More Violence in Oakland.

For the second time this year violence in Oakland has made national news. Last Saturday, after a routine traffic stop three officers were shot and killed along with a fourth later declared brain-dead.

In the words of Yogi Berra: it’s like déjà vu all over again. There is a definite pattern in Oakland where something tragic occurs and the Mayor, Ron Dellums, or another leader talks about the need for change.

"In these moments, words are extraordinarily inadequate," Oakland Mayor Ron Dellums told reporters at a news conference Saturday night at Oakland police headquarters. "We come together in shock, in grief, in sadness and sorrow. Our hearts go out to the officers' families who are experiencing a level of tragedy that goes beyond our ability to comprehend."

"These folks leave their homes in the morning, with every expectation of returning," Dellums said, "but they did not."

Several of the articles touched on the fact that there’s a growing sense of hopelessness. People are aware that change is necessary—it’s the buzzword that sold millions of Obama t-shirts—but like all hollow rhetoric, it’s starting to lose its meaning.

I don’t know what needs to be done, either. I don’t think anyone does. I look around at all of the empty buildings in Oakland and wonder if there’s any realistic solution. Even the Tribune building, with its neon red sign that shines brightest above Downtown Oakland, is boarded up.

Last Thursday I watched an episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon, Tina Fey’s character, is dating a guy who has an inflated sense of self due to everyone around him catering to his every need and letting him win because he happens to be really good-looking. They refer to this as “living in the bubble.” Liz also falls into thie trap, but eventually she realizes she can’t continue to be dishonest with this guy. After pointing out several of his shortcomings, the guy becomes extremely frustrated and throws a fit. Eventually he apologizes to Liz and tells her she should come and live in the bubble with him. He confesses to Liz that it’s ironic how much he hated life outside of the bubble. Liz points out that it’s not ironic at all. He laughs and says that he likes the bubble because he can use word ironic however he pleases.

While I was watching that episode the signal kept coming in and out as a helicopter flew atop our apartment building. It turned out that a small convenience store about two blocks from our apartment was held up at gunpoint. The clerk and two customers were shot, but managed to tackle and subdue one of the gunmen.

That’s a little closer than I like my violence to occur.

It made me think of other bubbles in our lives, and one of those is distance, both physical and emotional, from the problems of the most marginalized in society.

One of the JVC houses is located in Berkeley, but they don’t work in Berkeley, most of them work in Oakland. Nothing against the people in that house and the work they do, but in some ways it seems to go against everything that JVC stands for. With that said, when I go over to Berkeley and I see college students, young couples pushing baby strollers, and old hippies in their diesel Mercedes, and a slew of Priuses parked along Shattuck Avenue outside of nice restaurants, I’m a little jealous. I’m able to let my guard down and relax.

I grew up in the suburbs, love the suburbs and will probably someday move back to the suburbs. However, I think it’s important to be aware of the luxuries and privileges we are afforded and often take for granted. When you watch the news and it becomes too graphic and violent you can change the channel, but when it happens down the street it’s harder to ignore.

At several points throughout this year living in Oakland has really started to annoy me and I've felt trapped, but at those times I’ve been able to get away, whether it’s been for a retreat or a visit to another JV house.  Though, I’m now starting to see the value in getting even a small sense of what it’s like for those who can’t escape the culture of violence and crime that pervades Oakland.



“Home is not where you live but where they understand you."

-Christian Morgenstern

B-i-n-g-o

Yesterday, I decided to sit in on the Thursday Bingo in the visitation center which is starting to draw a pretty good-sized crowd. Each week they pop popcorn and have a table of prizes ranging from soaps and lotions to dolls, underwear and razors. It’s fun to see how intense the competition gets for all of these fairly inexpensive prizes. My favorite winner was the guy who picked out a pair of pink slippers for his “lady.” After thinking about it for a little while, I realized it’s not about the prizes, but rather, it’s about a sense of accomplishment they receive from winning.

It made me think about the need to strike the delicate balance between necessary handouts and the ultimate goal of helping clients become self-sufficient. The clients as a whole at SVdP are certainly appreciative of the services they receive, but the pride and gratitude they have after helping themselves is on an entirely different level. It can be seen at the graduation for our transitional employees and the kitchen of champions. It can also be seen in the men’s center with the guys who like to earn their keep by sweeping up the floors or emptying the trash.

