tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86730049285954147812024-03-14T04:19:12.111-05:00Hands For MissionGod has designed each part of who we are to accomplish His purposes, down to the very way our hands are shaped. I believe He formed mine to bring His name to all nations.Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.comBlogger210125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-32580745250980010192012-06-24T16:01:00.001-05:002012-06-24T16:01:19.813-05:00Nations<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In the past eight months I have been privileged to work with people/children (children are people too I guess) from the following countries. Who says cross-cultural ministry has to be overseas?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mexico</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Puerto Rico</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ecuador</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">El Salvador</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Colombia</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Peru</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nepal</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Laos</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Kenya</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Somalia</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tanzania</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I love my job! :)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-20821464734186751292012-06-17T14:21:00.001-05:002012-06-17T14:21:16.719-05:00More Than a Dream<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">A reflection on this new stage in my life.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">I have been writing about living my dream of settling in the Phillips neighborhood in Minneapolis almost since I started this blog. Before I graduated college I made plans to move into this multicultural area of town, and I had great plans for changing the world. And then God put me in a fifth grade classroom in Bolivia for a year. And I learned things about the world that I never would have known if I had jumped headfirst into inner-city life in the US. Bolivia was harder than I could have imagined, and I dreamed of the day that I would live in Minneapolis</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After a year volunteering in South America and a few months of commuting to a barista position from the suburbs, I landed a job and house in Phillips. The acquisitions came within a month of each other, and life since then has been one new experience after another.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfW2q2iiA8WLo5bfTKTL4dQAGgZBS1qbm_ZjADyhQckALGoUwVnDtAWUpoc9xEkZkUwbIVf3Ca9UCGKlFWWPooueCQ4Uf9xWXBhlhsY_aGxiNnRH_-ZrMZd-9Fb8oJGSGbKtETvFG7vU/s1600/phillips2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigfW2q2iiA8WLo5bfTKTL4dQAGgZBS1qbm_ZjADyhQckALGoUwVnDtAWUpoc9xEkZkUwbIVf3Ca9UCGKlFWWPooueCQ4Uf9xWXBhlhsY_aGxiNnRH_-ZrMZd-9Fb8oJGSGbKtETvFG7vU/s200/phillips2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I wore dress pants and a bright coral short sleeve dress shirt my first day working at the school in Phillips. Office staff, teachers, and principals all wore jeans. I thought I was quick because I caught a boy calling another girl a crybaby in Spanish, but failed to realize in my first months that the students I work with often go home to empty houses, parents working late at minimum wage jobs to provide for their families. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsz2F987taqV6yOXYWDQR0y5O_7xzmJJhVpTDEIgFwpXalRV_VmyqYnReEru8CSk7eB2H30JMZncroU15g0vNYIov1jdUNmA1ww3Oi1WhyD_PCQnMvx2Kd9dAvMWrQiNnguMwwSXx6SzM/s1600/phillips3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsz2F987taqV6yOXYWDQR0y5O_7xzmJJhVpTDEIgFwpXalRV_VmyqYnReEru8CSk7eB2H30JMZncroU15g0vNYIov1jdUNmA1ww3Oi1WhyD_PCQnMvx2Kd9dAvMWrQiNnguMwwSXx6SzM/s200/phillips3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And my new house? It took me several weeks to adjust to the beauty of my remodeled room and the convenience of our fancy kitchen. How could I live here while our neighbors struggled to pay heating bills and cooked on barely-functional stoves? I still don't know how I feel about the relative opulence of my place in comparison to the houses in my neighborhood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">But I do know how my students react when they find out that I live in the neighborhood. Joyful incredulousness. "Miss Kayleen, you are my neighbor! You live here too?" And my coworkers, although they don't seem to understand why, think it's cool that I am experiencing some of what the students do, and I think it creates a respect that I hope will open doors for sharing why I live how I live. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">So, overall, Phillips is a dream for so many reasons, but now, more than anything else, it is home.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #228822; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 15px;">Photos from: </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #228822; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 15px;">tcdailyplanet.net, </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/MainStreetProject">http://www.youtube.com/user/MainStreetProject</a>, <span style="background-color: white; color: #009933; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 14px; white-space: nowrap;">phillipswhittier365.blogspot.com</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-45677894504260714042012-06-13T23:18:00.000-05:002012-06-13T23:18:02.224-05:00Back for Good<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nearly six months of sixty hour work weeks, Greek class, and an intense small group led to a major gap in what used to be my super-consistent blogging. Sure, there were plenty of times that I pulled up my blog, looked at it, and decided that I didn't have energy to start something I couldn't keep up with. Sure, I felt guilty about it sometimes. But it would have been unrealistic for me to keep track of my experiences on here with soooooo much going on in the world around me. My prayer journal became my blog for a time.</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, for the four of you who actually keep up with my blog and enjoy updates, I am sorry. And I am back.