The Dominican, The Church, and The World

            

Photo by Bill Patrick

There are some new and exciting opportunities that have come up in my life, but in order to properly explain how they affect me, I must backtrack to this past year and the adventures it contained. (feel free to jump forward as you wish)

CULTURE SHOCK

            If you’re reading this, you may have read my prior blog postings about my trip to Uganda I took a year ago. (I can’t believe it has already been a year since my return!) I tried to be honest in my writings about how heavily I was affected by that trip and about my exposure to a new and very different culture. I tried to be vulnerable about my struggles and the difficulties I had adapting. The trip was easy for me to take because I delight in the idea of adventure and mystery, but the constant discomfort I felt in every circumstance, the heavy realization of my own race and culture, and the homesickness that weighed me down were nearly impossible to endure. It was because of the love and support of the people who I have met along the labyrinth of life that I was able to push through until the end.

            The advancements in travel in the last 200 years have been extraordinary. The first car with an internal combustion engine was created in 1807. The first gas-powered car was in 1886. In 1902, The Wright brothers lifted off the ground in the first fully-controlled aircraft. Many Christians and humanitarians alike have taken advantage of these progressions. Like butter on warm toast, people have slid their way across the globe into new settings and cultures. Anthropology and science have expanded, foreign business has been utilized, media and news has reached a global level, and many cultures have unfortunately suffered in the process.

            Uganda is a country that has had many visitors from around the world. As I stayed in Jinja, I got to experience this tourism first hand. Jinja is a common site for adventurers from all over. There is white-water rafting and kayaking. People enjoy testing their luck and skill when fishing for Nile Perch. It is home to the “Source of the Nile” where some of Mahatma Ghandi’s ashes were supposedly released to flow within the ebbs of the river. There have been many Europeans and North American’s who have made Jinja their home, establishing restaurants for tourists, development workers, and missionaries to dine in comfortably when they eventually tire of beans and posho. Uganda was a British colony up until 1962 and continues to hold onto English as one of its national language. This also makes travel more accessible to foreigners.

            Because of these developments, the publicity around some Christian charity workers, the connection that a certain evangelical church has drawn between “the pearl of Africa” and Jesus’ parable in Matthew 13 (Go watch God Loves Uganda on Netflix), and the rise of the Ugandan adoption “market”; many Christians have decided to make Jinja their destination for short and long term mission trips. There is no wrong in working toward the education of a culture. There is no wrong in attempting to build up a supportive, loving and empowered community; however, when you neglect to learn the behaviors and history of a culture, you are most likely doing them a disservice.  One of my biggest struggles in Jinja was seeing my Christian brothers and sisters strive to make great changes for people they love and pray for, but neglecting to stick around long enough to follow up with the people they encountered and learn if their service was actually developing and advancing the community. Many Ugandans have learned from their Christian visitors that White people know more and have more than Black people do. When we go into a community only to teach and give, if we forget to learn and receive, we are being a proud people. There are obviously going to be times (for example: relief aid) that giving is important. Even then, we must intend to give with care and relationally instead of from obligation or guilt.

REVERSE CULTURE SHOCK

            When I got home from Uganda, I felt as though I had been stripped down. Everything I thought I once knew was wrong. Everything I learned in my time there was impossible to explain. I was afraid to talk to the people who loved and supported me on my trip because I didn’t want to offend anyone. I know many people who have attempted to share Christ’s teachings to the world in a culturally-ignorant way. I have been one of those people. I apologize if you are reading this and I have hardened your heart from spirituality in any way. I apologize if you aren’t reading this and I have done so.

            Right before my stay in Africa, both Michael Brown and Eric Garner were killed at the hands of law enforcement. It didn’t hit me until I returned how much these events effected my time there. I became overwhelmed with my race and constantly aware of my ivory skin. I walked on the city streets repeatedly questioning, “who are the bad guys?” and “who are the good guys?” I built up a wall of defense around myself so that I was ready when commentary from passing Ugandans poked at my features and tried to start conversation with me, assuming they knew what kind of woman I was based on the images they have seen of white women in media. When I would see other white people in public, I would feel compelled to nod an affirmation saying “I understand”. What I didn’t realize is that I would return to Texas with a greater understanding of what my black brothers and sisters endure daily. In 1897, an extremely brilliant man named W.E.B Du Bois coined the term “double-consciousness” to explain the act of dividing one’s identity into different facades. He stated “It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self though the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity… He simply wishes to make it possible for a man to be both a Negro and an American without being cursed and spit upon by his fellows, without having the doors of opportunity closed roughly in his face.” I experienced this double-consciousness walking the streets of Uganda (albeit not to the extent that many Black Americans do) and upon my return, I related to my friends' struggles to assimilate while still remaining a rich individual. There is a constant struggle to let down the walls you have built without the fear of them tumbling on top of your already anxious soul.

