Getting used to it.

In the space between this post and the last, I have had a very difficult time sorting out how I'm feeling, what is interesting to share, what should be kept to myself, and in the end- what is most necessary for people to know.

Something that has been on my mind a lot lately is the experience of being a woman in Milwaukee. I have grown up and been educated in such a way that I have rarely ever felt held back by my gender. In fact, most of my life it has been just the opposite. I spent a lot of time in college reflecting on the systems of privilege and oppression that are acting in my life (shout out Nick Cubita), but that introspection has taken a very different journey in Milwaukee.

In Seattle, I grew accustomed to taking long walks or drives in my neighborhood at any time of day. I could walk one block and sit in a clean and safe park where I could sit and stare at the sun setting behind the Olympic mountain range. In Milwaukee, I feel uncomfortable walking outside alone at any time of day, and there are no clean parks in sight. I get to work about an hour early most days because it is when I can travel safely with one of my boy roommates. The short walk I take alone between our service sites is frequently interrupted by catcalls or even a car pulling over encouraging me to get in. Keep in mind this is all around 8am on a beautiful autumn day. The frustration in knowing that I can't walk anywhere alone in the area around my house or my job is crippling. I have always coped with the stress of life by walking and thinking and reading in parks. This year, I am almost completely dependent on other people to accompany me in activities that have become intimately connected with the core of who I am. The stubborn side of me likes to push the limits of this dependency and escape alone into our neighborhood. Each time I have been forced home by the uncomfortable feeling that I am extremely vulnerable.

This reality is shocking to me. Every morning and afternoon I have to plan my commute home around someone else. I can't walk to the grocery store to pick up something we forgot for dinner. I am a proud and independent woman who has had to swallow a big piece of humble pie and admit that I need other people to keep me safe. Aside from my stubbornness, admitting to this reality has forced me to think long and hard about the reality of human relationships. Coming into this year, I was looking forward to engaging with a new community and neighborhood. I never once thought that there would be people who didn't really want to engage with me. It has taken me about this long to think that it is okay to pay attention the feeling in my gut that says, "Abbey you aren't safe here". That doesn't have to mean that I am furthering stereotypes or not giving a person a fair chance. It means that I am paying attention to the reality of my situation.

This isn't to say that there aren't wonderful parts about our neighborhood like our next door neighbor who weeds our lawn and brings us tomatoes. It also doesn't mean that Milwaukee is a terrible place to be. It is a beautiful city with so much culture and history.

It is a constant struggle to give up parts of my independence. It feels almost as though I am giving up parts of who I am and coping skills that I have spent so long perfecting. I get so angry every time one of the boys leaves the house alone and walks to the gym or to play basketball. I want to believe that time and some TLC will make me immune to the reality that I am held back by part of my identity that I have been raised to be proud of. But, everyday when I cross into the four blocks surrounding our house, I still get a sinking feeling in my stomach. I remember walking in silence with my roommate one day last week and crossing that threshold. He broke the silence of my thoughts by looking around and saying, "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to this."

At first, I was saddened by that thought, but after a couple of blocks, I was energized by it. We aren't supposed to get used to it. Our discomfort should be a foundation for conversation and change, not something we get used to. I don't live in fear or anger at my reality, but committed to it. Like I said, this is one of those things that I felt was necessary to share. It is hard to talk about because I don't want to take away from the wonderful parts of our neighborhood and community as there are many, but it is important to pay attention to feelings of discomfort too.

This city has already opened my eyes and heart to realities I didn't know existed. Here's to hoping that I never get used to any of them. .

Comfort

Today I got most of the day off of work and find myself sitting outside of a coffee shop on Lake Michigan. I just finished a delicious sandwich and am savoring the first iced latte I've had since leaving Seattle.

As I enjoy the tranquility of the afternoon, I find myself almost forgetting where I am. A beautiful lake, some coffee, and a book feel just like most of the days I spent in Seattle this summer. I am feeling a joy unlike any I have had since moving here. I am peaceful and comfortable partaking in a routine that I have spent most of my adult life creating. It isn't hard for me to forget the stress of my work week or  the struggles of my patients. In the midst of the comfort of my afternoon, there is a constant feeling that keeps popping up and reminding me that this is just the illusion of home.

