Phlox & Zinnia

When I told my parents that I was thinking about sometimes taking the bus to Calvin, it ignited a larger conversation than I thought it would.


On Thursday night, I sat on a street corner for 20 minutes, waiting for the 15 bus and looking over my shoulder about every 5 seconds.


If you had asked me two years ago to name 5 streets in Grand Rapids, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. If you had asked me last year to name 5 streets in Grand Rapids, I probably would have struggled through it. Now, the names of Plainfield, Wealthy, Lake, Cherry, Diamond, Fuller, Fulton, Fountain, College, Monroe, Ottawa, Coit, College, Lafayette, Leonard, Spencer, Page, Quincy, and Buffalo all conjure pictures in my mind.


Two weeks ago [a month ago now], I was planning on carpooling to Calvin with my mentor Nic, who turned out to be heading in about an hour later than I was expecting. “Well,” I said to my other house mentor Linnea, “I guess I’m taking the bus.” After a Google maps search and a lunch box round-up, I was off.



***



I’ve had this Google Doc open in my browser for almost two weeks with four different openings written. I never keep anything open in my browser except for the big ol’ Johnson Recipe Google Drive folder and my Calvin Google Drive. I’m a chronic tab cleanser.



All I’ve talked about for the last couple weeks, besides school and midterms and honors thesis and how much I love PN/my coworkers/baking/housemates, has been the Rapid. During our highs and lows for this Monday’s meeting, I said “I just love taking the bus. It’s so fun.” This opinion was only a little shaken when yesterday I walked 10 minutes home in a steady rain and went to tutoring where my tutee said, “You look a little wet!”


I have practical reasons why I love the bus: it is cost-efficient in the sense that I’m not using gas, time-efficient in that I can do homework while I’m riding, and eco-efficient in that the gas is being used whether I’m on the bus or not. I have some not-so-practical reasons: I like having this sense of independence that comes from riding the bus; I like doing something that makes people think twice and then question why I would bother doubling my commute when I have a car; I like experiencing what people less privileged than I (and more privileged than I, I guess) face in their day-to-day life and understanding the frustration of inconsistent timing.




It’s made me think about the kind of helps we offer in a society and how interdependent we are on each other. In my education class, we watched this video of Judith Butler and Sunaura Taylor talking about disability in regular life, and Sunaura brought up this idea of helping people. For most abled people, the help we ask for is normalized. I gave the example in class of me asking my coworker Abena to grab a pencil that had rolled off the other desk of the desk. I was asking her to help me, but she didn’t balk at that request. But often when disabled people ask for help, it puts people off guard and breaks the script of normalized help.



What exactly does this have to do with my slightly headstrong decision to take the bus day in and day out? In this sense, a bus is a production of normalized help that people ask from other people—how to get from point A to point B. When that claim of help is broken, like say when the bus is 30 minutes late and it’s around 6:10 and you’re starting to wonder if you’ll make it to Calvin in time for your 7 o’clock work shift, people like, say, me, get frustrated. If I wanted to make the jump from philosophical to theological, I could talk about how me depending on the bus is kind of analogous to me depending on something out of my hands, which could mean depending on God or just depending on life to work out, but that analogy feels disingenuous. I’m not at that recognition of my level of dependence yet, and I’m not going to pretend like I am.



Right now, the bus is a place of choice for me. I find myself acting as an observer who is set apart from the other people on the bus because I don’t have to be on it. Despite touting this bus as a tool that has connected me more to the heart of Grand Rapids to anyone who will listen, I’m still sectioning myself off from it. But this distinction I fabricate is moot. I am just as dependent on the bus as the rest of the people bumping along with me as I travel from eastern Grand Rapids to northern Grand Rapids. Does this mean I’m going to talk to the people who are around me? Probably not (should I? Perhaps). Does this mean that I’m going to think of myself as being more integrated into the cycle of life that rolls around here? See myself as more of a resident than a college student, more of a transplant than a transient? Idealistic me is screaming yes and pumping her fists in every which way; cynical me is pushing up her glasses and giving idealistic the “are you done yet” teacher stare.



Recs
Article: “Internal Dialogue” by Katerina Parsons

I voted for this theme of writing only in dialogue for the post calvin because I thought it would be difficult, not because I thought someone would write something that hit me straight in the gut and poured my mind onto the page. Parsons does that in her reflections on what it means to be busy and attentive right at this second. And this one. And this one.


Website: “Future Me”
It’s a website where you can write a letter to yourself that will send in a year, 3 years, 5 years, or longer. A modern-day time capsule if you will.

