“Have faith and God will be with you.” 

I remember when Pat said this quote to us during our community retreat in February. It has resonated with me because faith was something that I had taken for granted in the past. This quote exemplifies my current experience as an AV serving in Lawrence. A year ago, if you asked me how I felt about spending my volunteer year in Lawrence, I would have told you how devastated and upset I was. At the time, I felt I already spent enough time in Massachusetts and was in dire need of a new change of scenery. I can tell you now that it was honestly the best decision made for me because I have a great community and an incredible service site. 

I am currently working at St. Augustine School in Andover, MA. It is a parochial school starting from nursery all the way to 8^th grade. As the school’s Student Advancement Coordinator, my primary responsibilities include assisting the third grade classes during reading and math, working at Extended Day, the after school program, and acting as a substitute when needed. I have subbed every grade and all the specials: art, music, and gym. Every day is usually different, and I love it because I have the opportunity to expose myself to all the grades. However, kindergarten is definitely my favorite grade. I spend the most time down there because the kindergartners are adorable and they always brighten up my day. The teachers and their aides are so wonderful because they have become my closest friends and I have become their “adopted daughter.” At St. Augustine, I have the pleasure of working at a school that embodies this family-oriented community. All the faculty and staff have been so kind and welcoming during the course of my year. It makes me sad to think that my time is almost over. 

The most challenging part of my year was trying to rebuild and strengthen my faith. With the help of my community, as well as my experiences at St. Augustine, I recognize a progression in my spirituality. My community has taught me and challenged me to open myself up more with them and my faith. When we started the program, my relationship with God or faith was insecure. However, each of my community members were established and felt confident about their faith. Their positive influence has inspired me to become vulnerable and willing to mend my spirituality. My experience at my service site has allowed me to see God’s presence through the students and faculty at St. Augustine. My spirituality has grown significantly and I have learned to have faith in God because he is always with me.

Alissa Fallesgon

Lawrence, MA 2011-2012

There are days when the kids drive me crazy.

I’m a full-time teacher at St. Leo Primary School in rural South Africa and, while I love my job, I have to admit that there are days when I don’t. There are many issues to confront when teaching English to those who barely speak a word but the most difficult has been bridging the uncertain waters of the culture gap. I come from a family that recognizes the importance of education and a society whose school system enforces the structure and discipline needed to ensure that educational goals are met. The transition to a remarkably different culture – one in which any structure is an exception to the rule and in which parents disagree on the value of any Western education at all – has been tough.

In the beginning I was frustrated with myself for not getting through to the students. That feeling subsided, giving way to a weariness with my classes for simply not “getting it”. The third phase of my blame assignment focused on the teachers with whom I worked. Working, I decided, was an English word they had not yet understood. I found it difficult to make a steady lesson plan because each week brought a new excuse to close the school. From union strikes, to state department visits, to memorial services for distant teachers neither named nor met, school was closed for business. Volunteers have a reputation for landing at a site with dreams of remaking the culture in their image. How quickly reality can awaken even the most ambitious dreamers.

I realized very soon in my service year that I would receive very little help from the teaching staff at St. Leo: a curriculum was nowhere to be found; a schedule and class list were nonexistent; and all too often my morning drive would end in a U-turn at the closed doors of a school whose students’ potential was being strangled by a culture born out of a struggle not to learn and achieve, but simply to exist.

And there’s the point: I am inextricably bound to my native culture as the Zulus are to theirs. I have arrogantly walked through the doors of a school and concluded the staff was lazy. I have been frustrated by students who fail to study or do homework. I have questioned why no one here seems to care in the same exact way I do. And now, though it took me far too long, I have realized the bitter shame in judging another person whose culture I never took the time to truly understand. The Zulus are a people who lived for too long under an apartheid system that subjugated the tribal religions, cultures, and social order they regarded with honor. The oppressive Bantu education system was an important tool in apartheid tyranny.

The cycle that began in these schools continues. Those that I teach with were at one point students of apartheid. It’s no wonder they don’t share my enthusiasm for educational development. But some of my students will grow up to be teachers themselves. It’s in this dream that I can help shape a new reality. At St Leo, I’m fortunate to spend every day with these children who are willing to teach me the importance of educating myself before trying to bridge the culture gap alone. Call me crazy, but I wouldn’t trade these days for the world.