I guess the desire to be valued and capable is basic human nature. This week a guy who went through the December Homeless Court came in to thank me for my help and to let me know he’d recently found a job. It was a brief conversation, but it was genuine and true, and exactly what I needed to hear. Just when I start to question whether I’m doing any good at all, something like that seems to happen where I’m reminded that the work we do is indeed worthwhile.



"At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us." -Albert Schweitzer

March Madness

Today, six days into the month, I finally realized that it’s March, which of course signifies the arrival of everyone’s favorite season—no, not Lent—March Madness!

I think this is the surest proof that JVC, or at least the lack of money for cable, has had a significant impact on me. And while maybe I’m not “ruined,” there’s a good chance my bracket will be. Actually that’s probably not true, since the tournament no longer seems to have any rhyme or reason and picking winners based on mascots or uniform colors seems to be about as equally effective. Never the less, I normally pride myself on making informed selections, having usually watched at least one game from nearly every school in the dance, even the play-in game. I’m a junkie--my drug of choice is college basketball, that and the occasional highball.

Aside from the lack of cable, I’ve tuned out of this year’s college basketball season in part because my Hoosiers, with first-year coach Tom Crean, are in the midst of a historically bad year, currently sitting at 6-23. Though, we have a good recruiting class coming in, so I think we should be respectable next year and start to seriously compete in another year or two after that. And to all the haters, unless you’re Kentucky or UCLA we still have more championship banners hanging from the rafters (’40, 53, ’76, ’81, ’87). You might point out that it’s been over twenty years since we last won, and if you do the math you’ll realize that the vast majority of guys in this year’s tournament weren’t even born in 1987, but those are minor details…

I assume most of you (the four people who read this blog and aren’t related to me) are unaware of the events that led to this year’s disastrous season. Well, back in the year 2006 IU decided to hire a man by the name of Kelvin Sampson, who was already in trouble at his old school, Oklahoma, for making too many phone calls to recruits, but we hired him anyway. He promised that he’d follow the NCAA rules and do things the right way. To make a long story short, he brought in one NBA lottery-pick, a bunch of junior college thugs and a few other questionable recruits and also continued to make phone calls with reckless abandon.

Sampson knew how to coach, and his teams were relatively enjoyable to watch. Before he was forced to resign during last year’s season, the team cracked the top ten in rankings and was poised to capture a Big Ten championship, though there was always a nagging sense that we were doing things the wrong way. But despite it all, I continued to support Sampson and the team, because when it comes to sporting endeavors it’s always more fun to win than lose.

It’s not as if I supported Hitler and the Nazi party, but the two or three year ordeal has been a reminder and lesson in how easy it is to justify behavior that deep down you know is wrong.

I think there are many issues, especially related to social justice, where it’s easy to fall into similar thought patterns. It’s easier to say, “I’d never do drugs,” “they deserve to be homeless,” or “I’d never let my tickets spiral out of control,” than it is to address the root causes of the problems and the legal and social barriers that exist. That work is difficult, arduous, met with resistance and often painful. But at the end of the day, it’s the right thing to do and there is a certain reward in that alone.

Likewise, this season has been dreadful for the Hoosiers when judged by wins and losses, but not everything can be measured using results. Our team has been battered and bruised nearly beyond recognition, but they hustle and play with pride and our basketball program finally has its heart back, and in my opinion that counts for an awful lot.

Ash Wednesday

It has been a little while since I last wrote a blog. I think I’m running out of things to say, perhaps hitting the proverbial wall, which is probably natural in February at the midpoint of the JVC year.

This year so far has been simultaneously a blessing and a struggle filled with ups and downs. At times it’s easy for me to walk the streets of Oakland and wonder how things could be any worse and question whether I’m making any difference at all. This year hasn’t necessarily filled me with great optimism that things in Oakland will improve any time soon, but last Friday’s Homeless Court session held here at SVdP was a reaffirmation that my work here is meaningful. The thing I especially like about Homeless Court is that Judge Gordon Baranco isn’t looking for a grand apology or clients to grovel, only that they exhibit progress and a sincere understanding that it’s a one time chance to move forward with a clean slate.

As always my favorite part of the process is witnessing the spectrum of reactions the clients have after their charges and fines are dismissed, it ranges from one woman who fought back tears as she hugged her two-year-old son to the 21-year-old guy whose grin stretched from ear-to-ear as he bragged to me that his $5,000 in fines dismissed had been the most of anyone all day.