As I write this, I am currently sitting in my living room. One of my housemates is sitting diagonally to me, browsing on his phone. Another is in her room, talking to a guy who she hopes to rekindle a friendship with. The others are elsewhere: one I know is at a night class, two may be upstairs doing homework, and I think my mentors are in for the night.

There’s not a lot of times this semester that I can sit and be. 3 out of 5 weeknights I have obligations on campus, and one (and often more) of the other nights I spend with my housemates. When I am on campus, I strive to do work in the RC (which happens maybe 60% of the time) so I do not have to do it when I get home. While I still have a home base on campus, it is in constant motion with coworkers changing shifts and clients coming in and classes coming up. As usual, hurry is an integral piece of my routines.


As a part of Project Neighborhood, there are a couple things I am required to do. One of them is to memorize the 5 pillars of PN—vibrant community, loving neighbors, committed sustainability, attention to the ordinary, and something (perhaps intentional? It was purposeful) discipleship—and some verse in Hebrews 11 I think. Another one is to walk through Richard Foster’s book Celebration of Discipline, which is apparently a famous Christian version of a self-help book (I know—it’s different and I shouldn’t be flippant, but I’m not that far off). We read as a house the first chapter yesterday about meditation and discussed it. The chapter and the insights of my housemates made me realize both the importance of setting aside time to meditate and to be close to God throughout my day. There was a moment in my capstone class where I disagreed with what some of the people at my table said, and I had that little fist squeezing the middle of my ribcage. May it be known, I did say some of what I thought, but I also remembered our conversation last night, took a moment to breathe, and lifted my spirit for a second.

Sometimes I wonder if I lay the Christian holiness aspect of me on too thick with some people. In my capstone class again, I think I cited more Bible verses (I just typed articles, so that should tell you something) in a 650-word response than in any other piece of writing that I’ve done. I want to say I’m continually striving to grow deeper in both my closeness to God and my part in his community on earth, but that’s not always true. Most of the time, I feel like I’m spinning my wheels. Let me get real with you.


I’m not sure I’ve ever explicitly told anyone this, but my goals in faith and my goals with my weight are often linked together in my mind. They are both things that feel immensely important and yet still so out of reach for me. I’m continually trying to inch in progress towards them, sometimes focusing more on one than the other, but it feels like I always slide back down to the bottom. I know that’s not true; I’ve been eating healthily and I’ve been listening to a daily praying podcast that has been super instructive for me in making God a piece of my routine.


I read the obesity article that has been circulating this morning, and I'm glad I did despite the obviously clickbait-y title. It brought up a lot of thoughts, but mostly that I spent my days in middle, high school, and even part of college in the mindset that my body was something to be focused on and fixed. It was only when I was able to take my food consumption fully into my own hands that I felt in control of my destiny and really took ownership of my body. If I decided to bake brownies, I put in the work for it and knew what I was getting into. But this control of food is a major privilege—that I had the money to buy the healthier not-as-processed food, that I had the time to cook it, and that I had the ease of cooking for 1 most of the time. I’m in a better place with my weight, but I still have the moments of thinking, “Are people judging me? Do I look more like this person or this person? I should go running.”


I guess all I’m saying is that life isn’t cut and dry. In my Teaching of Writing class, Professor Johnson told us how in college, students come in as black and white thinkers, become relativists, and then emerge committed to an ideal. In high school, a disappearing stomach and a falling apart Bible were my ideals, and if I wasn’t that I wasn’t enough. I see now that smaller steps and acknowledging failure, even celebrating it, is how people actually live life. I gained 10 pounds over the summer, but I celebrated every day with my family and had the strength to wrangle 30 5- and 6-year-olds every week. I still have not fully figured out how to bring meditation into my daily life, but I listen to Jesus music and Scripture readings as I shower and get ready for the day. For today, my strivings will do.




Recommendations:

Really, read that article. Here’s the quote that gets me:
“I don’t want to be portrayed [in a photograph]; this is not about me. It’s about that guy you always see on the far treadmill at the gym. Or the lady who brings the most beautiful salads to work every day for lunch. It’s about the little girl who got bullied because of her size, and the little boy who was told he wasn’t man enough. It’s not about me, but had it been about me when I was that chubby little girl, maybe I wouldn’t be standing here, head against the door, wondering if I’m enough.”


Blog - The Pursuit of Bravery “When We are All Finally Home”
I found John Lucas’s music buried in my 300 song playlist that I stick all the music I want to listen to eventually. In browsing his author page, I was struck by the EP Family X that he most recently put out to document “the overflow of his wrestlings with injustice—both historical and current—as a white, American, male.” I listened to his music (“Cathedrals” really is the best song, Spotify didn’t lie) and liked it, and then I found his blog. His writing toes the line I want to toe between personal stories and uncovering greater truths.


