On Transitions and Cooking

Yesterday, I found out the news that I have not been invited to a second interview for an organizer position that I really wanted to pursue in the anti-immigration detention policy world. I think I am taking the news better than I thought I would, even though I know deep down I am absolutely devastated. I still have to draft a "thank you" message for even being notified that I am no longer being considered for the position. And even that makes me feel pretty low. But to be honest, I have been limited in my ability to express gratitude to others in this transition to SoCal, and I have had difficulty in seeing the value in my work and in my analysis of the current issues in immigration detention today. Challenges keep coming up, and even these newer challenges are making me reflect on the older ones. Should I have better addressed older issues had I known they would likely grow into me feeling a certain way about the current challenges that I face?

I am learning more and more that so much of this work is political. I wish my merit can speak to the work I have done in the last 2-3 years that I was doing my anti-immigration detention work. Right now I am still trying to figure out where I fit in, where my organizing work fits in with everyone else. My skills feel limited in policy, and I am not particularly interested in it even though this is such an important time for immigration policy today. I don't even know if I really believe in policy, blocking all these changes that the government keeps throwing at people. It is exhausting. I believe in the power of community organizing so much more. And it hurts to see how elitist this world is. It is also really difficult to prove yourself in this work, people are very critical and horrible communicators. I think I have picked up a knack for feeling when people just - do not like me. I guess I talk a lot or talk too much. I guess I bring up a lot of feelings for people. And I guess I make them uncomfortable. It is something that I actually should be proud of, but it makes navigating these work dynamics all the more difficult.

A good friend of mine told me that what happened at my previous workplace was abuse, and that they were using me. While I agree with him, I wish I could feel that I ended up on higher ground, but it is true I myself and all of us staff members of color got the short end of the stick. From this experience, and even the experience of not getting the organizer position, I am learning that transactional organizing and workplace organizing really does not work. I want to be able to give to myself more, and replenish my spirit. I want to do things that help me gain experience and skills, and to do things that help me heal. I have a lot of healing that I need to do in this transition from NYC, from abusive and racist non-profit work spaces, and from abusive and hurtful and transactional political organizing spaces.

One of the main things that I even have an idea of pursuing is cooking. I started working on simple recipes, and I am working on making Filipino food. One of the benefits of being at home (while it is very difficult to stay in one place!) is that I have these opportunities to cook for Grandpa. I still have some money saved up that let me purchase ingredients for these meals. And Casey is helping to drive me to the market in the meantime, while I work on getting my drivers license. It has nothing to do with work or advancing a career in any way, but it is important for my healing - I realize . . .

I think part of me still feels guilty for moving to NYC when grandma was sick with cancer. I missed so much of her final days with us. I feel like I ran away from the responsibility as the eldest grand-daughter, and oldest daughter in our household. This feeling of regret and guilt, I always think I am processing it but I feel far away from being able to do that effectively. Hopefully cooking will help me feel better about it. I am cooking for grandpa, but I want it to be out of love and dedication to Grandma, not out of guilt or sadness. Maybe this is also my way of still mourning for her. Maybe this is my way of proving to myself that I did not fail her. I am not really sure.

I received this cookbook on New Filipino cooking as a gift. I already attempted the Diniding recipe, per Grandpa's request. Today I am going to be making Lumpia Sariwa for him, literally in like - 10 minutes! So I need to wrap up this blog soon. I have all the ingredients needed to make this a decent meal. I hope I cook it well and am able to reflect on what Grandma must have felt while she was cooking. I miss her so much, I wish she could tell me what to do. Grandma always valued education and hard work, I know she wants me to pursue my education as well. This is something I have been putting off for working.  I hope I can find more balance in life and being in SoCal, and to be in a place where I can handle working and going to school again. I want to make that to be a personal commitment to Grandma and to myself.