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This summer I will be working with the cool kids on the block. Kids ages 5-12 will come to a summer arts camp to learn great art skills, rise above their situations, and learn valuable skills for the real world. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am so excited about my role (Group Lead) at this camp for a bajillion reasons. I get experience with a non-profit. I am learning about art. I am helping kids from my school and neighborhood. I am meeting cool new people every day. This week I have been training for working with them (don't worry, I'm not teaching art), and next week they come! Pray for me and keep reading (next post WILL be before the end of the weekend) to learn how the summer is going.</span></div>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-40816681510134381082012-03-04T22:21:00.000-06:002012-03-04T22:21:47.916-06:00In a small room...<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today I had the pleasure of sitting with two friends who are becoming very dear to me in the translation booth at church. I listened and watched them work together as they simultaneously translated the entire sermon into Spanish, one speaking and the other quickly pulling up Bible passages in Spanish and typing words that needed to be clarified. It was wonderful just to be getting that kind of experience in interpreting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But the highlight of that time, and maybe my whole week, was when the sermon was over and we had a few minutes without the microphone while the worship songs were being sung. Sitting there with this couple, singing songs of praise together in a small room in the basement of the church, knowing that we were joined upstairs by a thousand other believers, made my heart fill with joy. I felt closer to God there than I have in church in a dozen Sundays. </span><br />
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</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-49098519918596232902012-02-19T22:04:00.001-06:002012-02-24T18:12:06.364-06:00Balance<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some people are called to voluntary poverty, no doubt about it. And they live it beautifully, and they are confident of their calling, and they might want nice things, but they follow God's leading and live on less than most of us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I live in poverty. Just barely, and only according to a number set by the US government. Really, I have plenty of money for all I need and some left over. So my issue lately hasn't been "Am I called to voluntary poverty (not really a relevant question)?" but "What do I do with the "wiggle room" in my budget?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Nice things are nice. Soooo nice. Like cognac-colored boots. Want them! And a nice new bicycle to ride around the metro area. Would be so nice! And I want to backpack Europe. So that would mean a nice framepack as well. And a good-quality new sleeping bag. So the list goes on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But there are so many ways that I can use my money. A missionary living in a tiny village in Bolivia has to raise money in case she needs to airlift one of the townspeople out. A family is moving and needs some extra cash. Close friends have birthdays. A friend goes on a short-term trip. Kids in my neighborhood need clothes for school.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My tendency is to swing from one extreme to the other. One month of big spending, feel guilt, one month of more giving, ignore things that I need, repeat cycle. I think what I need at this point in my life is some balance. I need to follow God's leading when He is telling me to be generous, but I also have to be able to look professional at work, which might mean new shoes or a cardigan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is something I've been thinking about for several years, and I've even blogged about it before:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- <a href="http://handsformission.blogspot.com/2010/12/simplicity-vs-christmas-spirit.html">Simplicity vs Christmas Spirit</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">-<a href="http://handsformission.blogspot.com/2009/03/weak-and-fatherless.html">The Weak and Fatherless</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- <a href="http://handsformission.blogspot.com/2010/01/urbana-thoughts-working-in-poverty.html">Urbana Thoughts: Working in Poverty</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I don't claim to have the answers, but I'll keep writing about this as I live in Phillips and make ends meet.</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-625164807425389672012-02-12T21:23:00.000-06:002012-02-12T21:23:59.488-06:00Life, always interrupted<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It turns out that despite my best intentions I am not a great blogger in the United States. Life here is so fast-paced that I enjoy the few moments of quiet that I get too much to open my computer, even when blog post ideas are swimming around in my head. Checking Facebook isn't even fun anymore. We'll see if blogging returns to a therapeutic activity again when life slows down again (like life will ever slow down).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What has my life been full of lately? Well, exciting things. Things that have grown me in my spiritual walk and made me feel like I have community here. Things like:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- Hosting my older sister and friends now that I have a house to live in.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- Joining a new small group that has challenged me to live in community and to live for Christ</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- Barely staying up to snuff in my Greek class</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- Working extra hours at the coffee shop so I can go visit my grandma in Maryland over spring break</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- Taking part in a weekly community meal with my wonderful housemates</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- Listening to sermons on Hebrews, which we are studying for small group</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, maybe that's why I haven't been writing, but that's not an excuse to not document in some form the joys and sorrows of life with Christ. Here's my hope that the next time a great post idea comes into my brain I'll take the time to type it out.