Matthew Rigsby

South Africa 2012

Last Monday I started working at CEO Betania, an empowerment center in Chulucanas. Although I really enjoy teaching and computers, I dreaded going back after day one. I had 23 students in my class and was scheduled to teach 3 hours every day Monday through Friday. During the first class, I noticed some students knew a lot and expected to learn “theory” and for me to “dictate”. I could not help but worry and stress thinking I had no clue about computer theory or what I would dictate to them. I stared at a book with the parts of the computer and stressed even more thinking I was completely unqualified for this position.

On the first day of class, I had asked each of them to write on a piece of paper their previous experience with computers and why they were taking that class/what they wanted to learn. I took a glance at it after class, but as my stress grew, I could only think about how impossible this would be, how I wasn’t prepared to do such job, and how these students deserved a better teacher. 

On the second day, I asked how many were coming from outside of Chulucanas, and 13 raised their hands. Later during the break, I sat down with a group of students and learned that one of them traveled 25 minutes only to come to my class. She works on the field and this was her only way of continuing her studies. So that night, I went back and read their papers more carefully. Only 6 had a well-rounded computer experience, but 17 wrote none and/or that this was their first time learning. And most wrote to have a better future or be a better person as to why they were taking that class, something I wasn’t expecting.

I then realized what I had in front of me and the potential of this class. I began to think what taking this class meant for many of them, learning about something that could give them a better future. Their parents may not afford to send them somewhere else to a University, but they are doing their greatest effort to continue learning and progressing. 

As I was preparing for my third class, I became fascinated by how bites work, and remembered how much I like technology and how I truly find it fascinating. Later on that day I loved telling my students the difference between Kb, Mb, Gb, and Tb and had a great time in class. I was able to see how I’m making a direct impact on their lives by sharing with them something I believe is one of humanity’s best advancement. 

My first challenge as an AV was believing I was capable of doing my job. God put me here and I didn’t think I was good enough for it. The last line of the commitment statement I wrote before coming here says: “…and above all to trust God at all times”. Now, I realize I didn’t trust myself and I didn’t trust God. He knows I am capable of teaching and giving those students what they need. The answer to all of my stress (and probably all of my worries in general) was sitting in front of my bed all the time “trust God at all times”.

Cynthia Pompa

Chulucanas, Peru 2012

Life is a matter of choices.

While living in San Diego, the choices that we are given as Augustinian Volunteers are both easy and hard. I have the choice to surf or swim; I have the choice to wear shorts or pants. But most importantly, I have the choice to accept God or deny Him.

If your personal relationship with God needs work, it is easy for you to deny Him. While working at a K-8 school, energy and patience are required for you to fully accept God. A rambunctious first grader isn’t listening, a child who is upset from being called a name, a class that never pays attention or follows directions; these are all possible reasons to have your faith tested.

Rejuvenate. That is the word that I use to think of when I thought of my relationship with God. I always got glimpses of Him in my encounters. Times when I needed Him most I would make sure to watch a beautiful sunset, look at the lights from a Tijuana hill or visit Mount Soledad for a beautiful 360 degree view of San Diego. After the realization that sporadic encounters are simply not enough, I had to reevaluate my relationship with Him.

I had to make a full-hearted effort to wake up and say today is mine, but I am giving it to God. By fully accepting Him each day in my life, I would not get frustrated when the kids were, I would not over-analyze to a child’s pain when he got made fun of, I would not get too mad if they weren’t listening and just take a step back. Because I made this promise to God, I began to see a huge difference in my daily faith life. Instead of seeing the negative, I saw the kid who wasn’t listening -doing a funny dance, I saw the child who usually got upset -having an increase in confidence, I heard the class who was usually loud -get excited at the beginning of each period when I walked into their classroom.

I realized that the PE blacktop was not only a ground for the students to partake in a special part of their day, but for me to see God in different ways. Each and every day I enjoy going to school because I can see the face of God in a smile, a laugh, a cry, or a nagging child. They have helped me grow in spirituality by showing me that faith is not simply what you want it to be, but also what you make it.

God’s love can be felt in every breath you take and every ray of sun (or snowflake) you feel. I have begun to see each day as a prayer itself. To make sure I am living with intent and being aware of God’s presence in the simplest of moments. But most importantly, living the way God would want me to live.