What I can say is cooking does give me confidence in my ability to learn again. And taking these driving classes helps me too. I hope to get my license soon, then I can drive myself to classes in the future! I think right now, as I heal my spirit, building up my confidence even in the little things is key. And I also need to learn to better care for myself and prioritize myself before focusing on others or giving too much to other people. I spent an entire 2-3 years giving to others, and I learned that does not always bring the best for your situation, so it is important to care for yourself first. I want to be better at doing this, and also setting boundaries for myself. I learned that other people can really take a lot from you, whether they intend to or not. And I learned that some people are doing things to look out for themselves first, even if you do nice things for them they will still operate like that. All of those things are simply out of my control. But what is in my control is what I do for myself, to advance myself. What is difficult is this is not me being selfish by any means, I still want to be able to give back to my community and to help others. The difference is, I want to be able to do this for me as well and for my spirit. Instead of relying on other people's spirits to lift me up. I think there is an entire realm of my spiritual self that I have yet to tap into, and I want to connect to that part of myself more. I want to learn how to be my own protection, my own provider, my own friend . . .

ok time to cook!

[OLDER POST] I'm sick of everyone telling me to be independent . . .

Things I am constantly hearing from other people:

It is better to be independent
I know that. Obviously, it is ideal to not have to depend on anyone. But usually when I hear this, I feel like it is assumed because of my age, my romantic relationship, my relationship with my parents being good, me technically not having a full time job right now and sustaining myself . . . as if all of those things are bad things!  I mean sure, I am not struggling. I recognize that greatly while I recognize so many others my age are struggling. It was all my choice, ultimately, sure. But I honestly am not planning to no longer have something that I think is going good in my life right now. Nor do I try to push it out with what other people think is better. I am just perfectly fine where I am right now. Sure that fluctuates here and there, but I am generally content with life and I think that is fine. Everyone else around me might not be at the moment, but whatever.

You truly learn what it means to be on your own when you don't live with your parents
I live with my dad. I do not need to pay rent right now while I am still looking for a job. Is that awesome? Yes it is! Lucky me, I do not ever overlook that or take it for granted. I am fully appreciative as much as possible. But whoever said I need to learn this lesson right now? I will dammit, eventually. But right now I will be taking my time making good memories with my dad and learning more about him. When I am on my own and forced to become stronger, great, I will await for the time to fully hit but I will not rush into forcing myself to. Yes, I am comfortable. Yes, it is a simple life. But I am not taking it for granted and I am not giving it away because people tell me to.

Don't ever let a guy think you depend on him, he will tie you down
I love my boyfriend. Sure we bicker here and there, but sometimes I think it is cute. Sure, sometimes we play house, we are too cutesy or we seem very naive about love. Whatever, if you think we will probably break up in three years. I don't give a fuck. He is awesome. We are friends. We help each other out, and I am so thankful to have him in my life. This does not necessarily mean I will give in all my dreams just to make him happy. That is stupid, and he would never make me do that. Sometimes, he can be a jerk, but I check that shit all the time. I really do not think I am failing at this serious relationship thing! I do not think I am missing out on all the other fish I can date, when those fish most likely just think about themselves all the time.  He is the only fish I want. Doesn't everyone else who is single dream of that? Well then haters need to listen to me, cuz it's possible! There is nothing wrong with wanting someone to think about me. There is nothing wrong with the same someone to want me to think about them. It's just perfect that way! Not weird and bizarre, but perfect and romantic as fuck. So there.

 If I were your age, I would take advantage of being single and travel the world
I do want to travel the world, and it will be there when I am ready to explore it to my fullest capability. But right now, there are other things I need to work on and figure out. And being in a committed relationship does not prevent the both of us from being able to see the world together one day. Honestly, I feel like I have traveled a lot, it definitely does a lot to a person, you grow and get wiser but then you are also exhausted. I want to relax, I want to experience not rushing for the next adventure and just enjoy the calm.