</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-4181299711139108672012-01-23T09:00:00.001-06:002012-01-23T09:00:06.942-06:00Exposure, Part 2<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The transition from my rural Wisconsin upbringing to life in the big city has been incredibly eye opening for me, and in <a href="http://handsformission.blogspot.com/2012/01/exposure-part-i.html">part one of this post</a> I described what I've been learning. At the end of my last post I left with questions that I vowed to think about in writing here.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">What do I do with this new knowledge? How do I fit in this life? Was it even a good idea for me to move here and get this job? Where does the gospel come in?</span> <br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I've been thinking about these questions since way before I ever moved into the Phillips neighborhood, and I've been learning all I can from the wise people around me at school and in my house. However, at this point in the game, I feel about as qualified to answer questions about ending poverty as a snail trying to win the 100 meter dash. So, instead I will recommend to you the books I am reading or that are on my list.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgteT22dghIA7RcT1K-_ZJajdgqPzkKQ_jYd1tpdg_9d8VQa7nn85_pGrPVd_IGJtA0sN0xuWjIZeulmoed_4Grm2gRG9SLdSbZq89XUApODtatGm7xRCyQwBzgggeoLoNzRaJh5aBNM/s1600/cultural+anthro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgteT22dghIA7RcT1K-_ZJajdgqPzkKQ_jYd1tpdg_9d8VQa7nn85_pGrPVd_IGJtA0sN0xuWjIZeulmoed_4Grm2gRG9SLdSbZq89XUApODtatGm7xRCyQwBzgggeoLoNzRaJh5aBNM/s200/cultural+anthro.jpg" width="144" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Cultural-Anthropology-Paul-G-Hiebert/dp/0801042739/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1326943563&sr=1-1">Cultural Anthropology</a> by Paul Hiebert</div><span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">This book was what first opened my eyes to my desire to understand where people were coming from and address social issues in light of culture and background. I read it for a class in college, but it was interesting enough that I would have easily read it on my own as well.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">This is the first book that directly, practically addresses the issue of global poverty that I've ever read. Although I have a ways to go before I finish it, so far I have to say that Easterly does a good job of making the financial side of poverty understandable to a mathematically-challenged person like me while keeping my interest with interesting stories of aid <i>working</i> around the world.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">I won this book on <a href="http://noelpiper.com/">Noel Piper's blog</a>, and I cannot wait to read it! To truly understand poverty, it's not sufficient to only study it from a financial and cultural perspective. Unless I also know what the root of poverty is and how to address it from a gospel-centered standpoint, I will merely be putting salve on a gaping wound. This book looks wonderful!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">My dear friend Ellen gave me this book for Christmas, and there are few people who know me better than she does. It takes a look into different kinds of ways used to help alleviate poverty and what takes a stab at what is really worthwhile in the end. Another one I can't wait to read.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">So, if you were looking for some great answers, I'm sorry. All I have now is resources. Someday in the future I plan to write a post about good ways that I've seen people, particularly people in the church, helping to alleviate poverty, but let's face it, these posts can't get any longer. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #525252; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Now go read some books!</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-20880665267502311322012-01-17T21:03:00.000-06:002012-01-17T21:03:28.259-06:00Exposure, Part I<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Growing up among the cows and corn fields of northern Wisconsin (ok, maybe not <i>among </i> them, but in their general vicinity), I was exposed to plenty of things. Things like eating grass fed beef and free range chickens/eggs without those fancy titles, watching the life cycle of all kinds of animals, understanding exactly how milk came from cows and feathers were plucked from chickens, and driving on icy country roads from a young age. My parents outstanding reputation as the honest and hardworking chiropractors in our small town kept me well-fed and happy, and very sheltered from many realities of life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What my charmed life sheltered me from was racial diversity (though not cultural-- I was taught to love my Norwegian heritage), urban poverty, discrimination, and economic disparity (although many of my friends were farmers' kids or lived below poverty levels, at the end of the day the 53 students in my class stood pretty united and pretty class-judgment-free).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Then this backwards little girl went to college, and her eyes were opened just a crack to the reality of life around her. The more I heard, the more I wanted to experience urban living for myself. I wanted to know what it felt like to have neighbors of all colors, and I wanted (naively?) to feel the crunch of barely having enough money to eek out a living. So I moved to the Phillips neighborhood, the place where I thought I would live just like my neighbors.