Katniss to jump out of the text. Instinctively, I closed the book and checked the cover. As you might expect, “Hunger Games” wasn't printed on the book's skin. I had crashed into the understanding that the text of a factual history book uncomfortably reminded me of the inequalities in Panem. The distance between Collins' fiction and Zinn's facts were two adjacent puzzle pieces of a larger picture.
 

Upon diving into the darker areas of U.S. History, you might think you were reading a novel; the facts of atrocity are hard to digest. In the case of slavery, a destructive need for constant growth and production made the oppression of a people based on their skin color a pragmatic approach for cheap labor and high returns. Racism, then, was a tool to keep the structure in place. It was a means to parry the effects of revolts and unrest. By creating an environment where the poor whites without land resented blacks held in bondage, there was a divide between the oppressed factions.  The separation of exploited groups—blacks, indentured servants, and women, among others—weakened their collective indignation and diluted the likelihood of an organized uprising against the land and slave owners of the 18^th and 19^thcenturies. A buffer against the highest echelon of society made the people forget who the real enemy was.
 

Howard Zinn reported on history; Suzanne Collins wrote fiction. Zinn took the view from below; Collins wrote from District 12. The style of writing between the two authors is night and day, but the themes are nearly identical. At one point in A People's History, the reader is reminded how financially fortunate individuals could avoid the Civil War draft by contributing a $300 offering. This 1863 Enrollment Act created a line between rich and poor where the wars—carried out for the interests of top officials—were fought by the poor. If you had the money, you were safe, if not, good luck. If you want a fictional take on the matter, look no further than the Districts of Panem. In Panem, you can apply for a Tessera if you are between the ages of 12 and 18. The Tessera provides a meager amount of grain and oil to combat a life riddled in hunger and poverty. But it comes with a cost: in doing so, your chances to be chosen as a tribute increase. If you are poor, your options are limited and the architects of the systems have an incentive to keep you there. Wars need soldiers. Massive accumulation needs workers. Somewhere buried the trenches of consumerism and production, someone takes the blow.

You might be thinking—but weren't these issues in the past? I wish I could say that Panem has one percent of its population controlling 40% of its total assets. Unfortunately, that fact is attributed to the United States. It reads like fiction, but sadly, it's our reality. 

So how can we use The Hunger Games to our real world advantage? A platform of country-wide readership and the silver screen has massive outreach. That reach is tailored to the generation most able to facilitate changes in our historically deep institutions. Our infatuation with the bold characters of which we read and watch must be used to galvanize young people to engage in what we see as unjust. The lack of access to health care; political elections as a monetary fist fights instead of democratic representation; and increasing achievement gaps across racial lines in our schools are urgent challenges that need to be faced.

But when we look at people that stood up to injustice, in fact and fiction, they rarely acted alone. A revolt in Panem wasn't feasible until the Districts united and fought as a unified force. Katniss had plenty of help in her survival. Historical figures such as Martin Luther King Jr. and Susan B. Anthony were fantastic leaders, but they were also individuals in much larger movements of people. When we place leaders on pedestals we wonder if we can ever reach that level. Instead, we must think off addressing the social cancers like racism, income inequality, homophobia, and sexism through movements of people with different talents, backgrounds, and ideas. When we move in concert with one another, we rise to a level of leadership that exceeds any metrics of measurement.

With the second movie titled “Catching Fire” I think about how sometimes we just need a spark of creativity or motivation to get the flames moving. If bringing needed change in our world is not the work of one person, we should ask each other about what makes us tick. What's your conviction? How do you define injustice? How do we address it? If we manage to identify the importance of constructive collaboration, dismiss the notion that our voices go unheard, and facilitate productive means of organization in our efforts, we'll be on the right path. When that day arrives, the odds will be ever in our favor.

