And I Will Try to Fix You

I have been meaning to write a post about this for a while, but when I'm not constantly reading, writing, or constantly thinking for my PhD program, I tend to want to do really shallow, mindless things like buying things I can't afford, watching reality tv, going out, etc. I also didn't know if I wanted to post this because it is pretty personal. Nevertheless, in the spirit of the famous feminine slogan, "The personal is the political," I am going to write about the uncomfortableness of this topic for the world wide webs to see, because it is really important to me as a theologian and a person, and I think it should be important for you, too.

Speaking of tv, I am definitely a Gleek and not afraid to admit it. I think that especially at the end of last season, the writers were brilliant when covering really hard topics like gay teens, teen pregnancy, sex in general, and mental illness. The "Born this Way" episode was amazing to me because it really empowered people to embrace who they really are, especially in the arena of mental health. Probably my favorite part of that episode was when Emma, the guidance counselor was in the therapist's office and finally admitted to herself how ashamed she was of having OCD. The therapist said to her, "Mental illness isn't who you are, it's preventing you from becoming who you are." She also spoke boldly about how mental illness is so stigmatized in this country and although most people deal with it, no one wants to talk about it. Brilliant.

Fast forward to about a month ago, when they continued to tell the story about Emma's OCD and how it affected the relationship with Will, her boyfriend/star of the show. When her parents came over for dinner (much to her horror), you could see how much of Emma's upbringing had contributed to and perhaps even created her OCD. Mental illnesses are definitely biological, however they are definitely also socially created by the actions/reactions that we have as children. The episode ended with Will trying to comfort Emma, who was in her own little world of pain, with the Cold Play song "Fix You" playing in the background. This episode was eerily similar to what was going on in my own emotional journey at the time when I watched it, and it definitely touched me.

In one of my classes, I wrote a response paper about H. Richard Niebuhr's book The Responsible Self, shortly after this episode aired. My paper revolved around the idea that for Niebuhr, morality is a person's response to actions done to him/her. Niebuhr views morality as responding to that which is acted or placed upon a person in their life. We as human beings and as moral agents are always in community, and there is no denying that the way we live and the way that we act is always integrally connected with interpretations of other people's actions and responses. We are communal beings, and for better of for worse, the way that we view ourselves is based on what we think others want us to be or what we think others think of us. In his chapter on the meaning of responsibility, Niebuhr claims that in our responsibility a person may attempt to answer the question "What should I do?" by raising a prior question of "What is going on?" or "What is being done to me?" It is impossible in Niebuhr's eyes to understand events or act upon each other as persons or groups without constantly interpreting the meaning behind another's actions.

Karen, where are going with this?? The reason that I am a big proponent of mental health awareness is because I myself have anxiety disorder. I have had it all my life I think, but it started to really flare it's nasty, cruel head in college. Ever since then, my relationships have been affected by it, and I have defined myself by it. Some people in my life have contributed to my anxiety, and some people have helped to calm me down. I am not at all saying that we aren't responsible for the way that we deal with our feelings (I know that I am in charge of getting help for myself and can't blame others for the way that I react to things), but I do acknowledge that my anxiety is not something that is an isolated affair, it is helped or hindered by my responses to other people's actions.

I have thought, many, many times, that if people found out what my anxiety truly looked like, they would want to run away. And some people have run away, which affirmed my great fear. But some people have seen me and stayed. Many of the people in my theology department here in Chicago have seen me in a bad state of anxiousness, and instead of fleeing, they stayed. That action caused me to have a reaction of peace, of calm...even if it was only for a few hours. I am eternally grateful for the people in my life, especially my family and dear friends who have sat with my by the bed like Will did for Emma in Glee, and lived out the song lyric "I will try to fix you."

The famous sociologist Charles Cooley present the image of the "looking-glass self" when describing the way that we view ourselves. "Each to each a looking glass reflects the other that doth pass." In other words, when a person responds to another action, they are interpreting the meaning of the actions upon them, and often reflect back to the world a version of themselves based on what they perceive these outside meanings to be. I want to be able to reflect back to the world a version of myself that is strong, confident, resilient and compassionate. Sometimes, however, life and mental health gets in the way, and we reflect back a distorted image that we aren't good enough, we aren't lovable, we aren't important. I hope to always remind myself that there are wonderful people in my life who are constantly building me up and are always there for me when the actions of others or my own reactions get me down. If we are always choosing to act based on the activity which is already around us, then I want to choose love, I want to choose life.