            My writing here is neither political, nor is it unsupportive of any particular people group. It is to say that I learned compassion more than anything else in Uganda. I learned to hurt when the people I love are hurting, regardless of their uniform’s color. Everyday we encounter walls with people struggling behind them. My hope is that we might be strong enough relationally to break those walls down.

NEW ADVENTURES

            From time I returned to this past summer, I have been wrestling with my future. For some time I was applying for various worship leader positions at Houston churches. I have been leading part time with The Element at St. Peters UMC, working at a bookstore to save money, and struggling to feel content with my mind's direction. This past June, a team from St. Lukes United Methodist Church took a week long trip to support GO ministries in the Dominican Republic and I was presented with the opportunity to go with them and lead worship daily for the team.

            Due to my latest trip, the opportunity initially frightened me to the point that I almost didn’t go. However, I decided after much prayer and thought that I should embrace the adventure. The morning that I left for the DR I received a call from a church I had recently interviewed with. It was a job I was really hoping to take part in. They told me that they found someone else for the position largely due to the fact that the candidate had plenty of prior experience in the role. I understood, but I was upset. The whole week I was struggling with the loss of what, in my mind, I had created as my future. I continued to wonder where the path I was following was leading.

            The Dominican Republic was beautiful. The people were friendly and helpful, yet relaxed and laid back. The culture moves slowly and strives for greater things. GO Ministries has built many strong relationships with local leaders on the island in order to help them grow in their service to God and their community. They don’t step in and direct, but instead partner with the locals, using prior experience and education to guide the Dominican community toward a successful future. During the trip, I started to feel unrealistically comfortable in my environment. I was playing music and singing with local Dominicans, I was learning about people and a lifestyle I knew nothing about, and I was no longer afraid of whatever my future held. At the end of the week, multiple people on the trip began to tell me that I looked extremely comfortable in the Dominican culture and that maybe I should think about staying longer. I talked with some of the local leaders about the idea and we have decided that I will return from January to April of this coming year for an internship.

            As you can imagine, I’m quite nervous that my struggles in Uganda will reoccur in the DR. I’m afraid I will spend my whole trip fighting anxiety and culture shock and miss out on the beautiful adventures to be taken hold of.

           

THE IMPENDING FUTURE

            Since my trip to the Dominican Republic, I have been making lists and plans trying to figure out how to make all my big ideas happen. I moved back in with my parents to save money and began an internship with The Element at St. Peters to continue to gain experience in the general direction I feel headed. That direction has slowly shifted though, and I’ve decided to attend seminary and get a Masters of Divinity when I return from the DR.

            The idea of seminary has attracted me since I was in junior high. I know that a handful of you who read my blog posts don’t understand this drive due to the fallen and crooked state of many churches, but for strange reason I love the church however broken it may be. I have seen it build strong and open communities and help people get to and from dreaded doctors appointments. I have seen it embrace and build lasting friendships with the special needs community. The church has led me pursue healing and guidance in my anxiety, it has supported my artistic expression and writing, and it has given me a community of understanding people to go to when God feels dead inside of me. The church is broken, but it has so much potential. My eventual hope is to work to develop short-term and long-term mission trips so that they build up communities and cultures instead of harming them. I desire to work to expand the worship arts (whether it be music, photography, painting, writing) and help prevent the disintegration of local artistry. Simply, I desire that God would continue what he started when he created waterfalls and birds and sunsets and babies and NASCAR drivers and mystics and scientists and all the unknown creatures beneath the sea. Perhaps I’m an idealist, but it has worked for me so far.

That being said, for all of this to happen, for me not to back out too soon before I sense a coming comfort, for lives to be loved and churches to be changed, I’m going to need the support of anyone who has read to this point. I’m in need of prayer. I will try to sit down this week and make a list of specific anxieties that I feel I need to overcome. I will post them here and I ask that if you feel led to pray or encourage me in any of those ways, that you would not only pray but let me know you’re praying. I’d love to return the favor. If you feel specifically led to help by supporting me financially please get in touch with me personally through facebook (I’d really rather not come back from the DR completely broke but I am ready to do so). Please don’t give financially unless you are truly feeling led in that direction. Lastly, If you would like to support me and those options don’t suit your fancy, please don’t refrain from commenting/sharing. Ask questions about the journey I’m on and start conversations with me. Keep me thinking and working toward something important. I hope the “somethings” you’re working toward are important too.

I can’t begin to put into words how much I value each of you for taking the time to read this and for being interested.

You are my church.

You are a crucial member in making change.

Your own adventure awaits, whatever it may be.