“You are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Another week at SVdP.

This week has been cold and a little wet and I’ve felt slightly under the weather, so I’ll keep this post short.

Yesterday we had over 40 participants in the Homeless Court come to St. Vincent de Paul to meet with public defender Diane Bellas in preparation for court this coming Friday. Essentially everyone was told to show up at 9:30 in the morning and it was a first come first serve process, so for some it was a very long day of waiting. But in general, all of the clients were extremely patient and thankful to be a part of the program. It was also a great chance to talk with the clients and hear their stories. Many told me about their past jail experiences, drug addiction, divorces, children and what ultimately led many of them to recovery and made them want to turn their lives around. I’ve written about it before, but I continue to be struck by the honesty that many of our clients exhibit when talking about their problems and struggles. I will admit that I’m still shocked by some of the things they tell me, but I’m always impressed with their truth and dignity, which are qualities we should all strive for.

This afternoon there was another graduation for the latest class of culinary students and transitional employees. It was great to see what the students had accomplished and to sample some of the delicious food they made for the final project, but I really had trouble believing that another six weeks had passed. This year is starting to pick up steam.

And now it’s time for a much needed three-day weekend…

Boom!

The serenity of retreat quickly came to a halt on Tuesday night after work when I decided to go for a jog around Lake Merritt. I put on shorts, a t-shirt, running shoes and had my iPod cued up, unfortunately I only made it about two-hundred feet to the parking lot before I noticed that one of my car windows had been smashed. It probably happened the night before--I recall hearing a sound very similar to my car alarm at around 11:30 that night, but I’m not for sure.

Obviously, a broken car window is fairly minor, and not anything to waste too much energy on, but none the less it was still enough to make me feel violated.

A week or so earlier our support people came over for dinner and we talked about the protests and riots in Oakland, and basically what one of them said is that the recent events hadn’t been a good thing, but that they proved we were working in the right area—a place that needs an infusion of young, educated people willing to work for change. I whole-heartedly agreed. But it’s always easier to witness poverty, injustice, crime, etc. from a distance, even a relatively close distance, than it is when it happens to you.

After cleaning up the glass from inside the car, and calling up my parents to figure out what I should do about insurance and getting it fixed, I talked to the Berkeley JVC house to see if I could drive it over there and crash for the night. They of course said I could, so I put a toothbrush in my backpack and grabbed my sleeping bag and hopped in the car only to discover that the car battery was drained as well. When it’s not your day, it’s not your day.

I headed back inside, ready to kick or punch something, but then I took a deep breath and I knocked on our neighbor’s door and she was generous enough to give me a jump and I headed to Berkeley where one of their neighbors let me park my car in their driveway. We ended up talking and had some tea and put on a movie, making the night about as pleasant as it could’ve been.

I took the car over to get fixed early Wednesday morning and I should have it back this afternoon, but I’ll be honest, on Tuesday night I felt like throwing in the towel and getting the heck out of Oakland. I’ll be honest again, I still kind of feel that way. But after a bit of time to calm down, I realized that it was an event that could’ve occurred anywhere and that I shouldn’t catastrophize the situation. Also, as much of this year has been, it was a reminder of how lucky I am to have a family and friends that care.


“Teach us to give and not to count the cost” -St. Ignatius of Loyola

Back from retreat.

I just got back to work today after spending parts of four days down at Camp St. Francis in Aptos. The camp was located right beside the beach, and there was a basketball hoop and a bunch of the guys organized a little tackle football game, which I’m still sore from. It was also a nice chance to relax and do a little reading. Unlike when we were there in August, the weather was clear the entire time, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a more spectacular sunset. Few things in life put things in perspective the way the Pacific Ocean can.

JVC brought in University of San Francisco professor Mike Duffy. He gave three talks on Catholic social thought. He was a really inspiring guy who has done tons immersion trips and work in the City as well as in third world nations, but what I especially liked was when he talked about how each person has to define for themselves their own meaning of social justice, that it’s a long an arduous process and that you have to take time out for yourself so you don’t burnout in one month, or six months or one year. The quote he used several times was from St. Ignatius of Loyola: “Go forth and set the world on fire.” And then he asked us all to contemplate what that would look like in our own lives.