Podcast - Serial Season 3
Full disclaimer: I have not listened to this season yet but I know it is going to be so good. If you have any interest in injustice in the criminal justice system in America, you should listen to the first episode at least.


Book - Strange the Dreamer - Laini Taylor
Occasionally, as I’m browsing Twitter or Goodreads, something about Muse of Nightmares skips along my feed. I then throw my hands up and squeal, most often in the RC in front of Josh, who just shoots me a weird look. “I’m so excited for the sequel to Strange the Dreamer!” I say. Laini Taylor, who already owned my entire fantasy YA loving soul in her Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy, just had to outdo herself in Strange the Dreamer, which combines gods and racism and dreams all into one beautiful mess. The cliffhanger was killer, but unlike me, you’ll be reading it right before or right after the sequel comes out so you don’t have to wait two years in agony like me! You’re welcome.

So it’s been a bit.


In the past couple weeks, I’ve driven ~10 hours on highways from Massachusetts to Michigan, negotiated a completely new living situation with strangers, started classes, gone to a new church, figured out where I’m going to volunteer over the semester, and set all the deadlines for my honors thesis. Senior year is here with a force.

I was worried about what was going to happen with my writing here once school began. As you probably know, I’m a school-aholic. Once classes start, I’m either eating, sleeping, working in the RC, or doing homework. Of course I also do fun things with my friends and talk with my coworkers, but my expectation during the school year is that I have my nose to the grindstone every second. This means that all my intentions of working out or doing more daily devotions or chipping away at other projects goes right down the drain. Almost nothing can separate me from my drive to do school.


It’s been a little different than that this year. I’ve been less school focused so far. Perhaps it is because my living situation is more of a commitment than it has in past years. I actually have to schedule time to be with my housemates, but I’m also more committed to doing random hangouts with them. We went out to eat on Friday night at a Haitian place, which is something that I definitely wouldn’t have done on my own. But, I am still feeling a lot of pressure that I’m putting on myself. During freshman year, I took this strengthsfinder test that told me that, among other traits, I was an “Achiever.” There’s a little all-consuming fire inside me that demands me to complete things and if I don’t feed it, it starts to affect my mood and my mental strength. That’s what is happening right now.

This is my last year of traditional school where my job is to go to class and learn, and I’m trying to enjoy it. I know I’m going to miss my department, my professors, my classmates (the ones who I know, at least), my job, and the other random bits of Calvin, but I’m still in a pissy attitude about it. I could be all theological about it and talk about the “already not yet,” but honestly I just want out of the vicious circle of needing to be busy at every single turn of my life.


I guess my life update is my housemates are really great. I’ve already gotten to the point where I can blurt random things out to my roommates, and they roll with it. I keep telling people that doing Project Neighborhood (PN) is like being a freshman again but with much better coping skills. The RC is as great as ever, and I’m a little nervous about outing the new people because the staff is already so close, but it’ll work itself out. I’m already thinking about student teaching, and I keep hearing that I need to start networking and looking for jobs. I’m taking a Comp Sci class which is making me thankful I’m not a CS major and an Education class which I’m more excited about the course material (developing my philosophy of education) than my professor. My thesis is already encroaching severely on my life, but I’m hoping I get a lot of work doup frontont and then be able to focus on my other classes.


I don’t know how much this space will be updated. I still want to write, but my experiences become pretty monotonous during the semester. I guess we will see what happens from here.


Podcast Episode - “Episode 121 - Michel Foucault pt. 1” Philosophize This!
I listened to this episode while driving into Michigan and had a 12 year old moment of “Woah, this is so deep! I feel enlightened like no one else had before!” So if you want to feel smarter than everyone else about postmodern philosophy or if you want to think about power structures, listen to this episode. For real, it made me want to read some Foucault on my own and made me understand a tiny bit why people would want to major in philosophy.


If you are in college, use your college database to go read a cool research article in your field or browse the latest of a research journal. In my researching, I’ve read some really cool stuff, and it’s making me unhappy at the idea of losing this database access when I graduate.

Sarah Newell and a camper this summer taught me my biggest lesson: verbal affirmation is hugely successful with me. In that spirit, and in light of a few minor crisis this week, I'm sending you some good vibes.


Short version: I love you and support you. I'm praying for you and your loved ones.

A couple things. One, the second to last day of camp is way better than the last day of camp. Two, I didn't know a good concert could stick in your mind for so long. I’ve been stewing on this one for a week and my mind is a little all over the place, so I’m going to try splitting this into parts.