You could totally live on your own and survive, don't ever think you need a guy to survive.
Like, I never planned for this nor did I think I was missing out on anything in life. I am pretty sure I feel happy right where I am, and in the moments I do not feel happy, I am going my own path and doing it my own way to find personal happiness. This has nothing to do with whether I have my own money to spend or not, whether I depend on someone to love me, etc etc.

Reflecting on my time in NYC

I spent 5+ years living and working and organizing in NYC. And there is a lot of experiences to reflect on, and a lot of emotions that I still have to unpack. I moved recently and am back in L.A. area. To be honest, my fiancee Casey and I decided we should move to L.A. about 2 or 3 years ago.
During that time, NYC was tough to stay in and everyday was exhausting. I also missed my family and my grandpa terribly. So we made the plan that once the first opportunity came along, we would move. Then after that moment of frustration and promise making, so much started to happen in my life and things started changing. I started making friends again in spaces that were so unexpected. In spaces that were totally new to me, both in people and in politics.

I went through a traumatic experience in my organizing work. I cannot really disclose which people and with which organizations, but it shocked me and changed how I was able to move in spaces. Toxic is not even a strong enough word to describe it, but basically it was the breaking of the most spiritual level of trust that I had in people that I was organizing with. Hopefully one day I can be more open about what caused it. But for now I can only describe how it felt and what had happened to me afterward. I have never been a person who particularly fit in with a specific group, not since middle school anyway. I have always moved from group to group, depending on who I like, or who likes me. And even if my politics or identity or personality or interest matched with a group, there was always something about group dynamics and power that felt so isolating for me. So when I tried really hard to build with a group of people that I thought I could identify with, I learned how wrong I could be. The falling out with these people set my stomach on fire. Every second of thought was a dizzying experience. I could not trust my own reactions anymore, I could no longer attend spaces or actions or rallies that I was passionate about serving. I felt like a fraud for even thinking about going, because there were people on higher pedestals who I felt like I saw straight through. There were even two or three times where I had suicidal thoughts that brought me to the deepest ocean in my mind where no one else existed except for the many other me's. How awful that time was . . .

If it was not for Casey, I honestly don't know how I would have gotten through it. Thank goodness I did. It took a lot of tries though, like purging social media, exploring the city by myself, going to therapy. Maybe I can write about therapy in another post since that was an entire experience . . .

The singular thing that saved me was probably hearing about other events and slowly coming out of my shell again to see other groups. One of the first events I attended was after Trump had gotten elected, there was an event entitled "Staying Woke After Trump", hosted by PPA NYC at the Solidarity Action Center. I had been to that space before for international solidarity events, but I never really attended events that were about other issues besides what was happening in the Philippines.

We split into groups based on borough. I went to the group in Queens, was encouraged by the only 3 other brown people in that circle to keep it going, I called a meeting in my apartment, and that was it.

The first meeting I hosted in a tiny apartment in Astoria had mostly white people attending. It definitely felt weird but I kept trying to organize anyway. One of the meetings we had was held at the DRUM office where we were given a CopWatch training by local folks who were doing Copwatch with the Justice Committee,
(which I later found to be a sham in connection to Communities United for Police Reform and the killing of Eric Garner, in which recent news has only led to President wanna-be DiBlasio promising to "do something" after protesters chanted to Fire Pantaleo at a live NBC-televised Democratic debate for the president election race 2020. And about 2 days ago, the decision was made to suspend Pantaleo. Not fire, not sentence him for murder, but to grant him a paid vacation for carrying our the historic deed that is White Supremacy for the White Nation. 

I will expend more on my personal opinions about DiBlasio, CPR, and the nonprofits leading "social justice" work.)