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And what did I find out? First, that I will never, as much as I want to, be like the kids I work at school with, not even the white ones. Why not? Poverty is complex, and makes my temporary financial situation different from my students' families. I have this network of people bursting with resources who would give their right arms before they saw me go hungry or homeless. My car tires are bare? I mention the fact to my dad and he buys me new ones before I have time to decide whether my tiny savings account can handle it. I have no nice jeans? Not only can I drive myself to the nice thrift stores to get a cheap pair, I can also wear rich friends' Loft hand-me-downs. No money to pay bills? Grandpa's birthday check comes just in time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My students don't have these safety nets to cushion them. When their parents can't pay rent, they live in a homeless shelter for a month or two. When their cars break down they walk or taxi to school, and take the bus to buy groceries. When their clothes wear out they come to school with holes in their pants and their brother's old shirt on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Their families often have the added challenge of a language and culture barrier. A parent who could manage a retail establishment in Mexico makes burritos at Qdoba because his control of English is inadequate for another job. Racial discrimination keeps another parent from moving up in a company. And a student grows up not knowing whether to identify with her Latino culture or her born-in-America pride, or both. And I will never know these struggles like they do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yet most of these students of mine live in situational poverty. Their parents have just moved to this country, or they moved to this neighborhood because unemployment forced them out of their old living situations, and they are working two or three jobs to create a better life for their children. They go without so that someday soon their kids can have new uniforms, or even go to a "better" school. These families are full of hope for the future.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So the question is, what do I do with this new knowledge? How do I fit in this life? Was it even a good idea for me to move here and get this job? Where does the gospel come in? I'll think about those questions in Part 2.</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-76174402133746522512012-01-14T19:54:00.000-06:002012-01-14T19:54:03.118-06:00Legacy<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I have just returned from what my grandpa deemed "The Kay Stucky Memorial Cruise," and I am spending the evening remembering my grandma by eating her favorite ice cream.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am sitting in my bed and take the lid off of a pint of Ben & Jerry's Coffee Heath Bar Crunch. Grandma used her spoon to scrape off the inside of the lid first, so that's what I do too. Her dentures made it too hard for her to chew the toffee, so I suck on Heath Bar just like she did. And my mind goes back to my years taking care of Grandma.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I don't have a lot of meaningful memories of Grandma Kay from my young years. She would sit and smoke her cigarettes and watch golf when we visited her, and I was much more interested in the toys in her basement than who she was. I remember her generosity-- buying my cousins and I matching dresses and talking parrots for Christmas and birthday gifts. But I never really got to know my grandma until the end of my senior year of high school when I began to help her. Her arthritis and an ulcer on her leg gave her limited mobility, so I would visit her once a week or so and do laundry, chop vegetables, or vacuum. Never one to accept a handout, my grandma always slipped a bill into my hand as I left and refused to listen to my protestations. When I started college I would drive over once a month to clean the bathrooms and stock the fridge. During these times she would teach me about "crumbs" on the floor. "If you just pick up any crumb or fuzz you see on the floor, you can wait much longer to vacuum." And beets. "Try boiling them for twenty minutes and see if the skin doesn't just fall right off." And bookkeeping. "If you so much as blow on a piece of paper, label and date it."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">With three children, eleven grandchildren, and four great grandchildren, she never missed a birthday and remembered to call for friends' anniversaries. No matter how much pain her ulcer or arthritis gave her, she always managed to sound pleasant on the phone. Always she had good news about her family to share with a visitor, and always she took care of my grandpa.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">She smoked cigarettes all day long and almost never missed an episode of All My Children. Some of her habits I never want to imitate. However, as her pain worsened and I began to help her bathe and take care of herself, I learned to appreciate her love of beauty. She was not ready for visitors without red lipstick on, and the last thing we did before leaving the bathroom after cleaning up each day, after brushing hair and applying lipstick and looking in the mirror, was to dab a little Arpege perfume on her neck. "For when Grandpa kisses me." "In case I get visitors." She was a classy woman, and I want to be classy like her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And she fought. When her ulcer covered most of her lower leg and another started on the oppposite leg, she got creative. She found a remedy that worked, and always we rubbed her feet to get the blood flowing. Finally the day came when the wounds started to get smaller instead of larger, and in a month there were only scars where there had been decaying flesh. She always said that she would beat her arthritis, and when the pain got so bad that she needed help with the most routine activities, she kept her sense of humor. "Barack Obama, Barack Obama, Barack Obama," she huffed as I lowered her into the bathtub one day. "Somehow, focusing on his name makes the pain more bearable."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And one day as we dried her off after a bath, she confided in me about the growing lump on her body. "Just never tell Grandpa." She had vowed to refuse all medical care, and she knew that my grandpa would do whatever he could to see her well. And the lump stopped growing for awhile, and we all thought that she had beat whatever kind of tumor she had. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I graduated college (she sent a check that she could just barely sign, but hadn't left the house in years and didn't plan to start leaving with a graduation two hours away), and moved to Bolivia to teach for a year. And the lump grew. And her pain increased. The arthritis with the added cancer was more than even this strong woman could bear. We knew that time was limited. When my dad came to Bolivia for ten days, she stopped eating. Three weeks later, surrounded by her children and husband, she left this world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And today, seven months later, I let the cold creamy coffee flavor sit on my tongue and remember her. Not just a passing remembrance, a contemplating remembering. I remember her life and her person and her spirit. And I miss her.