A Year

People warn you when you tell them that you’re going to live abroad for a year (as they should) that it’s not like vacation.  It is for the first few weeks and even months, but then things often change.  I’ve even seen manuals about it.  After about three months, it’s easy for the rose-colored glasses to come off and to find oneself jaded.  Nevertheless, I can’t really say that I’m that homesick.  But I will admit this:  It certainly does not feel like it’s three weeks from Christmas.  With temperatures here in the 70s during the day and 50s at night, it feels more like it did in the States when I left than December. 

Today I also realized that my alma mater, UW-Stevens Point, is having its end-of-semester Concert Band and Wind Ensemble concerts tonight and tomorrow.  The significance in this is that it will mark one year since I’ve played with that group.  Even though I didn’t graduate until after I student taught in May/June, I haven’t really been on campus or in the NFAC regularly in almost 12 months.  Being here in Mexico now makes me think of how many things can change in just a year.  It wasn’t that long ago either that I was filling out my YAGM application and doing phone interviews with the ELCA about this exact moment here and now.

At our retreat last week, some of the other YAGMs brought up that unlike last year, absolutely none of us have any idea where we will be a year from now.  Of course we have ideas, but nothing as concrete as before.  As we get into the thick of Advent and approach Christmas, remember that things are always changing.  I think that’s the true message of Christmas.

Happy U.S. Thanksgiving

Happy U.S. Thanksgiving!

I know,I know, I'm a few days late.  I've been busy, so cut me some slack.  We started our week last week as a group - all of us traveled from our respective locations to Coyoacan in Mexico City where we spent a few days at the Lutheran Center for our retreat.  The focus was globalization and it's effects indifferent countries.  Undoubtedly all six of us have seen the effects of globalization in Mexico, whether as a part of its economy or how it affects the people here.

One of the things I'm reminded of is that globalization doesn't always refer to giant corporations acting globally.  Sometimes it just refers to the fact that aim able to call home on a U.S. holiday from miles away or that I am able to receive packages from there.

But in many ways, it does refer to corporations.  It refers to exploitation.  It refers to being trapped in poverty.  So on this Thanksgiving, I encourage you all to be thankful for what you have.  You can afford to be in a heated house in parts of the country where it is cold.  You have access to food in many forms and can choose what you eat and when you will eat it.  You can travel to other parts do the country to see relatives quickly and without too much hassle.  And you can do all of these things knowing that you will be safe.

In Spanish, the term for Thanksgiving is 'el accion de gracias' - the action of thanks.  Yet for many, what follows Thanksgiving is anything but.  It's hard for me to imagine Black Friday, Cyber Monday, or any of the sort as an action of thanks.  It's hard for me to imagine that attitude as being indicative of any type of thankfulness.

So here's my challenge to you.  Being thankful is nice and all but if that's all it is, it doesn't really say much.  So between now and Christmas, which gives you just about a month, do something you normally wouldn't do.  Try going a day without something you would normally have.  If you want an easy challenge, go without Facebook, a certain food, TV, or a hobby.  If you're up for a little more difficulty, go without the internet at all, talking to friends except in person, or your cell phone.  If you really want a challenge, try doing without your car, turn your heat down to 55, or try using only 10 gallons of water the whole day.  I realize that this may all sound ridiculous, but it's not actually that far-fetched here.  Many people here do it every single day.

So that's my challenge to you.  No one is going to force you to do it, but if you do, I'd love to hear your feedback about how it went.  Most of all, realize that there are many things to be thankful for in your life, even things that you normally take for granted.

Happy Thanksgiving and Feliz Navidad

Something to Share

For this blog, I have nothing profound to share.  

Instead, I’m just going to tell you something that happened.  

After all, that's what this blog is for.

This past weekend I was at a friend’s family party for a first communion.  

An elderly woman was dancing when she collapsed.  

Her heart had stopped.  

It did not start again.  

May her soul rest in peace.