Jeannine Colloton

San Diego, CA 2011-2012

Working in a homeless shelter in the Bronx, NY comes with its fair share of challenges. I love working at Siena House, a transitional housing shelter for young women who are pregnant or have a child under the age of three, but some days can be pretty discouraging. It’s difficult to watch these women try to navigate the homeless shelter system. They can easily fall through the cracks and become just another statistic. Sometimes it is their own doing, sometimes the system fails them, but in any case, it is hard to see day after day. Many of the women come from broken homes, abusive relationships, and other miserable circumstances. They have been failed in so many ways in their life already, so it’s difficult to watch them struggle for the seemingly standard things I have always had in mine – food, shelter, stability, and supportive friends and family. And what is most unfortunate is that in many ways, these women are their own worst enemies. Often, the residents cannot maintain jobs or finish a G.E.D. program because of the impermanence of their living situation and their lack of education, work ethic, and sense of responsibility. These poor habits and low expectations of themselves and others are usually the result of a tumultuous upbringing and lack of support from family and friend; and the government systems that are in place to help do not seem to be effective. On top of all this, these women have infants and toddlers to raise in a generally unstable environment. Some days, it can all seem a little hopeless. 

Luckily, most days can actually be really great. Despite the ongoing frustrations, Siena House is a beneficial place for the women and children to live. The house staff and case workers are from the neighborhood and are perfect examples of people working hard day in and day out to make a life for themselves. Employees at Siena House do not have easy or glamorous jobs, but they remain positive, supportive, and helpful to the women, even when they do not get the appreciation they deserve. I feel lucky to be the Activities Coordinator at Siena House because I get to do a little bit of everything. I have been able to help with many aspects of Siena House and experience some of the responsibilities of each staff member; I can see how hard everyone works to keep Siena House nice and to keep the residents moving forward. Knowing what the directors and case managers deal with, I am grateful that I am not in a position of authority with regards to the residents. Because of my unique position, I am able to get to know the women and their children and become more of a friend--it seems easier for the women to listen to a peer. I'm happy to help make resumes, plan educational workshops, or aide the women with job searches. It's fun to meet the residents and over time discover their personalities, talents, and interests, because in many ways, it is easy to see them as just another case number. I also think my position is great because I get to make the house a little more like a home. I throw holiday and birthday parties and am able to plan fun activities like baking or arts and crafts for the women. I understand my task here as being with these women in the most human way possible--simply living with them--which is unfortunately missing in so many other parts of their lives.

Siena House works hard to help and support its residents and it's not always apparent if it actually makes a difference. I think that when everyone does their part, though, it does all add up. More often than not, former residents will call or write to express their gratitude for how Siena House helped them and their children. In a world full of governmental agencies, this gratitude is a wonderful thing to witness. Siena House truly helps these women, even if small, seemingly unapparent ways. While agencies promise big changes, Siena house is here doing its very best to be with these women in a human way, never treating them or their children as numbers or statistics, and in that lies the most hope of all.

Rebekah Coleman

Bronx, NY 2011-2012

Kairos is supposed to bring you closer to your own self and to God and get you to treat each other the way Jesus would treat us. So when one of the guys steals another kid’s notebook, in which the kid wrote a letter to his dead father because it brought him comfort, and then berates that kid that he’s crying about losing something stupid, you question the retreat’s whole process. And by questioning the whole process, you question God’s presence on the retreat. But then you see what happens after, the whole rest of the group rallying behind that kid and telling him, “we will find your notebook.” And then they go and find it. And one of the cool guys stands up to that other cool guy who called the boy a whiner, and says, “I don’t care if it’s just a notebook, it was important to him.” You see God in that person who stood up for the other. You see God in those boys who stopped being tough and cool and started being someone. And you see it in all those other troubled boys who needed this retreat for guidance. They were the ones who began living up God’s image. That’s how my spirituality has grown. It’s grown from one kid who has had a history of struggles coming up to me at the end of the last retreat, giving me a hug, and saying, “thank you.” Kairos is much deeper than just being away from school and sharing your feelings. It focuses on opening yourself up to God, and when that happens, God really does work miracles. Miracles are people being an example for each other. For all the negative things I hear about the students at my school, when it comes down to it, they really do care about each other. Every day at school something good happens. The guys make me happy. My favorite part of the day is standing in the hallway in between classes. And I especially like seeing at school those guys I had on Kairos, for they show that going away for 4 days is worth it. Through my relationships with them, I’ve been able to be a part of God’s work in the world.

Daniel Madden

Chicago, IL 2011-2012

Community. The word initially brought to mind vague images of a town, a church, an organization. It now brings to mind the faces of my five community members, the faces of the greater Augustinian Volunteer network, and the faces of each person we’ve served. I now define community as a support system of love.