Anyway, that Copwatch training was my first encounter with other organizers in Queens who were not closely connected to the Filipino community. It was mostly white people who showed up again, and it still felt very weird, but two of them in particular stood out. They were saying that instead of meeting about Copwatch, we should instead be joining ShutItDown Crew out of Grand Central Station to protest the killing of Eric Garner. In that moment, I actually agreed with a white person for the first time and I decided if I was going to do organizing work, I need to answer to more calls to action when a Black person is killed by the police. I felt guilt and shame and an intense amount of anger. But my curiosity about this group built up until I felt this great itching, I just had to go! I learned that this because People's Mondays, a regular ongoing non-permitted action led by the NYC Shut It Down Crew. 

Back to my reflection: The next few PPA Queens meetings had less and less white people, as I kept calling nonprofit organizations like Make the Road NY bullshit, and also the Democratic Socialists for America, and also Showing Up for Racial Justice (SURJ) and also JFREJ (Jews showing up for racial justice) - mostly because they were white led. But in my exposure to the weekly PPA meetings on Wednesdays held in Midtown, I was learning more about the nonprofit organizations and the non-profit-industrial complex that continued to churn in NYC. Nonprofits are primarily led by white people, and white people often do not like to follow leadership of Black and Brown people. I was seeing this phenomenon occur in my own home during the PPA Queens meetings, and I am so glad I was recognizing it and calling it for what it was. The funny thing about white people is they always want things to be spelled out for them, they always want to be told the solution to issues that have nothing to do with them. But they will also ALWAYS have some kind of issue with a solution proposed by a Black or Brown person, they will always have a critique of it somehow. And the worse thing, is they will always back out on their promises as an ally, and they will always take credit for work they did not do. And they will always benefit from it. 

This is when I learned that white people do not get to declare themselves allies. I get to decide when I think a white person is an ally. And so far, I only have about 4 in my closer circles who fit that description. And I am so happy to also call them my friends. 

I want to make clear that when I talk about "white people", I am not just talking about the ones that I think are liberal, or the ones I think are racist, no. There's not really a distinction for me that separates all that out. I am talking about White Supremacy, and all the little tiny nuances and crumbs that come from it. Throughout my time organizing in NYC and moving through spaces, I was seeing it everywhere. EVERYWHERE. I had always seen it and I had always known it, but now I could actually NAME IT. Words like racist, prejudice, ignorance . . . those are just filler words for me now. They actually mean something else. Something that most people in this country do not want to acknowledge exists. Like looking in the mirror or the reflection and seeing it as a portal to another dimension. "White supremacy?! Oh no! Not here! Not in my house!" - because they fail to hold famous White Supremacists, like dylan roof and whats-his-name-does-it-even-matter White guy that killed 19 people in the El Paso shooting after writing a racist manifesto and buying bullets for an AK-47. 

(This will probably be a common thing for a majority of these posts - forewarning. And thank goodness. Makes it more fun for me to write!)

Anyway I will switch it up - the PPA Queens meetings weren't all that bad. There were some Brown folks who started to show up regularly, which made the work much better. There is one person in particular who came to one of the meetings in my house, and I cannot describe it as anything else than fate. She is my match, and probably one of my soul mates too, I dunno. So incredibly beautiful and smart. Her fire matched mine. Since our meeting, we have organized meetings together, attended actions, led Swipe it Forward actions in Queens, and we have done our own CopWatch. Besides that, we shared so much about our lives and what we have been learning. Meeting her is probably one of the greatest things to happen to me because of NYC. I have God to thank for it. And she is going to be a bridesmaid at my wedding! There is no one else I can think of who is the most exciting and mysterious person that matches me in so many ways, including our skin color. She is the definition of life's rarity. 

I started to attend other organizing spaces, and met with local organizers in Queens whom I had never even heard of before. But I lived in NYC for so long, without knowing them?! I felt cheated. Anyway, the first local space that I went to in Queens was joining a meeting with ICE Free Queens. That is where I met organizers who were also holding down one of the most important community spaces of our time, Centro Corona (previously Immigrant Movement International, which was also previously a project of Queens Museum). Today I am happy to say that this space has its own autonomy, membership, and it's own programming. It is the most beautiful community I have gotten to know in NYC. And to this day, the people I met there literally saved my life. 