</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-71072773966451671452012-01-04T23:06:00.000-06:002012-01-04T23:06:37.000-06:00Trip<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There are so many things I've <i>thought </i>about writing in the last week or two, but all of my thoughts failed to turn themselves into words on this blog. I thought about things like:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- How much I've learned about immigrant culture in the last two months</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- My increased understanding about racial discrimination</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- My very single state</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- How wonderful my family is</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- The way I've struggled to find community here</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- A very strong pull toward consumerism I am feeling</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But I didn't write about any of those things. Instead, I took a little blog break. And now... now I am leaving for ten days on a VACATION with my FAMILY. We are going on a CRUISE. And I am going to take pictures and show you them when I get back. I am also committing to journal a lot while I'm there. It might just be about my trip, but I might journal future blog posts and then share them with you when I get home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">One way or another, I will be writing about the above topics when I get home. So pretty much, I'm saying to my few faithful readers, wait for me. I'm coming back. I just need to figure out how to blog in this country.</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-59035171139975883572011-12-18T20:14:00.000-06:002011-12-18T20:14:00.712-06:00Now This Is Life<p>I haven’t been posting very frequently anymore, and as I was reflecting on that fact a few days ago, it occurred to me that maybe that’s because I feel like I’m really in my life now. Last year I was in a new culture and country and I needed to share all that was going on in my heart and life. Now life is slightly more normal, and I’m comfortable just sharing with those around me.</p> <p> </p> <p>I think there’s also something different about being <em>me </em>again. Last year I was Kayleen the Volunteer Teacher. I could hide behind that part of my identity and speak from there. Now I am Kayleen the Kayleen, and talking about living in my neighborhood is talking about me taking full responsibility for my thoughts and judgments and decisions. This time in my life will be very special—being exposed to inner-city life and culture before I go on the mission field and possibly my last years as a single—but I think the struggles that it will carry are ones that will begin to define who I am. Problems that I view as struggles here (finding a church family where I belong, being content to live on a limited budget, dealing with my procrastinating nature) will be struggles for me in the rest of my life. Sharing those things is opening myself up and being raw.</p> <p> </p> <p>But I think the sharing is worth it. I want my life to be a witness to God’s power, and my weaknesses often best show His strength. So I think you can count on the next two years. You can count on updates and struggles and joys. And after those two years maybe you can read about my travels to another new land, a new people, and God’s power. May all of the things that I share glorify God can exalt Him above all else.</p> Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-58184130621669952962011-12-15T14:12:00.000-06:002011-12-15T14:12:54.686-06:00Gospel for the Inner City<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Quick wonderful story of God's goodness even when life is hard.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today I walked into a second grade classroom where I work, and one of the students who is often a behavior nightmare was behaving wonderfully. I sat down and began to talk to him. I told him that I heard that he used to attend a tutoring/discipling program that I local church puts on. He got so excited about it! He can no longer go because his mom doesn't have transportation, but he said he's been keeping up every week and plans on returning ASAP. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">God is the one who's doing a work in this kid's life, and I can't wait to see him back in the program, soaking up the truth of the word and being surrounded by gracious love.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some days I love my job.</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-12582084423737716922011-11-26T18:45:00.000-06:002011-11-26T18:45:02.077-06:00Giving ThanksLast Thanksgiving I sat in 95 degree heat with tears streaming down my cheeks as my nieces sang a song for me over Skype. I was glad to be in Bolivia, but spending the holidays away from my family was harder than I had ever imagined. I made it through Christmas with not-as-many tears, but this year I have had extra reason to give thanks as I get to spend both holidays in the US with most of my family (minus Heather. I <em>will</em> miss having her around for the holidays.).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toasting the day with sparkling grape juice</td></tr>
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Our Thanksgiving was nothing too special—we went to my brother and sister-in-law’s house and had turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, cranberry, and pumpkin pie. The basics. <br />
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Highlights of the day were:<br />
- Waking up and using my parents’ new juicer. Our juice consisted of celery, carrot, orange, apple, lime, cranberry, broccoli, cumcumber, ginger, and more I think. Deeeelicious!<br />
- Getting to see my grandpa. He just moved into retirement housing, and this was his first holiday without my beautiful <a href="http://handsformission.blogspot.com/2011/06/grandma-kay.html">Grandma Kay</a>. We all missed her. <br />