Our community of six eats together four to five nights per week. In addition, we formally pray together two nights each week. Meals and prayer provide ample opportunity for each of us to share stories and triumphs. Each gathering also enables us to seek advice on daily challenges.

I work at Hogar Infantil La Gloria—a full-time home for neglected, abused, and orphaned children on the outskirts of Tijuana, Mexico. My job is twofold: 1) Assisting in fundraising, accounting, and administrative efforts & 2) Working directly with the children at Hogar. Working with the children has been a blessing, for I have truly come to love the kids as if they’re part of my own family. I have to admit, though, that I struggled upon arriving at my worksite. It was clear that mornings would be spent in the baby room, while afternoons would be spent aiding the older children with homework. I am a very goal-oriented person, however, and I had trouble grasping the importance of my role and what I’d actually achieve by showing up each day. My community didn’t allow me to fall prey to my frustration.

In fact, each member of my San Diego AV community contributed to the clarity I gained regarding my role this year. A member of my community shared with me the words of Teresa de Avila,

Christ has no body now on earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours.

It’s difficult for anyone to fully grasp the idea of a children’s home. The grounds often appear as any schoolyard does at recess. Children run happily and freely about with few cares. My community reminded me, though, that these children aren’t able to go home at day’s end to receive personal attention from family. My role was starting to make sense.  I needed to find triumph in the small victories each day. Each time a child reaches for my hand, laughs with me, or hugs me—We’re winning together. We’re controlling those things that are within our control and overcoming a situation that could be looked at as unfortunate. It’s my role to love the kids as I love my family—as I love my community. Each child wants a hand to hold, a smile to brighten the day, a friendly hug that shows I care. Sometimes you need a community to point out the obvious, and I thank God for mine.

Paddy Welde
San Diego 2011-2012

Recently, my wife and I were walking around a Costco in San Diego, and to our amazement the store was bombarded with everything Christmas. It seems like every year Christmas décor and bargain sales start earlier than the previous year, and because of that Advent becomes one of the most underrated seasons in the life of the Church. That’s a pity because the importance of Advent calls us to focus our intentions and actions in order to prepare for and celebrate His coming at Christmas and beyond.

The season of Advent marks a key moment in the life of the Church. Advent begins the Church’s year and marks the period when we begin to look forward to the coming of Christ once more in our lives. This impending visit by Jesus invites us to take seriously the call by Isaiah to “prepare the way” by reflecting on the past, praying in the present, and hoping for the future. Life as an Augustinian Volunteer calls all of us to participate in that preparation in real ways. And so, I would like to take some time and reflect on the ways in which we have prepared ourselves for what we have already experienced, as well as what is to come in the remaining months of the volunteer year.

Prepare your mind. Even before arriving to AV orientation, you have been preparing for this volunteer year. Whether that is at a logistical, emotional, mental, or spiritual level, preparation was vital for your arrival. You left your family, friends, and comfort zone to embark on an adventure open to mystery. Your life has led you to this point. The choices you have made, the prayers you have prayed, and your trust in God has called each and every one of you to where you are. This preparation is crucial to the life of the Augustinian Volunteer because through it, each volunteer commits himself/herself to the mission of the program fully. But your preparation doesn’t stop there.

Prepare your heart. Besides the logistical and psychological preparation, there is also a need for a preparation of your heart. Jesus meets us where we are and that is most commonly in the people we interact with on a daily basis. Thus, by living as an Augustinian Volunteer you are embodying the preparation needed for Christmas.  Jesus is in your community members, He is in your co-workers, He is in the friars, He is in your neighbor. And because of that, the heart needs time to prepare for all that will be experienced. You have already had great experiences of joy as well as challenges, and these will continue throughout the year. What is important is how we receive these experiences. Is your heart open to where God is leading you? Advent calls us to embark on this road of preparation in order that we may see Christ in others and welcome them into our heart. And yet, there is still more preparation needed.

Prepare your spirit. By preparing your mind and heart, you have allowed yourself to take seriously the call as an Augustinian Volunteer to live faith-filled lives in community and for others. But all of this aims at something more: growing intimately closer to God and bringing others with you. If all we did was show up and serve, that would be great, but being an Augustinian Volunteer calls us to take that experience and use it to grow closer in our faith, hope, and love. In preparing our spirit for Christmas, we acknowledge that in order to give to others what we have, we also need to refresh ourselves with the presence of God. It is our constant prayer for our community that roots us in the hope that Christ’s coming will transform the world in a real way.