The organizers I met at Centro Corona and with ICE Free Queens (which we later named as Queens Libre) has taught me more about movement building and base-building than what I was learning in the Filipino-American led spaces. I learned about transformative organizing, and I saw things like "Emergent Strategy" come into practice. Each one of them was so special, it almost seems unbelievable that so many incredible people can fit into one space, day-dreaming and day planning about abolition in the Corona community. I suddenly found a space where every part of me was welcome, where I was able to breathe and rest and reflect. And where I was able to love again. This space taught me that I didn't need to be doing work or completing tasks all the time. They made me feel like simply existing was revolutionary enough, which we all know is not really realistic, but how beautiful of a feeling it is! Finally, I found a space that made me feel alive again! A space that taught me how to love others better and how to love myself even more. It was a space where accountability was a priority, and community care was a fine art. It didn't even matter which physical space we occupied, our container could change and shift, but not us. We were like water. We were a magical liquid. Whether we existed in someone's apartment, in a center, in the park, we were a thing of beauty and creation. 

Suddenly, I found myself going to actions again, even the ones where other people from previous hurtful spaces where sharing the same street. I had gained a sense of confidence in myself again and a confidence in what I stood for. The movement no longer felt like a clique, like an exclusive nasty thing that made my stomach hurt and made me dizzy. The movement looked like roses, it smelled like corn, it felt like breezes through trees. It was air again. 

There is no point of having air without having fire. 

That singular fire moved into my life like a breaking dawn. 

This led me to learning about and getting to know the only people's led grassroots, Black women peoples organization for Black Liberation, called Bronxites for NYPD Accountability, "affectionately known as Why Accountability". This peoples organization has changed my life, and possibly my lifetimes prior to this one. Getting to know this organization over time has been one of the singularly most liberating experiences of my life, and it deserves it's own blog post for sure! 

Essentially, it is solely due to the influence and organizing power of Why Accountability that has opened my eyes and my critical mind, and I slowly found myself entering the Stop the Raids Coalition, where I had the opportunity to work with members of the Incarcerated Workers Organizing Committee, an organization I had deeply admired for its work in connecting with persons incarcerated and enslaved in the modern slave plantations today, the "mass incarceration system". It meant supporting community members and family members who suffered from their family being stolen from them, forced to work for free. It meant supporting youth who were being targeted by the NYPD since they were children, and men targeted by the NYPD since they were youth, primarily those living in NYCHA public housing. To this day we continue to support those stolen and imprisoned from large NYPD raids, that we term as "gang raids" because the justification for these disappeared youths is their loose and alleged affiliation with "gang members", all of which is a lie. 

I have witnessed white cis-male judges report the fate of tens of young Black men, sentencing them from two years to twenty years in prison for often alleged gang affiliations, alleged narcotics possession, and alleged everything else under the sun. But the only crime to the white man's mind is a person being Black. I know this because I witnessed that judge further elaborate on his decision to imprison a Black man for his "musical lyrics" as being "violent", for his use of the n-word 26 times in a song. This white judge went as far as to repeat those lyrics and read them out to further the satisfaction of the prosecution, and to embarrass and harass this young man's family. He read out the n-words every single time with emphasis (as my good friend said once, he said the R's) almost as if he was chanting from the mouth of his ancestors and loving it. This Black mans' family and friends had to stand there listening to the White judge read out the lyrics like sentencing, as if to say his "vulgar" language insinuates that he has not shown moral cause for him to be released.

All the Black man said, in his defense, is after serving his time in prison, he wanted to pursue teaching in music. The White man responded and said his music was vulgar, and should not be taught. And therefore, his argument for his freedom was moot. But really, the White man did everything in his power and then some to prevent a future Black teacher of liberation from teaching other Black people in society to rise up and resist. The White Man fears this most of all, and did everything in his power to prevent it, not only for the Black man on trial, but to use him as an example in front of his family and children and friends, to quell their future resistance and his impending doom.

