Towards a Joyful Soul

This year, I decided to share some of my Austrian Christmas celebrations, specifically a German Advent song and Sankt Nikolaus Tag traditions, with my fellow housemates and Dan, the site coordinator. Tradition has it that St. Nicholas comes around houses and puts goodies in the boots of good children. His counterpart, Krampus, purportedly steals the children who have been bad. But those who have been good get small goodies, often food and socks or mittens. Unlike Santa Claus, Sankt Nikolaus Tag is separate from Christmas Day. It's during the same season, but the Christ child is the gift brought on Christmas (in my mind, this is one reason that there is less of a conflation of capitalism and consumerism with Christmas in Austria). On December 5th, I told my housemates to put their shoes outside with essentially no other instructions. All I told them was that it is part of my cultural heritage. They were suspect and probably a little confused, but did it anyway. I went to th

As you may or may not already know, this year I am working as the Program Assistant at Eden House, a long-term residency program in New Orleans for survivors of human trafficking. Even though I have written many weekly blog posts, I have rarely included anything about my work because of confidentiality and because I struggle knowing how I ethically present the things that my day includes. One of my tasks at Eden House is to schedule Professional Development workshops for our interns. A couple of weeks ago, Leanne McCallum, who leads the Greater New Orleans Human Trafficking Task Force, was our scheduled speaker. After getting a general understanding of what the Task Force does, one of our topics of conversation included myths about human trafficking. Some of these myths include that only foreign nationals are trafficked, that trafficking always includes smuggling, and that trafficking always includes physical violence or abduction. (read more about  misconceptions  and  myths )

Bittersweet: (adj) being at once bitter and sweet especially : pleasant but including or marked by elements of suffering or regret One evening when we were sitting in our common area, David said, "Hey guys, I have something to tell you." "I got a job." "But they want me to start right away, so I'm gonna be leaving in a week and a half." Bittersweet. I am so incredibly excited for David. He basically got his dream job, working at an ocean education and conservation organization. What an incredible opportunity. I have seen first hand how working with and even just talking about this organization gasses him up. But, we're losing a community member. I'm losing someone who understood mental health. I'm losing a calm force in the house. Nate is losing his roommate and coworker. (the other) David is losing the other extrovert. We're losing the person who did the dishes every night because he wanted to. It feels like we're going

Over the last few months, I have been trying to find a church to attend regularly. I was reminded of  this video , trying to find the PERFECT church. It was clear to me after attending national orientation and going to a few Presbyterian churches in New Orleans, that I did not want my home church to be Presbyterian. Too liturgical and too white for my comfort. The whole "call and response" thing freaks me out every time.  To be clear, I'm not saying that these worship methods are  wrong  by any means, just that they are not my personal preference. So I created a list of what I wanted in a church: multi-ethnic, contemporary worship songs, and lots of Spirit. I went to one church that was okay, but I didn't immediately love it. Also, their air-conditioning was a little too high for my comfort level. I would continue searching. The next church I went to was falsely advertised and the moment I stepped in, I knew that it would fill none of my requiremen

One of the reasons that I decided to come to New Orleans was that the community ethic was "seeking God in the tension of sorrow and celebration." As a person who struggles with depression, I'm really good at focusing on the sorrow, without balancing it with celebration. That's part of the reason for the title of this entire blog page, "Towards a Joyful Soul." I hope that over my time in New Orleans, I will be filled with joy and learn how to find joy in the midst of sorrow. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5 Personally, I tend to live on the inverse timeline. As one of my housemates says, "Everything sucks forever." My default mode is recognizing all of the issues in my own life and in society. Occasionally, something wonderful will happen and I will be temporarily happy, like going to watch the sunset with snowballs.

Simple living. Living an abundant life with less. That is one of the 5 core values of the YAV program. A few months ago, I would have compared this to the vow of poverty that monks and nuns take. Or at least made some implication that I would be poor for the next year. How wrong I was. How embarrassed I am to have had that understanding. How could I have been so naive and ignorant, especially considering the research that I did in school? Poverty isn't something that you temporarily choose to be a part of. Even though I am receiving a small stipend... I have a car to drive to and from anywhere that I want to go. I have the resources to evacuate if needed for a hurricane. I have a steady and reliable income every 2 weeks. My parents can send me the fancy dress that I forgot to bring for the fundraiser and an extra hubcap for the one that fell off my car. I can go to counseling regularly because my parents have offered to continue paying for that. Another family mem