A Reality Chef, Quantum Physics, and Holocaust Germany

 On ‘Dinner: Impossible’ chef Robert Irvine walks into a situation where he is expected to prepare a meal from scratch.  He’s given one hour, a few ingredients, and little to no help.  Yet somehow, episode after episode, he manages to create exquisite cuisine out of what seems like nothing.  Sometimes, this is how I feel in English class.

After two months of practice, I’ve pretty much got down how to teach English class with nothing more than a chalkboard and a used textbook.  Alright alright, I have a few other resources like the Internet, some other used textbooks, and five years of university training on how to be a teacher (albeit for music, but hey, minor detail).

So when someone brought up Mayan history today and mentioned the scientific advances they made, it came to me how much I have in terms of knowledge.  In the United States, I’m not viewed this way.  To adults, I’m 23 and just a ‘yuppie.’  To employers, I have no experience.  Even in the world of education where I’ve spent 18 years of my life, the most I can talk about is my undergraduate degree.  And yet somehow when I talk to people here, I’m an expert on everything.  I know world history, I know math, I know science, I know politics, I know religion, I know how to read, I know how to write, I speak (nearly) two languages – one of them being English.  English!  I speak English!  It’s as if the world is at my fingertips.  I know computers, I know technology, I know how to cook, and I even know what ‘quantum physics’ means.  (I said know, not understand).

The world has been designed in my favor.  Before I was even conceived, it was set up to work for me.  I speak a universal language.  My passport lets me go virtually anywhere I can dream of without question.  I’m white – and if you think that isn’t still a thing in today’s world, visit any third world country and take a look at the color of the skin you see.  The deck was stacked long before I came to play and I was dealt a loaded hand. 

Which puts me in a very awkward position.  I never asked for any of this.  I didn’t choose this.  I never said, “God, give me privilege.”  None of that ever happened.  But here I am in Mexico feeling guilty because of fate.  Dorothy Soelle, a German theologian once said, “I am responsible for the house I did not build but in which I live.”  As a Christian living in Holocaust-era Germany I doubt she was thinking about globalization, but she has a good point.  I am responsible for taking what I have and using it justly.  I am responsible for calling out those who unfairly stack the deck or take advantage of it.  Today I am responsible for being a celebrity chef. 

Wrong Way

“Wrong way!  That’s the wrong way.” a voice called out to me last Saturday as I made my way through the train station in San Rafael on my way to the city.  Hearing English in a diverse place like Mexico City isn’t all that uncommon (I’ve been “interviewed” at least three times at random by someone doing a school English project) but in San Rafael, still a good ways from the city center, hearing fluent English is a bit of a rarity.  “That’s the wrong way,” he said again, “you have to go over there.”  I looked ahead and realized that I was headed for the ‘exit’ turn-styles rather than the ‘enter’ ones.

“Thanks,” I said, “you speak English.” 

“Yes, I lived in Los Angeles for seven years,” came the reply.

“Where are you going today?” I asked.

“To D.F. (Mexico City).  I’m meeting a friend.  He has some money and we’re going to the U.S.  On the ‘Bestia.’”

Surprise turned into shock.  Not only was someone was openly telling me their plans to enter the United States illegally, but on the Bestia too – a freight train that runs the whole length of Mexico south to north.  Many people are often killed trying to board or experience terrible violence along the way.

As we continued our journey on the train, he told me about his life.  “I’m from Guatemala, not Mexico.  I have family both there and in the U.S.  A daughter who is 14-years-old.”

We continued on, talking about everyday things like music, sports, life.  At one point I lost track of which station we had just been through.  “This one is Fortuna – the next one is where we get off.”  He hadn’t forgotten for an instant.  We transferred to the Metro once we reached the last station.  At the stop where I had to get off, we said goodbye.  I had known the man for maybe half an hour but he will always be a friend to me.

As this weekend comes to a close, I think it is important to realize that God always sends us the right guidance when we are going the wrong way.  All we have to do is see it.