Dear Friends and Family,
I deeply hope that this finds you all in good health and full of joy. We have been diligently working on many things here in Los Angeles since the last time I wrote all of you. In the past few months our community has experienced much excitement and some great sadness as well. Our tutoring program swelled with a record number of children at the end of the school year. Beyond school work, basketball, soccer, water games on hot Saturday afternoons, and movie nights have been great hits. The number of community programs in the past few months have kept my roommates and I constantly on the go, and at times near exhaustion. However, we are experiencing much growth in these times of physical and spiritual exertion. We have seen a beautiful community garden come together in our front yard with the help of neighbors and countless volunteers.
On Sunday afternoons it has been a blessing to step outside a space that was once only a front yard, brush the dirt off my hands, and greet a neighbor for the first time. While taking breaks from working in the garden we have developed many new relationships with neighbors who before had no reason to stop and chat. Now as they run errands or walk their dogs, we can converse about the size of the zucchinis or the growth of the pole beans across the once barren fence line. Lately people have been wandering over out of pure curiosity about what we are doing. For the first few weeks it must have looked like we were crazy ripping up all the grass in our front yard by hand. However, with lots of sweat, eager kids, volunteers, and a neighborhood dad who brought years of farming experience from Mexico we cleared all the grass out and thoroughly tilled the soil. This task took over two months and at times we all had doubts that it would ever be completed. Personally I felt quite a bit of anxiety about our project during this time, because with the removal of the grass we crossed a point of no return. I was afraid that we would never get all the grass completely out and that if we did we would never get anything planted in its place. Like with many things in life, we had to spend lots of time and energy on a task that was not our ultimate goal, but a necessary part of the process. This year I have learned what it is like to live in these moments as a community and not an individual. As an individual it is easy to succumb to worry and anxiety because you only see what is possible through your own eyes. However, as a community we are able to expand our vision to include the hopes and dreams of our neighbors. I have found this common vision to be filled with more beauty and grace than even the grandest dream of any single individual.
The garden came together marvelously through our collective efforts. A friend named Lawrence drew a beautiful design for our garden which divides the bed space into the shape of a stained glass window. A stranger in Long Beach named Roger donated a truckload of bricks, thanks to Craig’s List, and these became the pathways. In addition to donating citrus trees and lots of supplies, Lisa, our volunteer horticulturalist, gave hours of guidance on gardening in Southern California’s climate. Many people gave cash donations for starter plants and seeds. The first seeds were planted by eager little hands which only weeks before struggled to rip out the deep rooted grass.
As our neighbors became more confident that we would succeed they began to offer suggestions of what should be planted. Herbs, hot peppers, and tomatoes were near the top of most lists. I have a special affection for okra, so there are four okra plants right in the center of the garden. I like to think that this year the garden has a southern heart since the okra is in the middle. We enjoy generous encouragement about the work that has been completed so far, even from neighbors who were initially skeptical about our intentions in their community. People have this deep desire to be part of the growth. After my experience this year with our garden, I feel like I have a grater appreciation for the creation story found in Genesis. For people of many faith backgrounds life begins in the context of a garden. This year many beautiful relationships have grown out of our work in a place filled with plants. Anytime we set foot in the garden kids wander over to help, they love to play in the dirt, feel the earthworms wriggle, and imagine what the produce will look like in a weeks time.
I have been surprised by one thing, and that is the desire for flowers in the garden. In my mind we would plant as many vegetables as possible that would mean lots of produce and that would be success. Adults and children alike have been adamant that we include a variety of flowers in the mix, so sowed among the rows of vegetables are Dahlias, Zinnias, and Four O’ Clocks. Against our back fence line, we have planted a row of Sun flowers that will soon be taller than some of our youngest friends. Living in community constantly reminds me that we can find a balance in life where beauty is a synthesis of many ideas. The flowers that I overlooked and considered unnecessary will bring little creatures to spread pollen among our vegetable plants and neighbors who find vibrant colors more appealing that squash and string beans.
Another part of my life during the past few months here in Los Angeles was a four day service—learning retreat. My roommates and I really wanted to visit Mexico and serve in an orphanage, but many factors, specifically escalating violence across the border, caused us to consider staying in the LA area. After some deliberation we decided to redirect our attention domestically and found several incredible opportunities to serve and learn. Instead of heading south across the border into central America, my roommates, program director, and I spent a weekend with two families who came to the United States hoping for a better life. In addition to learning the stories of these two families, we served at Project Angel Food and 826LA.
Immigration is one of the hottest and most controversial issues in Los Angeles. I have come to understand this a little by observing the coverage of this topic in local media. Reading a book by a LA Times columnist Hector Tobar, “Translation Nation” also provided me the foundation to begin asking important questions. I look at immigration in a new way now that I have relationships with people who are directly affected; many of my neighbors, my homeless clients, and members of my church personally feel the effects of immigration law. While living is South Carolina and Georgia I seldom crossed the invisible wall and language barrier separating me from my Spanish speaking brothers and sisters. I enjoyed going out for Mexican food with my family in Walterboro and shopping at Tres Hermanos market in Atlanta, but I never worshiped with people from Central and South America. I never wondered why there were not Spanish speaking people living in my parents neighborhood, despite the fact that they care for many of the lawns and gardens up and down our street. I never sat down and shared common meals with people who did not speak my native language. I have read the stories of the Tower of Babel and Pentecost many times, but this year is the first time I have really heard God’s voice in any language but my own. I listen for what God is telling me through my Spanish speaking brothers and sisters and I know that my God is a God of all people. Until life in Los Angeles I never made an effort to cross lines of blatant segregation in my community and the Christian Church. In the South we are not strangers to segregation, people my parents’ age saw this practice in place. We have together abolished laws that separate Americans by color, but we have not moved beyond living in communities that are still divided by color, language, and income.