In our society, life is so often guided towards achievements. In the past, I always had goals that would objectively measure my success. In my academics, I was aiming for high grades and ultimately graduation. In musical theatre, I was preparing for the next performance. In dance, I was practicing to win the competition. But as I was driving to work, I realized that there's nothing in my life that is directed towards a measurable goal. Everything in my life right now is simply heading towards nothing. I don't get a certificate of completion at the end of the year. I don't get any reward or consequence for how well or poorly I do my job. I'm not making enough money to be saving towards retirement or to support a family. I won't have a performance or competition for the dance classes that I'm taking. Maybe that is why a service year like this is so antithetical to social intuition. But what a blessing from God it is. I get to just be. I get

New Orleans is so often characterized- a city of jazz and Mardi Gras. New Orleans is so often victimized- a city of poverty and Hurricane Katrina. Over the last month of living in New Orleans, I haven't lived in THAT city: the one of extravagant parties and extraordinary pain. But there's definitely a different culture here. ~ I remember having to give a speech at a youth camp in Austria about the differences between US American culture and Austrian culture; sharing the differences between my mom's culture and my dad's culture. Most of the differences seem pretty small, so the differences are kind of hard to explain. In Austria, school children take public transportation instead of having specific school buses, colleges and universities don't have exorbitant tuition rates, people regularly buy loaves of bread from the bakery instead of pre-sliced manufactured loaves, etc. They all seem small and they're not all exclusive to one culture, but each thin

The novelty and excitement has already worn off. It didn't last long. Working 9 to 5 is exhausting. College didn't prepare me to work 9 to 5. For the last four years, I've basically been able to set my own schedule and do a lot of work from my bed. I didn't have to go out into the world or interact with people unless I really wanted to. I came home and could hide in my room or interact with one of my two apartment-mates. But for the last two weeks, I've had to leave my house by 8:30am, not to arrive home until 5:30 or 6pm. I spend the whole day in an office, calling people, answering phone calls, talking with my coworkers, talking with the residents. I like the work that I do, but as an introvert, it's exhausting. Then I come home to a house full of people, who I also want to catch up with to care for the house community. And this weekend, I don't even have Saturday off because we have our monthly community day. I want to pour into my work community,

About a year and a half ago, I realized that if I sat down in the same position for too long, my whole leg would go numb. Not fun, but an easy solution: don't sit in the same position for too long. This past summer, though, my leg started getting worse, especially when I was trying to sleep. I had pain all the way down to my toes. That's when I got a bit scared. After a month of physical therapy, my physical therapist figured out the problem: my sacroiliac joint had come out of place. She readjusted it and my pain went away. So, for now, I need my SI joint readjusted about once a month or if I do something that's particularly bad for it (sitting for extended periods of time, playing golf or cornhole). I don't even have to keep going in to PT, anyone can readjust it! Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. While I was still at home, my dad would lovingly readjust my joint for me. But how do I tell 5 strangers that I just moved in with that I need one of them to pull on my

This was my first week of work, so I figured you might want to hear a little about it! Here are 3 small vignettes that give an insight into the various aspects of my job and how this week went. 1) On my very first day, I was given a letter by our Program Director, "I don't know if this is a bill or not and I'm not sure if we have to pay it." I open it. I read it. It says that we haven't yet paid our water bill and we have 10 days for it to be paid before they will send a 3rd party collector. Clearly this needs to be taken care of soon. But where is the bill? How much is the bill? How can we get a check approved when our Executive Director is on vacation? Ok. I'll figure that our later. I look at emails. There was a response to an email that had been sent out the week before about times that a women would be available for a signature. Who is this woman? What is she supposed to be signing? Where is what she is supposed to be signing? Why does she have

"How do I live with guys?" Sympathetic laughter followed. That is the question I posed to the women's affinity group at national orientation. Here in New Orleans, our site is an outlier. We have 4 guys and only 2 guys. We've addressed the gender dynamics in various ways at our house so far.  We've endured the awkward silence and laughter as we discussed how much or how little is appropriate to wear around the house (for the guys  and  the gals). We've also discussed how safety in the city is different for women and should be a community concern rather than a burden only for the women. But I think it's harder to set guidelines for emotional aspects of gender dynamics. ~ On my first day of work this week, I came home exhausted. I had no physical, mental, or emotional capacity to deal with anything. Then one of the guy housemates made me so frustrated. I was so angry I felt sick to my stomach and started crying. My internal dialogue: Are these e

National orientation was full of theoreticals, taught at us as we sat in an auditorium. That's what I spent the last 4 years of my life doing in undergrad. That's what I wanted to get away from by spending a year volunteering. Not that theory is inherently bad, but it is incomplete. It's significantly more difficult to understand the meta-level without having informing experiences. Intellectual beliefs do not equal visceral knowledge. I wanted to build relationships. I wanted to build experiential knowledge. By the end of my time in New York, I was so ready to go back to New Orleans, to start building relationships with my roommates, to get to know the city that will be my home. That's exactly what we've been doing this past week! We have spent time talking about house expectations and having fun with one another (celebrating my birthday!). We have spent time meeting the people who we will be working with and even meeting some of the people that our housem