As I look around me, I recognize very little. There are the landmarks that I know from exploring the area this month, of course, but still nothing feels like it is a part of my world. I don't know anyone who is sitting near me, or the name of the neighborhood where I am. It still shocks me sometimes to see only Wisconsin license plates on the cars driving by.

I liken this feeling to the first few months of college. I know only 7 people my age in a city I've never been to. I don't have my favorite neighborhood place to grab a beer after work, or my secret beach where I can go look at Mt. Rainier. I don't have friends who live nearby to call and say get a book and come join me here. I feel lost and a little stagnant. I'm unsure of where to go and feel like I've bored my roommates half to death with my stories.

It is a humbling experience to leave behind what is comfortable to engage in something new. My roommates and I talk a lot about the importance of engaging with the people around us on a daily basis by offering a smile or a good morning to people we pass on the street rather than retreating to a  phone or some other distraction. We talk about it in reference to the people we serve and the neighborhood we live in sometimes as if it is an abstract concept that doesn't really apply to us. But, as I sit here in this coffee shop, I savor every smile or hello that comes my way. I don't remember a time when I have relied so heavily on small interactions with strangers to fill my people quota for the day. I appreciate so much every person that takes an extra second to acknowledge me.  In paying attention to that feeling, I wouldn't say I'm lonely or sad in any way, but more longing for the comfort of belonging.


I really just want to know Milwaukee and the people in it. I know that it takes a long time to create a community in a new place, and that will come with time. So, for now I am grateful for the people who welcome me with a simple smile or nod in my direction. I will continue to appreciate the comfort of an afternoon filled with my favorite things and continue to explore and build a new home.

Connection

I've come to realize in my haste to blog the past two weeks that I never really explained the title of my blog. One of the mottos or catchphrases of JVC is that after a year of service you will be "ruined for life". Before I started my year, I had heard this phrase used about my Jesuit education at SU, and often joked about it in conversation with friends. After a month here, I have definitely come to understand it in a whole new way. The impact of the stories I hear, friendships I have formed, and things I have learned have impacted me in a very permanent way. I often find myself projecting what I've learned so far into the years of my life that will follow this one. I know the year has just begun, but I'm fairly certain that my life is beginning to be shaped and "ruined" by what I've learned in Milwaukee. More on that later I'm sure I shouldn't get too ahead of myself.

I spend more time reading this year (finally!), and recently came across a passage in my book that articulated some of this learning and ruining much better than I ever could. The author writes that he feels,

"grateful for the world which purposefully puts divisions in place so that we can overcome them, feeling the joy of getting closer, even if deep down we can never forget the sadness of our insurmountable differences"- The History of Love

This passage made me stop and think about many of the connections that I have made here in Milwaukee. As I mentioned in my last post, I have spent a lot of energy so far shifting my perspective to one of permanent gratitude. It is easy to become overwhelmed by the difficulty of creating connections with another person. I know I struggle with this daily at work trying to connect to patients who have struggles unlike any I have ever experienced. This exhausts me at the end of the work day, and then carries over into going home and building community with 7 other people. It has felt at times like an insurmountable task that will be a permanent struggle for me.

But through the exhaustion, there really is so much joy in overcoming division and connecting to another person. This month has had no shortage of this joy. 

I think it is important to pay attention to the second half of this passage as well, especially in the context of service to marginalized populations. In building connection, it is also important to remember that there are many ways that I will never be able to relate or connect with my clients. It would be naive of me to expect a deep and intimate connection with everyone I serve this year. But, that in no way should distract me from the gratitude that accompanies overcoming divisions and the joy is present in connection. 

Today is the beginning of another week where I hope to live and act in a deep sense of gratitude. Be it for divisions or connections, as both are part of the beauty of building community. 

Happy September! Sending all my love.