All I can say is this has empowered my resistance and strength. It angered me in ways I never felt anger before. Frankly, witnessing this I felt like throwing up. And that is just one example, there are many I hope to write down in order to document my own history. Trauma can really fuzz up my memory, so in hopes I do not forget my own experiences and memories, I will write them down. 

These are my thoughts, just spelled out straight as I think them. No edits. And thank goodness, this is just for me. Yet I have no way to separate this out from my economic pursuits, my family life, my current engagement and future marriage and from the community I share. I will continue this blog to reflect on my past traumas, to learn from what happened, and to think strategically about my steps forward in all areas. 

I end this blog post with my intention to heal myself, and to move forward even stronger and sharper. I have yet to write a full blog post about the traumas of my work experiences, the traumas of white supremacy in multiple spaces, and the traumas of the non-profit industrial complex and its attack on communities. I hope as I spell out those experiences and what I learned, I can peel away the layers of pain and anger and find grounding in my strength again. 

As I create my new life here in SoCal, I hope to not lose sight of my mission and to not lose sight of myself and the lessons I have learned in NYC. I hope to continue to build my friendships with my comrades, and to navigate the world around me. I hope to continue to dream about Eric Garner and Erica Garner, and I will continue to pray for my leaders; Mumia, Assata, and Ramsey, among many others. I have deep gratitude to all of you who have supported me. 

Re-igniting this shit

So I haven't looked at this blog page in basically 5 or so years I think. How crazy is that? Blogging is probably super old now since social media let's you upload videos and photos and GIFs to describe how one feels about their life now. But I missed writing. So I decided to try to pick this up again. I do not know who even reads these blogs anymore. I probably need to block some people :) But before doing that I need to get this off my stomach. I am going to start writing again!!

I don't know why self care is so popular . . .

In many activist spaces nowadays, the term "self-care" is thrown around a lot or highlighted or sold to young 20-somethings who are passionate about social justice issues, but still suffer from figuring out how to survive in a capitalist system. Now, self care sounds great, it sounds positive and uplifting and perfectly attainable. But when you have a combination of depression/ anxiety disorder, "self care" sounds like a whole other level of tasks and to-do lists. More importantly, "self care" costs money.

I am working on my own concept of "self care". It combines seeking therapy, which I learned now can really eat away your wallet, so it is really "therapy" in moderation. I now use my therapy sessions in a very tactical way. I have objectives for each session just as we have objectives for each meeting or event in the movement. But damn, objectives for your own life and your own choices, and how you view them, are really really difficult to do.

So, I am trying something else. I will lessen the amount of sessions, and try to balance it out with other things. I am looking into qigong and dance classes again. I went to the gym last night, and even though it was just for an hour, it was different. And it felt good to work out again with mindless tv captions reading on the latest BS politics. Always an appropriate thing to do to stay engaged, but I want to try new things. I finally have the means to try new things! In my own mind I mean, it is a huge win on my part and something I hope I can make last for the next few months or so.

On the note of qigong, dance, and working out: I do miss the peaceful practices I was exposed to in my previous life. I liked the safe feeling that came along with it, even though being in a safe space was a very privileged thing. But I want to find ways to combine the "peaceful" with the "action-oriented agitation" that keeps me going. If I can find a good balance to those two things, I hope to find myself creating a combination of self care that I can work with, rather than feeling guilty for affiliating or practicing one more over the other. Or feeling like I have two separate mindsets or live in two separate lifestyles.

I also cooked this past week. It took time, just as exercising does, and it wasn't for the movement, but it was pretty cool to create something that benefitted me.

With this positive streak in mini-achievements, I had this idea (another for the mental library), to create some kind of blog site or website that highlights organizations that encourage self-care, but also keep in mind real action for communities, and encourage their activists to stay involved with the movement.