- Todd and Nicole had prepared a beautiful antipasto which is a tradition in our family (because of our Italian relatives) that I had completely forgotten about. It was beautiful, and we all got to finish putting it together. Eat with delicious French bread that my mom brought made for a perfect appetizer.<br />
- After we prayed, we all went around and said what we were thankful for. I, of course, was thankful to be in the States. My brother made a nice speech about being thankful for family that almost made me cry.<br />
- Watching the Packer game!!! My first full game since before I left for Bolivia (although I am required to keep up on the stats if I want to have significant conversations around here).<br />
- Going home and unpacking Christmas decorations with my mom and dad. <br />
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What a wonderful day!Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-71591809973534180312011-11-21T22:38:00.000-06:002011-11-21T22:38:12.099-06:00On Being Back<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My last few months in Bolivia were like injecting my veins with friendship speed. Every day was celebrating something, and I had no end of cool people to celebrate with because they were coming and going, in and out of my country and city. That's missionary life.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2XTyWVlAX9pvVVPyKGfNojY0AZ5GbXW003e9FgaFaQ0Z_k2yWZdmSdtTG-H08DcMJfiGF50-u6VpfvXMg15eK2uzNoC8MUBbZq7v6Di64j-N9Uvnjri3WY0K6pTeoMk0xVQzo1pQoTU/s1600/DSCN1122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb2XTyWVlAX9pvVVPyKGfNojY0AZ5GbXW003e9FgaFaQ0Z_k2yWZdmSdtTG-H08DcMJfiGF50-u6VpfvXMg15eK2uzNoC8MUBbZq7v6Di64j-N9Uvnjri3WY0K6pTeoMk0xVQzo1pQoTU/s400/DSCN1122.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And missionary life was good for my friendships here in the US too, at least for those last few months. My Facebook wall was always full of kind notes about people excited to see me when I got home. Home. As if that place existed to me anymore. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now I've been back for just under four months. I'm just beginning to feel settled into a semi-permanent job, a church, and a house. And I am not on friendship crack anymore. And it's hard for me. Maybe selfishly, but I liked being the novelty. I was the <i>gringa</i> who could speak Spanish to my Bolivian friends, and my friends in the US were willing to excuse my bad communication and forgetfulness because I was serving the Lord in a foreign land. And the missionaries. They were friends who understood my adventurous spirit and why I was willing to serve the way I did. But my friends in Bolivia, even if they wanted to, do not have consistent internet access to stay in close contact. My friends here can see my faults up close and personal, and I am just <i>me</i> again to everyone. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How do I learn to be me, without a ministry or a cultural barrier to cover the parts of me I'd like to hide? How do I exist exactly as God intends me to in this <i>normal</i> life? This life means some nights at home with a book, and some days without phone calls. I like those things, but I'm not used to them. Call it reverse culture shock, call it my third culture, but adjusting to do.</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-49457880524936895312011-11-15T08:40:00.000-06:002011-11-15T08:40:00.754-06:00Life is not poetic<p>In case we become discouraged because our lives seem ordinary.</p> <p><em>“The colored sunsets and starry heavens, the beautiful mountains and the shining seas, the fragrant woods and painted flowers, are not half so beautiful as a soul that is serving Jesus out of love, in the wear and tear of common, unpoetic life.”</em></p> <p>- Faber (from <em>Streams in the Desert</em> by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman)</p> Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-52075757497079643482011-11-12T14:37:00.000-06:002011-11-12T14:37:40.025-06:00Being Watched<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I have hardly lived in my new house here in the Phillips neighborhood for two weeks now, yet in the last few days I found out that two of my students live on the same block as I do. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Having students so close to me is a privilege and also a responsibility. Apparently little second graders have lots of time to peer out their windows; they've both mentioned seeing me go out to my car or check my mail. I want to be the teacher that leads these kids to the truth, that tells how they can live to their potential. I guess now that my every move is being watched I need to make sure that I'm setting that example. Is my life speaking Christ? Are my actions showing that I'm not content to fit the mold that society says I was made for? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Pray for me, that I would be bold to speak when the time calls for it, and that my example, even from car door to house, would be a light that shines for all to see.</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-77796226968781969672011-11-09T15:47:00.000-06:002011-11-09T15:47:45.913-06:00I Won!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I have been entering blog giveaways for quite some time, thanks to <a href="http://missionalmamassoul.blogspot.com/">Amy</a>, my blogging friend who seems to always win the coolest things. I am proud to announce that today I won a really cool book!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=hisstrengthin-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=1936760320" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe></span><br />
