Sharing Stories

"We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way." -Bishop Ken Untener (an excerpt from a prayer written to Archbishop Oscar Romero)

It's a strange place to be, in an elementary school, when the rest of my community serves people experiencing homelessness or mental illnesses. I'm on the other side of treatment--prevention--and it seems incomplete here. Others hear stories and have conversations with underserved people who have anecdotes to share about challenges overcome and those still being faced. Stories are where I find love, sorrow, and joy with other people. How do I find those feelings in my service?

I was informed today that I will be fluent in Kindergartener by the end of the year through my blind immersion into daily lunch/recess duty for the 103 five to six year olds at the school. As far as I can remember, the only experience I have speaking this language is for one year 17 years ago. Henceforth, today, I was faced with a challenge. There she was, the cute little blonde, leaning against the tree crying. From what I could tell at approximately 19.37 feet away, all her limbs were attached and no lungs were punctured by wild flying sticks or invisible swords. I cautiously approached and introduced myself. She asked if I was a teacher. "Am I a teacher?" I wondered in my head. "I'm sort of like a teacher," I concluded out loud, "what's the matter?" 

Before I knew it, we had an audience. Not the quiet kind. More like an improv comedy show where people are announcing solutions to each scenario and hinting at what the next line should be. I was coming up with each new line, moment by moment, hoping one would appease the small girl. She had fallen while running across the playground, no one's fault but Gravity's, and I was suddenly a doctor with an audience. I know how to work a crowd most of the time, so I asked the other Kinders if they had fallen and hurt themselves, too. This was either a mistake or the best idea I've ever had, because the stories came flying out, and I love stories (but I'm not entirely sure this Kindergartener was so fond of them in this moment). The girl remained seated for the remainder of recess but miraculously healed in time for P.E. class. And I got my fill of stories. 

I solved problems for an hour today with the Kinders at lunch and recess. I opened some string cheese packages, encouraged everyone to finish their grapes, and introduced the idea of sharing kickballs and basketballs an infinite number of times. But there was one problem I was left with to solve: Am I a teacher?

Now this isn't something I plan on knowing an answer to any time soon. I'd like to think, rather, that I'll always be a student--learning what it means to be alive and live in this ridiculous (but absolutely beautiful) world. But a lot of this year is about finding my vocation to at least some degree, even if that just means crossing one option off the list (speaking of 'the list', it is actually growing instead of shortening right now). I have this one, extraordinary life to live during which I will always be trying to better understand my purpose in the world and my meaning in life. Right now, the best way I can do that is by listening to stories--both told and untold--and loving, so that I may understand.

As you may recall, I bike to work nearly every day. This ride has certainly become an integral warm up and cool down for my daily service exercise. It's an awesome time to prepare myself for the day ahead and then reflect back on it before getting home each night. Regardless, I was fortunate enough a couple weeks back to have the opportunity to ride on the bus and train to a training much farther away than my usual location. It turns out I'm not the only outgoing person in Portland. People seem to have no fear in approaching a stranger to talk about cooking squash on a waffle iron or to point out that I look like an artist (I'm not an artist, for those of you who were wondering). People need to be heard and loved and proved of their humanity. It's part of life, and I'm glad to be present to and learn from people, stories, and tidbits of knowledge. 

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I'm keeping very very busy here. Portland has so much to do and see in these beautiful sunny months, and we're trying to do all of them. This weekend I biked to and then went on a hike with Cara in Forest Park (largest urban park!), went to the Mexican Independence Day celebration in town, and went to the Columbia Gorge (which is absolutely gorgeous) for a hike with our support people. This week I'm going to watch the Swifts (bird migration!), semi-hosting an outdoor movie with a huge Portland JVC Northwest group, and going backpacking. Since last post (a long time ago--sorry!), I got to go to Saturday Market a couple times and attended "Last Thursday", which is...so far...the most 'Portland' event I've been to. "Keep Portland Weird" is not just a bumper sticker; it's an active movement to make sure no one forgets how strange this place is and the push to keep it this way. 

Things are pretty good here in the Northwest. I'm excited to keep exploring, meeting new people, and learning new things on this awesome journey!