I want to create a subpage for that website that focuses on items you can buy, that really do get you cool tools to help with organizing or practicing self care, while providing funds to the movements. I will try to look at it from the perspective of, slowly . . . slowly . . . deconstructing our habits of capitalism. You know? We can slowly take time to spend less money, or at least save it for good things that 1) connect us to local organizations and 2) improve our organizing.

Anyway, I still have to figure out the details to this, but I think it would be really cool to do or highlight. Something different from the hipster versions of simply buying something that was made in a developing country or in the rural countryside. I want to highlight goods that support communities who are actively engaged in their own type of activism and advocacy! It is more than self-sustaining, but it has the capacity to check all the other oppressive systems.

These are just ideas, but I think I am catching on to something . . . and it feels really cool. So while I am working on self care, I hope to remain grounded to the people I fight for and to stay connected to the communities I am growing to love while being here in NYC.

Ultimately, I want the courage to describe my life and lives of others, I want the courage to tell stories again like I used to with my radio show, and to express my political consciousness rather than feeling wrong for it changing all the time or always trying to understand "other perspectives". Even though I think there is value in understanding the mindset of the oppressor, it can get very tiring. And some days I am just angry, justly angry. So, I hope this method will help me deal with that as well.

Just to document.

I feel bad that I only write things on this blog now when im depressed or upset. But that's ok, this is mostly for me anyway, and I need an outlet for this crazy time.

I still feel alone in NYC, and im still waiting for when I will be content with it.

Too many things change too quickly here.  One day the sun is out, the next day its raining. One day I feel happy, and by night im really sad. I just want things to stand still.

I feel more disconnected from my family and friends more than ever, and im not even trying hard to reconnect. There's no point I don't feel like I'm even worth the time, let alone interesting enough to really listen to. Some days I care about the world and everyone in it. Some days I don't care about anyone or I don't want to think about anything.

I love this time of my life for the freedom, yet I hate this time of my life from the loneliness. Its just always changing. I wonder how much longer things will be this way. And I wonder how long I have been this way. 5 years? 5 minutes? Will it feel different 5 seconds from now...

For Red

I have this friend named Red.
He gets sad sometimes.
I wish I could take the blue out of his veins, the purple lines that trace his being, that mark his life.
I would remove the blue. Because im blue too.
Not green, not pink, not yellow...
Blue.

Blue is the color I seek when the subway exits the tunnel.
Blue is the color I open my eyes to at 5am in the morning.
Blue is how I feel when im losing someone I love, or myself.
I have felt the deepest darkest depths of blue.
I have felt the smoothest, richest elements of blue love.
I drank the blood that had not seen air.
The color in my eyes when I'm scared.

You see, I don't mind the blue.
Im friends with it, I know it well.

So why, dear red, do you have so much?
Share it with me, I can handle it all.
I crave that blue, I greet that blue.
And you are so wonderful.
You shouldn't have to carry that blue in your purple vein.

Release it, let me see it, let me love it like I already do.

Because once you do that, once you drain and heal, I will see you.

I will see your Red.
You are my Red.
Give me that blue, so I can have my Red.

Because when you do this, you will inspire me.
You will show me strength.That I know you have.
I will see the strength that I know I have.

And I just need a little inspiration.
And pay attention, to this special life I have made.

You are in it,
And we have a plan.
To sing and dance and write those words.
That have the power to liberate you, me, everyone in sight.

So lets fight. Not just for the rev but for Red.

My red. My blue. That's mine.

This time.

I will say what I feel.

Its not washed out.

See for yourself. When I hug you again.
And tell you we have work to do.
Im ready.

The thing I thought could never happen. Happened.

I tend to lose control of a lot of things, but most of all, I lose control of my confidence in how I live.
I am cynical.
I am mean.
I get angry.
I hurt other people.

But I do not do that all the time.