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</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I entered a while ago on <a href="http://noelpiper.com/">Noel Piper</a> (my pastor's wife)'s blog, and had forgotten about the giveaway. What a pleasant thing to come home to!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Especially now that I am living in a neighborhood where poverty is a daily reality, I think Aaron Armstrong's book will be good for me to read. Can't wait to open it up and dig in!</span></div>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-2669298045178825302011-11-08T07:09:00.000-06:002011-11-08T07:09:00.233-06:00Not All Daisies and Roses<p>I have had this dream of living in a lower-income urban neighborhood for several years, and I didn’t choose it to be my dream because I thought that each day would leave me feeling like all was right with the world. I was well aware of some of the struggles that I would see and hopefully eventually be able to help with, but thinking through things and living through things is different. </p> <p> </p> <p>Seeing students take home packs of food at the end of each week so that they won’t go hungry (on school days many students eat breakfast, lunch, and a snack during the day). Never being able to talk about but knowing that some of my students have hard home lives (sometimes they choose to share things with me that break my heart, and it’s hard to know what I can and can’t say to comfort them). Hearing the neighbors fight. Noticing judgment in someone’s eyes just because of the color of someone’s skin. These things make my smile a little plastered on sometimes in school. </p> <p> </p> <p>How do we live with this? How and what do we fight? I’m here now, living where I thought I’d be useful. Just how do I <em>become</em> useful?</p> Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-53975392455634528812011-11-06T16:35:00.001-06:002011-11-06T16:35:04.014-06:00Insider Outsider<p>This weekend I was made an offer that I couldn’t refuse for a gym membership in the ritzy neighborhood just a few miles away from my house here in Phillips. I’m glad for this opportunity because I do need to get in shape, and winter in Minnesota isn’t the best motivator for outside workouts. The gym is really nice and I think that I get healthier just by walking in the door.</p> <p> </p> <p>But this new identity that I have, member of this gym, makes me feel a little more like an outsider in the circles I am working to be a part of. I have the extra spare change per month that my membership will cost—families I know are struggling just to put food on the table (which was me last month, but with only myself to support and no debt, my financial situation didn’t take very long to become semi-stable). Why didn’t I use this extra money to help out those families? What about the time that I will spend at that gym instead of building intentional relationships with my neighbors. Was it really worth it?</p> <p> </p> <p>How do I live in this world but not be of it? Where is the line between being a responsible young professional and living an abandoned life of grace? Is there even a line? Can they possibly flow together for this missionary-wannabe? I challenge you to pray for me as these questions become a part of my daily struggle, and also to examine your heart to see where your motives are for seemingly inconsequential decisions that you make each day.</p> <p> </p> <p align="center"><em><font size="4">I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in His word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.</font></em></p> <p align="center"><em><font size="4">- Psalm 130:5-6</font></em></p> Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-50252414969010227502011-11-04T11:40:00.001-05:002011-11-04T11:40:59.254-05:00I’ve moved!<p>After two months of the daily commute, of living over 30 min. from work, school, and church, I am happily settled in a beautiful house in the middle of the Phillips neighborhood of Minneapolis. </p> <p> </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Fl46eEcWyjM/TrQVmW-OTfI/AAAAAAAAAc0/iZkJqf_sLMo/s1600-h/DSCN1476%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="DSCN1476" border="0" alt="DSCN1476" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-92_YqlvOn8M/TrQVmpY_6GI/AAAAAAAAAc8/MeEx2i1FMZ4/DSCN1476_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="360" height="275"></a></p> <p> </p> <p>Yesterday when I got home from work one of my new housemates had also just gotten home, and she invited me to go with her to walk to the local Somali mall to get a cup of chai. On our walk it was clear that our neighborhood is far from perfect—our house has just been remodeled and is in good shape, but several need lots of TLC, young kids walk themselves home from school, and threatening graffiti is a reminder that we need to be cautious. However, this area is wonderful, too. Our two white faces in a sea of black at the mall, friendly greetings from people who recognize my housemate on the walk, and people flying by in the bike lanes before it is too cold to run errands this way.</p> <p> </p> <p>There are many here from people groups who are completely closed to the gospel. I pray that the light of our house will shine beyond just the front porch and into the hearts of those who need Good News.</p> <p> </p> <p>I am feeling so content to be where I am right now. I live within walking distance of the school I work at. A walk around the neighborhood makes it clear that <em>I</em> am the minority, and the young women I live with are excited to be here as well.</p> <p> </p> <p><em>I just want to clarify that I don’t want to write about where I live without leaving out the cultural and racial diversity that exists, here, but I never want to sound or be prejudiced in my words. I am here to create justice and equality, so if my words ever sound prejudiced, please leave a comment! After growing up in Scandinavian Wisconsin, I’m still learning how to correctly express what’s on my heart when it comes to the racial injustices I see in the world. </em></p> Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-80625007624648757392011-10-22T16:12:00.000-05:002011-10-22T16:12:01.221-05:00Setting Stereotypes Straight<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Small Thought for the Day:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I love it when a refugee comes in to the coffeeshop I work at and orders a latte, and I am sweeping and mopping the floor. To me, in a very small way, that is some kind of social <i>justice.</i></span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-24236017061755113422011-10-18T22:32:00.000-05:002011-10-18T22:32:58.492-05:00Bilingual<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KXYgkGqKG7LUk7plUDeURHQat5sMg-D93Si_xQTeoMgS2YBN3thLo3MZsQtQSTyjUf2EEYouVf4MRSxlvhXAkiC4JYuvwzoMW7UsT20132XWUo8yALnhYk23RtCbfj2JZD_ZtacjELQ/s1600/babel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4KXYgkGqKG7LUk7plUDeURHQat5sMg-D93Si_xQTeoMgS2YBN3thLo3MZsQtQSTyjUf2EEYouVf4MRSxlvhXAkiC4JYuvwzoMW7UsT20132XWUo8yALnhYk23RtCbfj2JZD_ZtacjELQ/s400/babel.jpg" width="352" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For years since my Spanish has been decent I have struggled to label myself as bilingual. Regardless of how good I sound to an English speaker,I still have conversations with Spanish speakers where I leave saying, "If I didn't understand what I think I understood, we could be in trouble."