And so, this season of Advent I invite you to live the season out in its entirety. Allow this time to continue to form and prepare you for Jesus’ coming. Christmas will come soon enough, but Advent grants us the grace and time to become receptive to all that God has to offer us: faith, hope, and love.

Andrew McMillin

AV Alum, Lawrence 07-08

The blessings and challenges of this year have each taught me a new lesson about the human condition. Many of these are products of my responsibilities in Merrimack’s Campus Ministry, but the most notable are found in simple, every day behaviors. Specifically, I find that engaging in conversation is the most human activity in which we can partake. It is an art form in its own right. In many ways, conversations have generated some of the greatest joys at my service sites. In others, they are the source of my greatest challenges. I have conversations with my colleagues, Merrimack students, people I work with at our weekly service sites, my community members, and complete strangers, but their value is always the same. It is immeasurable.

At 58 Newbury Street in Lawrence, Massachusetts, visitors are greeted at the door by a sense of home. Bread & Roses is a restaurant style soup kitchen that serves those who are most in need in our community. In this intimate setting, the dining room prays before every meal to show thanks for the day God has given us. Plates are then brought from the assembly line in the kitchen to hungry hands and hearts. Through my service there, I have come to know Bread & Roses as a place where bodies are nourished, friends are made, and human dignity is restored.

At dinnertime, I see both old and new faces. There are two faces in particular, however, that I anticipate every Tuesday around 6:30pm. Two brothers, Frenchie and Lionel, have been my companions at Bread & Roses since my first week. As soon as I see them walk in, I am overjoyed. My first instinct is to drop what I am doing, but my responsibility to the kitchen paralyzes me. Instead, I raise my voice to them from where I stand and I am always greeted with a smile. Their presence draws me to sit with them because I find consolation in sharing a conversation. Whether it is about their father who recently passed away or about our favorite kinds of movies, I feel most like myself when I’m hanging out with them.

In many ways, these conversations have reminded me of the value of telling one’s story because the truth is a very powerful tool. Not only does the story-teller feel a burden taken from them in sharing, but the one listening is changed by the human emotion of the story. It is impossible not to feel the freeness that is inherent to the truth.

Of the biblical sisters Mary and Martha, I think Mary really had it right. In taking on her attitude, I find myself drawn closer to God. My conversations with others have a direct impact on my spirituality. The sensitivity and self-awareness that this requires is not an easy practice, but it is worth the effort. As I continue to embrace the blessings and challenges of my volunteer year, I look forward to the rest of my Tuesdays with Frenchie and Lionel.

Meg Costantini

Lawrence, MA 2011-2012

Rejoice.  Rejoice in poverty for it is all around.  Rejoice in homelessness for many are without shelter.  Rejoice in death for some are left orphaned.  Rejoice in AIDS for it causes great suffering.  The 2^nd reading tells us  “Rejoice always.”

When some people see poverty they see laziness; when they see a homeless man they see a drunk; when they see AIDS they see irresponsibility.  As an AV, past or present, our eyes have been opened.  God has given us the gift to see beyond the stereotypes and unveil the mask of poverty, homelessness, death, AIDS; and sitting behind the injustice and sorrow is a man, a woman, a child, a human being.  That God has chosen you, just as he chose John to baptize, is something to rejoice in.  He has handpicked you to be an instrument of His love.  Do not take despair in what is not present (food, shelter, health), but rather rejoice in what is present: You, and your student, client, co-worker, patient, or friend.  Rejoice in the relationships and bonds that have formed; rejoice that you are willing and capable of sharing stories, laughter, tears, hugs, hands, of sharing your love with another.

Sure, it’s a daunting task to feel all happy and glad when constantly faced with situations we can’t understand, but we must look a little deeper and open our eyes a little wider.  

And so “Rejoice always:” in the opportunity to help a hungry child read or have a conversation with a struggling mother of three; in sharing a meal with a lonely stranger; in a life lived and a soul that becomes an angel; in unwavering faith and hope despite desperate situations.  And do not stop rejoicing; and do not keep the soul-filled moments of rejoicing to yourself.  For your eyes have been opened, but many are still blind.  What a blessing it is to have the responsibility granted by God to reach out, take the hand of someone who does not see behind the mask of injustice and show them what it means to rejoice in the goodness of humanity of all God’s precious people.  This Advent and always, Rejoice.

Mary Dillon

AV Alum, Lawrence 04-05, South Africa 05-07