oh the people you'll meet (the london edition)

Perhaps you know that Dr. Seuss poem, the one (all too) frequently used in graduation speeches.
"oh the places you'll go "

"You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know."

It was just about a year ago that I left India, home bound and forever changed.
Since then, I have called four different cities home, welcomed to each place by new friends and old.

I may not have his doctorate, but I think I'd want to re-write Seuss' poem to say 'Oh the people you'll meet'
to convey my gratefulness that I am not 'on my own.' Because when the brains in my head are spinning, my feet weary,
my direction unclear, and when it is hard to convince myself that I know anything at all, it is the people along the journey who
make it worth the while.

I don't always remember the place. I rarely explore it to its potential. i forget the historical details-- the sights and sounds.
but, oh, the people. they ARE the experience. they are the teachers, the guides, the memories.

the piece of india that i will always carry with me is that of community. the people who were gracious enough to allow me into their community, to make me a part of their very family and lives are the essence of what shaped my journey and what continues to shape my life. It is likely that I will never see them again, but I have learned how people can touch your lives if only for a brief period in life.
We have to weigh the costs. I am a girl who feels life very intensely and the thought of engaging someone, sharing myself with someone at the risk of 'losing them' as life moves forward, frightens me. But to allow this fear to prevent me from embracing life head on would be a tragedy.

This i have learned in this transient life: sometimes you physically lose people and wonder why your time was so short. sometimes circumstances in life keep you from crossing paths again. and, sometimes your dearest friendships are built on letters and emails and the hopes of saving enough money to fly cross country.
however it may be, there is no doubt that these people touched your life and shaped who you have become.

before the summer gets away from me I want to share how my time in London allowed for community to come full circle
in more occasion than one.

The first story is about the gift I received in living with my childhood neighbor and babysitter from before the age of two who has remained my mentor and big sister. To get the opportunity to really know her husband and be there for their one-year old daughter was a dream. Long after the mental images of big ben or london bridge fade from my memory, I will still be able to close my eyes and see allison and I twirling sweet Rae around the kitchen singing coldplay songs at the top of our lungs.

community continues and changes and reforms in a new place.

The second story is that of an unlikely sequence of events. When I was unable to go home from DC over Thanksgiving, one of my best friends in DC, andrew, was gracious enough to welcome me into his family celebrations. It was on this trip that I realized that his older brother would very soon deploy to Iraq. At a loss of the best way to support this dear friend, I did the only thing i could think of-- I began writing letters...with cookies, of course.. to his brother, brian, surprised (and humbled) by the correspondence I received in return. after departing iraq in april, brian returned to cambridge where months later he kindly welcomed me into his community and provided a unique reunion of sorts for two pen pals.

sometimes community just happens and widens in ways we would have never expected.

and it is these people who can make a place HOME.

as I continue to go the places I go, my hope is that I will never cease to appreciate the people i will meet.
and may i lovingly invite people into my own community.

Reform

Today I had the opportunity to speak along with my dad at Central Presbyterian in downtown Atlanta on the topic of education as a Human Right and our commitment as both a Church and a Culture to learning and service. Essentially, I consider education a human rights issue when someone is denied the access to (an equal) education based on any discriminatory factor. While education may not be an essential life component like air, water, or food, I have witnessed people whose ability to obtain such fundamentals is compromised because of their lack of access to education.** This morning was a time for me to continue sharing my experiences of my year in India. After an engaging conversation, I wanted to continue these reflections. (Coincidentally, I have spent the past week thinking a lot about my own educational experience and its purposes):

Among my peers, I have discovered a common experience of what I have deemed a ‘mid-graduate school crisis.’ It is the moment when, engrossed in a field that has significantly narrowed since college and has certainly become a more noticeable investment of time and money, this student simply throws her hands in the air to proclaim, ‘What am I doing and why I am here?’ Followed by a string of musings about her purpose in this attainment of a higher degree and where it will take her, she ultimately lands at the challenge in discerning the very point of education. As an invaluable part of young adulthood, this time of discernment allows us the opportunity to extract meaning from both the life we live and also the way in which we engage the world around us.

For me, education is not a means to an end. It is not a degree that will offer me a more secure career or placement in a lucrative field. It is neither a stepping-stone nor a conclusion. Instead, I believe the purpose of education is simply service. Education is a lifelong act of service and in return service a lifelong act of education. I will continue to be educated, guided by others and by my own experiences, until it no longer lends itself to the service of others. Thus, my hope for myself (and for others) is that this process of education is one that will expand across a lifetime.

The protestant faith, born as a 'protest' to the Religious establishment, was a movement deeply rooted in the ideals of reformation and transformation-- begging for change. Ever reforming. Ever reforming. We are changed and refined by our educational experiences. As the hands of God, we serve creation best when we engage in the continual process of our own edification. We are called to a life of learning. Likewise, education, as a process of reformation, prepares us for a life of service. And, in turn, it is by serving others that we receive the greatest educational experience and, truly enjoy the fullness of life.

**It is through these lens that I engage such issues as healthcare, also noted for its controversial classification as a universal right. certainly a hopeful idea. but, rights must be married to an equivalent dose of responsibility. Not only are we responsible for our own health, but also, as a nation (or a globe), we are responsible to eachother to create a culture that addresses individual livelihood issues as a prerequisite for building a healthy nation. It is necessary to ameliorate these challenges at the root-- reforming our agricultural policy and school nutrition, families, fitness, and finally, transforming our entire food culture and system.
It is only after we address these fundamental issues that we will see change.
Then, we will have to examine our culture. I think the bottom line is that we can be a very selfish nation. Is it possible to look beyond ourselves? Can we care enough about our neighbor to even want them to have access to even the most basic of healthcare services?