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But three weeks ago I took a test and was hired for a job<i> </i>which has <i>bilingual</i> right in the title. And suddenly, regardless of any hesitations or doubts I might have, I have been thrown into the world of required fluency. Kids in classrooms are calling each other names in Spanish that I have to catch, I am expected to listen to English words and write them down in Spanish, and tonight I interpreted for parent/teacher conferences. These experiences have been blowing my mind!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Language is a powerful thing! There is a reason that God gave us language confusion (and also linguistic beauty) when our heads were getting big at the tower of Babble. Speaking a second language is like having a bridge where there used to be only a gorge. I love that my language bridge, which used to be safe for personal use only (you've gotta stick with the analogy here), is now substantial enough that others-- students, parents, and teachers-- can be supported by it when they need to get information across.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Tonight I responded to an emergency interpreter call to a classroom, and when I arrived, the teacher had been trying for ten minutes to get a message across to a parent with the few Spanish words she knew. The parent was giving her blank stares. I walked in and sat down, and suddenly the conference flowed. I was astonished. I am so glad that I studied this phenomenon of sounds, words, and ideas, but not only parent/teacher conference purposes. There is beauty in the fact that God allows language bridges to be the route of transportation for the delivery of His word to every tribe, tongue, and nation.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Picture from <a href="http://thebackpew.com/">here</a></span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-83938899158895929482011-10-10T21:42:00.000-05:002011-10-10T21:42:59.838-05:00Be Her Guest<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I guest posted again, this time on my friend <a href="http://missionalmamassoul.blogspot.com/">Amy's great blo</a>g! You can check out my blurb on living out the gospel as a <a href="http://missionalmamassoul.blogspot.com/2011/10/31-days-of-missional-living-day-10.html">single person here</a>. Enjoy!</span>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-71106588276172076692011-10-08T09:16:00.003-05:002011-10-08T09:16:00.505-05:00Fall in WisconsinA collection of pictures I may or may not have taken while driving.<br />
<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-iiLFmRLKp2g/To5hD927H8I/AAAAAAAAAbs/m6wppHuIl3Y/s1600-h/DSCN1453%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSCN1453" border="0" height="445" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-B3NC_IpphSU/To5hElJdPhI/AAAAAAAAAbw/5N7w030vSFg/DSCN1453_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSCN1453" width="552" /></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-RcVqdPO4mvY/To5hFrpaVFI/AAAAAAAAAb0/A4E78xwfZZA/s1600-h/DSCN1458%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSCN1458" border="0" height="330" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-2fUCCJ3bqEc/To5hGQGDl5I/AAAAAAAAAb4/uM97RB65f0g/DSCN1458_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSCN1458" width="427" /></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-SCcLiOBmG6k/To5hHKWmBlI/AAAAAAAAAb8/dzQLFD9NJCg/s1600-h/DSCN1465%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSCN1465" border="0" height="336" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/--_EUWbg0D2U/To5hH1KKXYI/AAAAAAAAAcA/xo4VVpbsRVw/DSCN1465_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSCN1465" width="427" /></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-C5Hwhrj1g3M/To5hJAmISvI/AAAAAAAAAcE/y5khtVHH7x8/s1600-h/DSCN1474%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSCN1474" border="0" height="344" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-TlW1Huxq0U8/To5hJte7FXI/AAAAAAAAAcI/2BMEgA_LrrI/DSCN1474_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSCN1474" width="433" /></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-MWrCZCshoIo/To5hK06DvmI/AAAAAAAAAcM/1Vdyug9z31I/s1600-h/DSCN1475%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSCN1475" border="0" height="340" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-hXXjr5ADoG8/To5hLjw2hsI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/IOaZMaLimmQ/DSCN1475_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSCN1475" width="440" /></a>Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8673004928595414781.post-3357275893567924482011-10-06T21:11:00.001-05:002011-10-06T21:11:08.806-05:00My Big News<p>I have a job! And I will get to use my Spanish daily in my job! After months of searching, applying, interviewing, praying, working at a coffee shop, more applying, being rejected, being offered jobs that I didn’t want, being frustrated, and then accepting God’s timing, I finally was offered the exact job that I wanted.</p> <p> </p> <p>Last week Wednesday I received a call from Minneapolis Public Schools offering me the job. God’s timing was perfectly perfect, allowing me to become established enough at the coffee shop that I can stay on for a few hours a week, but also giving me this job just before I was offered another job that I didn’t want as much. I see His grace and provision in every step of the last two months.</p> <p> </p> <p>I will be a Bilingual Associate Educator at an elementary/middle school in the Phillips neighborhood of South Minneapolis. This school is almost 80% Latino, and I will be doing a variety of jobs from bus control to ESL groups to lunch duty to testing students. Maybe this doesn’t sound like a glorious job, but I will actually be helping people! I will be using my Spanish so that it improves and becomes less rusty, I will be able to make a decent living, and I think it’s a perfect job for the place I’m at in life right now.</p> <p> </p> <p>Today was my first day, and I am exhausted. I think that I met over one hundred first and second graders today. Praise be to God, who gives us all we need for grace and glory. I can’t wait to see how this year turns out.</p> Kayleenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02541405970227367863noreply@blogger.com2