Peace, 

Steph

Movement and Life

Remember freshman orientation in college? You walked around meeting people, asking all of the most riveting questions: Where are you from? What are you doing? Where are you living? Sometimes you got into a good conversation over common interests or similar past experiences. Every once in a while, you'd stumble upon a face you knew before arriving and would remember you weren't alone. At times you felt overwhelmed, lost, and anxious for the year to come, but there were people there for the sole purpose of supporting you and helping you find courage. You would never talk to some of the people at orientation again, but it was worth it, nevertheless, because you felt connected and that you belonged, at least to some degree. You were all in transition. 

Four years later, I find myself in this position again. Dozens of new faces around me and the newness of the program, the community, and the location overwhelming me, and likely everyone else. At the first meeting with my community, I expressed being at peace and ready to take on a new year. Was I? Of course. But, wow. My life was moving, and I was being moved.

Movement is good. Sitting in the grass on a warm sunny day, you notice bugs crawling in the grass, blowing about in the wind. The earth is always moving, from those single blades of grass to the sand and people on beaches to the tidal waves of the vast oceans to the shooting stars in the Portland sky. Everywhere you are, there is motion, there is life. Movement can be subtle or extraordinary, but in a human life there is always movement of the heart.

On the final day of orientation at the missioning ceremony, my heart moved immensely. We stood in small circles in our communities in front of FJVs, current JVs, Jesuits, support people, area directors, and staff and were told to go and love. The emotions I'd been holding all week let loose, and I returned to my seat with a red face, wet eyes, runny nose, new family, and a heart yearning to love more. I was moved, in that moment, by the dedication of that room of people to love and share life with other human beings. I knew I was ready to move into my new home in Portland and the lives of the people around me.

We arrived at our house--a flat, an 8-bedroom apartment on top of the main office, or as Justin said so elegantly, "a penthouse-condo-suite"--and, after some careful decision-making, unpacked our two bags of luggage--our only belongings--in our new rooms. Reality was setting in: a new time zone, a new home, new friends, a new city, and a new life, just like that. I was actually beginning to feel established, and the amazing support people now regularly appearing at our door, enhanced it. By Tuesday (we moved in Saturday), I could /almost/ get around the city with a bike and a street map. I biked 21 miles that day, and my bum is still displeased. It's a big, hearty hug saying, "Welcome to bike commuting, Steph. Get used to it."

I'm planning to hit the ground rolling tomorrow--the first day of my 6.1 mile (each way) bike commute to the school. There are far beyond your usual number of bike commuters, and I fully expect myself to immerse in the culture of Portland the right way: pushing pedals. 

The first two days of serving with my agency were filled with training and meeting new people, whose names I need to practice. Today, Day 2, I went to a meeting for the program's overnight trip to the zoo next week, and connected with a few of the elementary students. In the afternoon, I met about 20 more students who are partaking in the Portland After School Tennis & Education (PAST&E) program. They approached me, one-by-one, with hands extended to firmly shake my hand, look me in the eye, and greet me with their names. I returned the greeting, and horribly mis-pronounced most of their names. Someone needs to work on her Spanish accent. 

Either way, I'm moving. I'm excited to continue training and learning the city and school. Transition isn't simple, for sure, but I feel welcomed and alive in this new community. It still seems a little surreal, but life is happening, and continuing to embrace movement and vulnerability is essential for me to love fully while on the move. 

Welcome!

Welcome to my blog for my JVC Northwest experience! I'll be updating this blog periodically so my friends and family can keep up with my adventures and stories, challenges and growth.

This coming year, I'll be the SUN Site Assistant at James John Elementary School in Portland, Oregon. I will be working directly with an after school program for kindergarten to 5th graders during the school year and assisting with a summer day camp when the time comes. Everyone I've talked with about my placement only has good things to say, and I'd say my sources are pretty reliable: the director(s) of the program, the current JV, and the site director (who works for JVC Northwest).

I was so excited today to find out who my community is for the coming year. My seven housemates seem awesome on paper, and I look forward to meeting them at JVC Northwest Orientation in a couple weeks! I take off from Omaha on August 4th and Orientation begins on August 6th at Camp Adams in central Oregon.

Here's the address of my house in Portland. Beginning August 12th, you can send mail there!

Steph Haas
3924 N. Williams Ave.
Portland, OR 97227

You can also contact me via email at stephanie.lynn.haas@gmail.com!

I am so enthusiastic going into this year-long experience. JVC Northwest seems to be exactly where I'm called to be next year, and I cannot wait to move into a new chapter of my life while holding onto the importance college had in my personal formation!

Peace and Love,
Steph