In our effort to learn more about immigration issues we spent a weekend with two women, Liliana and Yolanda, both of whom are living in Sanctuary. Liliana is a vibrant individual, the wife of an American and mother of three beautiful American children. For the past couple of years she has been living inside Los Angeles churches because our government has deemed her “illegal” and ordered her deportation. Before her deportation orders Liliana had been living and working in the United States for over fifteen years. She has built her life and a family on California soil and considers it her home. The circumstances surrounding Liliana’s entry into the United States are complex yet rather common. While there is a case against her based on present laws, it is difficult for anyone to overlook the fact that she has an American family and three children under the age of eight who need their mother. When we asked her why she came to the United States she explained that economic downfall and instability in Mexico made employment almost impossible; however, in the United States opportunities appeared to be endless. We asked her why she chooses to stay in the United States now even though our government, and many anti-immigration activists have told her she is not welcome. Like any mother she looked at each of her children taking inventory of their little smiles and bright eyes, she paused for a moment and with a certainty that I have often seen in my own mother and father replied, my family is why I want to stay in the United States they are the most important thing in my life.
My roommates and I decided not to leave this country for a weekend because we feared the chaos and instability in parts of Mexico. If I feel like a place is not safe for a four day retreat then who am I to send someone else there, especially if this person is needed by three little children who deserve the care and love of their mother. Our other new friend Yolanda has been living in the United States long enough to raise an American daughter who graduated from high school this year. She like Liliana built a life here, but a little over a year ago Yolanda was told that she is “illegal” and must leave the United States. She moved into a church in Los Angeles with her teenage daughter who will begin college in the fall. Until legal issues surrounding her immigration status have been sorted out Yolanda will continue to seek the protection that one Christian congregation in this city offers her. Yolanda, a single mother, is able to work at a school inside her church to support her family. Liliana and Yolanda never leave the church properties where they have been offered sanctuary, because doing so would put them at risk of arrest. Both women express that at moments isolation and loneliness overwhelm them. They do not dwell in despair because they feel blessed by the church communities who have taken a risk and offered a way to keep their families intact. I am not sure of my exact stance on immigration issues because of my experiences, but the love and compassion two churches are showing Liliana, Yolanda, and their families feels like the Gospel to me.
On the Saturday night of our retreat we received a phone message that one of our neighbors, Cecilia, had been killed by a drunk driver at 4:30 in the morning. Her husband and eleven year old son, Alexis were taking her to another part of the city where she works cleaning houses. Cecilia’s husband is the neighborhood dad I mentioned above who helped us get our garden stated. Cecilia and her four beautiful children have been active participants in our programming since the day we moved in to the community house last September. Bubbling over with hospitality, she invited my roommates and I to her home before she even knew us to celebrate the first birthday of her daughter Arelli. We hosted a traditional Latin American Christmas event called the Posada, and Cecilia came with her family. She was one of the only people at the event who knew how to sing the traditional song correctly. Even though she was often the most quiet person in the room she boldly lifted her voice in Spanish announcing to the neighborhood that at the community house Mary, Joseph, and the Christ Child were always welcome to find shelter, safety, and gracious hosts. I cannot say that I have always lived up to the charge found in the lyrics of the Posada song this year, but Cecilia’s voice still serves as a powerful blessing over this space where we daily encounter God’s children.
This spring Cecilia and her best friend Emma, another neighbor, helped prepare a traditional Mexican meal for a fundraising event at our house. I feel so grateful that I was able to spend hours in a kitchen while they taught me to make tamales by hand. I feel like there is something sacred that happens when more than one my female neighbors from Latin America enters a kitchen. If they don’t chase you out in the first five minutes you will be blessed by their beautiful language, humor, strength, and femininity, I feel so grateful to have shared this with Cecilia even if only a few times.
She and her husband had been living in the US for over seventeen years and their children are all American citizens. However, he does not have any documentation making him “legal.” In the accident he suffered broken ribs and was transported to the hospital for care, he was also driving, both of these things mean that his status in this county may now be in jeopardy. Investigations of the accident are taking place right now. If these proceedings bring attention to his immigration status he may face deportation orders. This will cause an even greater strain on a family that has already suffered so much. Cecilia’s two older daughters Wendy, thirteen, and Alicia, fourteen, have already taken on most of the responsibility of their one year old sister Arelli. I can’t imagine what would happen to this family if their father was forced to leave the United States.
This series of events has really caused me to look at immigration in a new light. It is no longer a problem that I hear about taking place on the borders of Arizona, Texas, New Mexico, and California. Immigration is an issue that grips many members of my community. I am not trying to talk about laws in this letter, there is a place for that and it is important. Here I am just sharing what I have learned and felt this year. I know that my faith calls me to respond to this issue through a Gospel perspective. The Good News tells me that I am responsible for the poor and oppressed fleeing their homeland seeking safety. The Good News tells me that the garden in front of our house does not belong to me or my roommates, but it belongs to all of God’s children. Jesus teaches us to create an upside down world where the poor have plenty, because even if we refuse to acknowledge it they already have the rights to God’s Kingdom.
Living in intentional community constantly leads me to the question: what is mine? The longer I live this way, the more I realize my sense of ownership over portions of God’s creation is an illusion caused by sin. I use the word sin here to indicate, separation from a God of grace and Love. For me reconciliation with God comes when I bond with the grumpy neighbor over some green beans, when we feed the family that has noting to eat, or when we simply take a moment to recognize that the plenty of creation has been given to all of humanity.
With Love and Peace,
Alison
1 comment:
Very detailed and moving narrative of your time here and the things that have impacted your heart. So glad you shared.
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