I stumbled across a file with notes from one of my first days in the Jesuit Residence in Portland. It struck me in two ways: first I noticed that Dad had recommended an article about food stamps. At that time, I could not conceive myself as ever needing them...now I rely on them as a means to secure a healthy diet. Second, it began to dawn on me what a shift of ethos I now know in contrast to the sense of order I once had.
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No, not always have I lived this way: where I am "host" here at this Catholic Worker while upstairs my elder, and better, is the "guest".
Where I lived before the walls did not show a picture of the fallen Dr. MLK Jr on April 4th, 1968, or Dorothy Day seated framed by two gips strapped with holstered guns--a picture matched by a quote, "Our problems stem from our acceptance of this filthy, rotten system"--nor could I learn from the walls to make art not war, or facts like Sayf Bin Abdullah/cleared for release...that humanitarian aid is never a crime...and military spending accounts for 59% of the budget.
Where I lived, many black and white portraits of Inuit were hung: a masked dancer, spear ready seal hunter, the sage elder and others. The photographer could not publish because of allegations against him that would never see the light of trial.
Where I lived not all the community members knew that the housekeeper, Jim, wasn't doing them a favor by cleaning their individual bathrooms for them. The worst disturbance to find was a dishwasher still unloaded, for everything had its place. Here you can find Karen Labacqz' Six Theories of Justice on two different book shelves. Here ladies' under garments hang to dry in the kitchen. A converted bookshelf is painted with a manifesto to Our Lady of the Dumpster with decrees about a Gift Market. Items deposited on the shelf are free for the taking; Bikes corralled aside the staircase suggest themselves.
There a wine was available with every dinner, the custom inherited from Turin predecessors. Here we have no 'pre-prandials' chosen from the glass cabinet or the fridge stocked with soft drinks and micro-brews. And though I can pop open a left over can of "the champagne of beers," I can't help but contend with the fact my ebt (or food stamps) will not purchase me alcohol.
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1.03.10
8:30 rose with knock from Isidro. Gave him a ride to the bus/train depot.
9:00 help from Jim for bus tickets
10:00 Andy & Teresa's son Daniel James baptized at Downtown Chapel. A joy seeing Rosy, Frs. Ron and Bob, the JVC member Garrett, and the urban plungers from the great Notre Dame, as well as Julie and Bernie.
11:00 walk home with Peter [my superior]. Talk of my exit from the good Gonzaga Prep. Transition here will mean working with 5 generations, the restless spirit, learning from example of the Trappists to be empty consciously: to be aware of my frenetic need to disconnect from my feeling, and discover generosity in unexpected ways.
3:30 writing to Bernie, Colette, Mom about the meeting with Colette.
4:00 writing emails to Matt Pyrc, Greg Vance, Dad. Saw dad’s photo of the New Years game of Frisbee. Read the article he sent of food stamps that was in the NYT. Also
4:15 walk with Phil. He tells me of the guys, their personas... and needs.
5:15 Prayer with a few of us in Chapel. Song, quiet meditation communal evening prayer ordo.
5:50 social
6:00 dinner
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"The Safety Net--Food Stamp Use Soars, and Stigma Fades." http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/29/us/29foodstamps.html
"The Safety Net--Living on Nothing but Food Stamps." http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/03/us/03foodstamps.html
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