"The world will knock you down more times than you can imagine. Don't knock yourself down." ~Adam Braverman, "Parenthood"

Finding the Dalmatian

Ok, so I'm totally doing this when I become a professor. Today I had my second PhD course, and it was a course about fundamental Issues in Christian Ethics, particularly in terms of faith and morality. This is the kind of stuff that I love, learning about feminist ethics, social justice ethics, and just how the hell (pun intended) can we use this faith that we have to make a difference and to create a more just and loving society. Anyways, my professor is an Ethicist, and he is probably the funniest prof I have ever had thusfar...but amidst the joking was such a strong message. So here is the activity that we did today about a dalmatian and the kingdom of God:

We were all given a piece of paper with black and white splotches all over it, and on the top of the paper it said "top" so we knew which way to hold it, and at the bottom it said "Find the Dalmatian". So, being the visually astute person that I am, I stared and stared and within a few minutes I raised my hand to say that I could see the dalmatian. There were only 2 other people who could "see" it, in a class of about 20. When I went outside in the hallway so the professor could verify that I could point it out, he just shook his head no and said that I still hadn't found it. The other 2 people tried to show me what they could see, but the stipulation was that they couldn't blatantly trace it out for me, they had to try to explain it. Phrases like "it's actually smaller than you think" and "it's not looking at you" made me more confused, and I was trying for the ENTIRE class to find the Dalmatian. To the point where I could barely listen to the professor because I was so upset that I couldn't see it, or that I had thought that I had seen it but really was totally wrong.

The way the prof linked this with faith and morality is that in a very real way, this is how Jesus must have felt when trying to explain the Kingdom of God to people. He KNEW that the dalmatian was right in front of them, but all that they could see were black and white splotches. He couldn't "trace" the image for them, he had to explain the kingdom in parables, hoping that they would finally see it for themselves. That "aha!" moment can only arise out of the person finding the dalmatian and then, all of a sudden once they have found it, they can see nothing else. How frustrated Jesus must have been when he tried to tell his disciples "it's right there in front of you!!" but couldn't force it upon them (perhaps because of free will, perhaps because every person has to come to belief by themselves??). The prof said that the people like me were very much like Peter....they wanted so badly to believe, wanted so badly to see....but they just couldn't. I just couldn't. I feel very much like a Peter in that I believed that the dalmatian was there, but I just couldn't see it myself. I actually thought that I saw it, but then was told that that was a "false" image. Some people are like Paul and they all of a sudden see it and then their lives are changed because now they can't see anything else in the picture.

I'm not really explaining the powerfulness of the activity very well for those of you who weren't there, but it really got me thinking about faith, and about the constant struggle to see what is right in front of you. Right now, I'm having trouble seeing. I'm having trouble believing that God knows the desires of my heart and is going to give them to me at the perfect time. I'm having trouble seeing how being in a whole new city, torn away from my dearest friends and family, will feel like home. I really really want to see, but I can't right now. And like Peter, I'm walking on the water terrified that I'm going to drown- oh me of little faith! What would it mean to finally see things clearly? How jealous I am of people who do see it clearly, with no trouble at all! It's kind of ironic that I was so sure I saw it and then was told "nope, that's not it"...how often I think that I know what's best for me and what truth is, when really it's just a distortion of my human and biased eyes.

In the end, I forced one of the girls that could see it to go in the hallway after class and literally highlight the dalmatian for me. I had no "aha" moment, just a relief that I solved that puzzle for the morning. So I kind of cheated. But deep down, I know that me finding the kingdom of God will be the greater struggle, and there's no cheating. So, like Peter, I'm just gonna keep trying.

Charity, Justice, and being convicted by love in El Salvador

This past June, I went with my home parish, St. Catherine of Siena, to El Salvador for 10 days to visit our sister community in a village called El Sitio. I hate to call it a mission trip, because we weren't really going to evangelize (most of the people were already Catholic), and it wasn't even necessarily a service trip...it was more of an immersion, a visiting of friends, who would soon become like family. I could write about how great it was to bring medicine to the village, to help them install water filters, to guide them in their village meetings, and to play with the kids- it was. But I think that the point of this trip was not really to "be one with the poor" or to give pieces of our wealth to people living below poverty level, however gratifying/selfless that may feel. I think that the point, though I may be corrected, is to understand how their life is like, to learn from them as fellow human beings and share our stories.

There was an article that we were told to read before we left called "The cost of short-term mission trips", and it talked a lot about how at times it is futile for North Americans to go on mission trips for such a short amount of time because they immerse themselves in a situation ridden with poverty, bring some of their first-world goods, play with the kids, and then comfortably go back to their relatively pampered lives. This often leaves the people who went on the trips feeling proud of themselves for "surviving the dump" and for "giving back" and the people on the receiving end depending on these kind of handouts and free gifts from the people who come.

When I was in El Sitio, I feel like I learned from them more than they could ever learn/receive from me. I learned how the power of forgiveness can overcome even the most brutal of wars. I learned how even when you don't have that much, you can still be so generous. I learned that education is perhaps the most important thing that a person can have, and it is a glimmer of hope in the midst of young teen pregnancy, the oppression of women, poverty, war, and governmental oppression. I learned that I feel more alive, more like myself, when I don't constantly have technology to distract me from my real problems, though technology certainly serves a great purpose. Sometimes I can have so much yet feel so alone, as I suspect many Americans feel at one point or another.