In the last week, I spent 3 days driving to New Orleans, moved into my new house, met my housemates, flew to New York with them, and have had 5 days of national orientation. me, once I had unpacked my room Pic cred: Davis me with Sarah, my roommate  and the other girl in the house Pic cred: Sarah's mom we were brought a cookie cake by a Board Member Pic cred: Sarah Each day has been jam-packed and exhausting. The first day that we arrived in New York, I was not doing great. I was exhausted from days of travel. I spent lots of emotional energy meeting new people and being "fun." The introvert in me needed a break. But instead of much needed alone time, I got up at 3:30 am to catch a 6am flight. I also am not a morning person and have a lot of travel anxiety when flying due to past hospital visits, so just the perfect combination. I was filled with worries about living in a new place and new people and with my defenses down, past traumas relived

I have a Type A personality. I like lists. I like order. I like organization. I like plans. I leave tomorrow and there is so much I don't know and can't plan for for the year ahead. I feel like a tight rope walker. I have planned as much as possible and made the net below me that will catch me if I fail, but I don't know how long or high or wide or tight the tightrope is. I don't know what material the rope is made of, will it be on fire? I don't know whether the crowd will be nice or boo me and throw things at me. I don't even know how to walk a tightrope. I'm afraid of the unknown and, starting tomorrow, I will be jumping into the unknown. I'm so anxious. I have many, many unhealthy coping mechanisms for anxiety that are actually quite destructive to me. As I get closer to my big move, they are getting harder to resist. I have to be more creative in my coping strategies and I have to lean more and more on my support network (that's you!).

I just got back from Austria! I spent two weeks there with my mom, seeing family and friends, enjoying the mountains and lakes, and eating lots of good food! Here are two things that I learned about in my time there: 1) Identity For as long as I can remember, I've struggled to feel "Austrian enough." I'm not visibly and identifiably different. I'm white, don't have a foreign accent, and grew up in the US so I don't have any super strange international quirks. Unless I tell people, they don't assume I have any other significant cultural heritage. When I do tell people that I'm Austrian, they often interrogate me, making me prove it to them. Where you born there? Did you live there? Have you been there? Do you have their passport? Do you speak the language? This last semester, my counselor and I had a conversation. It was clear that the acceptance of others was a vain pursuit. So aspects of being Austrian were important to me?

Huge (but quick) update! So if you read my previous blog post , you know that I originally was planning on working at a garden. Then, the site supervisor asked me interview with a tutoring center and, after contemplation, I agreed to switch my placement. Well, it happened again! I interviewed with an organization called Eden House  for my placement. Eden House is an organization that works against human trafficking. They do this through both housing and serving survivors as well as education and policy advocacy. I am excited about the important work that this organization is doing and I'm also excited about the relationships that I will have with the staff and residents there. However, I recognize that this work will be difficult. I'm a very empathetic person and secondary trauma is a real possible condition. With this placement, over the next year, I will need to be especially proactive about taking care of my mental health. Your prayers and support in that are much

Three years ago, my good friend went into ministry. Like I do, she had to build a support community. Like I do, she recognizes that there are multiple types of support necessary. At the end of her presentation, she asked me for various types of support: 1) pray, 2) give financially, or 3) connect her to others. I didn't really have the funds to give, but I felt bad saying no to everything, so I said, "I'll definitely pray for you!" In the last 3 years, I've prayed over her ministry probably about 4 times. As Christians, we very often use prayer as a strategic tactic. We use it to deflect difficult decisions and avoid  hard conversations . We use it as an excuse. How many people who told me that they will pray for me while I'm in New Orleans actually will? How many were just saying it to avoid an awkward ending to the conversation? How many times have you told someone you would "keep them in your prayers" or that you were "praying for

Thank you. You are my God, and I will praise you; you are my God, and I will exalt you. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever. Psalm 118:28-29 As a young child, my favorite band was Point of Grace. To this day, I still have their songs and melodies memorized. One song is called, "Do It Again" and here is the first stanza: Just when I think it couldn't be Any harder down here, Another blow comes out of nowhere And knocks me out again. And when I think I'm all alone, The phone starts to ring; It's just the voice I needed to hear On the other end. I used to think, "How cool would that be? If all of sudden the phone rang and it was a friend who told me exactly what I needed to hear in that moment." But I didn't really believe that that would happen to me. Not that I didn't think God was capable, but maybe I thought I wasn't special enough. But that's what happened today. Not once