But on to the theme of this blogpost, which is my discovery of the fine line between charity and justice during my time in El Salvador. On one of the first nights there, I remember having a night-chat with my group leader Bryan about how guilty I felt about how dirty I thought the outhouses were, that even the "master bedroom" that they gave me left me feeling kind of repulsed and like I was "camping". What made me feel so bad is that I knew that I would only have to "put up" with living in the location for a week, when for the people of the village, this was life. What did I do to deserve a flush toilet, the luxury of stepping out of a pristine shower and feeling so clean, and enough money to always keep me fed, happy and with options in my life? I am so spoiled, and yet so underserving. Furthermore, what good can it do when we North Americans come down to El Salvador with money and gifts, when even if they work all day in the fields they still won't make enough to survive on their own and feed their families? Are we perpetuating the "handout" culture that short-term missionaries have created? Where is the justice and can things change?

I asked myself all of these questions and had a kind of word-vomit conversation with Bryan that night, and it left me constantly wondering what I, as a Catholic first-world citizen can do to help people in developing and third-world countries self-sustain, and have a good quality of life. I don't want to give a man a fish (I've only actually fished like 3 times in my life, haha), I want them to be able to fish themselves, get paid a just price for their fish, and not have to rely on the U.S. for handouts. Surely the Jesuits who stood up against injustice in El Salvador, and Oscar Romero, would agree that as Catholics we have a duty to stand up for justice and have a preferential option for the poor. What is theology if it doesn't spur people to practically apply the gospel in their everyday lives? And so, as I enter my PhD program, I want to focus on how my theological studies can contribute to liberation, to thriving and to a more just world.

Gender Neutrality

Just wanted to quickly post this NPR article about gender- it asks great questions about what gender means in our society today!! http://www.npr.org/2011/06/24/137342682/the-end-of-gender?ft=1&f=1001

Happy is the Heart

I haven't blogged in quite awhile, ever-consumed by my Master's thesis, which has now been successfully defended and approved by the Graduate School! In writing about female sexuality and the issues regarding a woman's vocation within the Catholic Church, I found myself finding questions that arose out of questions, and it seemed like I could never really hone in on one specific argument without finding myself caught up in many other arguments and discussions regarding a woman's natural and divine "role", sexuality in general, and Church teaching about reproduction. It is definitely something that I want to come back to, once I've taken some time away and cleared my head.

In an attempt to put my faith into action, and to stop thinking about myself all of the time, I decided to take part in a 10-day young adult delegation to El Sitio, El Salvador, with my parish from home. I'm really excited about this new spiritual adventure, and I really love the people that I am going with. To prepare for the trip, they recommended that we see the independent film "Voces Innocentes", a real-life story about a young boy growing up in El Salvador during the civil war in the 1980s. The film was really really good, and it got me thinking a lot about the loss of innocence, and how it is nearly impossible to get it back once it is taken away. The boy underwent experiences that I cannot even imagine having, having grown up in middle-class suburbia in a safe and wealthy country. The priest in the story lamented how the children of El Salvador, by witnessing violence, bloodshed and hatred had lost their childhood innocence which had been replaced by fear, pain and bitterness.

Although living in a war-torn country certainly does NOT compare to being brought up in a relatively safe, stable and just society such as the United States, I definitely started thinking about the parallel between the loss of innocence that the people of Latin America experience by physical and environmental effects and the loss of innocence experienced by many Americans as a result of emotional and domestic effects. Let me explain...

I cannot tell you how many young males I have talked to within the past few months who have specifically told me that something in their past has caused them to fear, avoid and sometimes disdain love. I have observed this in women as well, but definitely not to the same degree. They say that they don't want to get too close to someone because then they risk vulnerability, which ultimately will lead to devastating hurt. A lot of the young men I have heard this from have had parents who have gotten divorced, and on top of that have had heartbreaks of their own, or feelings of abandonment. They have admitted to me that they don't want to make the same mistake that their parents did, and that they don't want to feel that hurt again. So they distance, close up, and stick to the superficial. I am not blaming them, but I look upon this trend amongst young people growing up in the 21st century United States as something that is to be mourned...a loss of innocence to love.

Granted, My parents are not divorced and a lot of my friends never experienced this growing up either, but I have had my fair shake of heartache, even devastating heartache. A few people have told me that in order to protect myself, I need to guard myself from people in order not to hurt so much again. While there is indeed truth and wisdom in guarding your heart, I refuse to become another person closed off to love, keeping my heart in a prison and thinking that every person has the potential to hurt me. While many other people may cause me pain, I think it would be a disservice to myself to lock it up and not let people in for FEAR of what may happen. Fear is the enemy, not our helpmate in life. As Ingrid Michaelson sang, "Happy is the heart who still feels pain." At least I am still feeling something, good or bad, and have not lost the innocent hope that everything will turn out ok. Hey, I might even be blissfully happy someday...I'll take those odds ;-)