I lost control of my hopes and my dreams. I lost them.
Or, I let them go.
I let them go because right now, there is no point.

Waking

Waking up in the city. its somewhat overwhelming. The people you are going to meet today might already judge you once you walk through a door. So you should wear something nice. I can think of all the things to make my day more productive.  But lately I cannot deal with stress or the pressure I put on myself. I figured i will always meet people who are more productive and successful than me. Wiser and more ambitious. I fear I have lost my ambition.  My vision of the future used to keep me going. Now I am constantly in the present. It is so regular and plain. Like the walls of my room. Waiting for color.  And for excitement.

But I fail to bring that back.

What the heck am I doing . . .

I am reflecting on all the moments that have brought me to where I am now. Some days I am incredibly happy and proud of everything I have done. Other days I feel kind of depressed that I am unemployed. It is not because I desperately need money or I will be evicted from my apartment or anything like that. But somehow in my mind, finding a kick-ass full time job would equal to me feeling accomplished, successful, etc. etc.

But now, I wonder why so many people have to make sounding unemployed of this nature to be a drag, and consider being "successful" as the key to not screwing up. Where is that pathway to success that everyone is talking about? And does it really lead to success and happiness, or does it lead to more chasing of dreams that are someone else's? Are other people's dreams and ideas of success really visionary or are they equally as exploitative as other dreams or successful people today?

And the weirdest thing, I am having a really difficult time figuring out why I came to New York City. I know it was to build a career, but I had the idea of building a career on a very individualistic and selfish premise. To be honest, I did not really know who I wanted to help, but just knew that I wanted to help someone or some realistic cause that meant something to me, every single day. I wanted something that in the end would not equal to profit or simply an experience, but I wanted something that would have meaning to somebody. Something life-changing? Or, meh, something good in a day.

Recently I started an internship with the an aids health services office. I volunteer time doing outreach in the communities all around NYC. These are primarily in lower-income to middle class neighborhoods or the Bronx, Harlem, and Brooklyn. It is not a full time job, nor is it glamorous by any means. I do not interact with people every day, instead I go to their homes without them expecting me and I hope they are home. Then I hope they answer the door. Then I hope they understand me. And then I hope that they actually need the services. And finally, out of no control of mine whatsoever, I hope they accept the services. Because in my opinion, such services really helped a lot of people. My team and I are responsible for letting them know these services exist, and that they would be served by real people who care.

Honestly, this is hard work. It does not really build any skills professionally, but you certainly learn how to talk to people. I have to learn to be persuasive and outgoing, while come off as someone they can trust. And I have to be able to withstand 3-4 hours of straight walking and riding on the subway. It is not as easy as an office job, and to be honest it is not even more engaging than an office job. But when I got a woman to open the door today and just listen to my message, I felt so relieved. I really hope she does call the number we left her.

The pros to this professionally, I am exposed to public health. All throughout school, people said that public health was in no way a glamorous profession. And I completely understand that now. But I am finding it challenging and a learning experience every day that I engage with it. On the side of this outreach internship, I am continuing my internship with a nurses union. It is also public health, but it is public health policy and advocacy, also grassroots and ont he ground. However, I hope to learn more about the policy side of healthcare through this internship, and I am learning little by little.

Tomorrow, I have an interview with occupational health services. It is a very entry-level job, but at least I will be exposed to new things in public health. My goal is to be exposed to different kinds of public health to see which one fits me the best. And suddenly, I have three different areas within this sector to focus on. And it is really really cool. Then I realize, I am actually doing EXACTLY what I set out in New York to do! It is suprising in how  these opportunities presented themselves, and it is slow in building, but I think I am on the right track. Or at least on some kind of track!

And on the side of course, community organizing with other passionate filipino youth. This is the only thing that is keeping my sanity in such a confusing yet defining time. Without this amazing crew, I would probably have moved back to California by now. But nope, they are dope, so I will stay.

Today, one of the people who did outreach with me, he told me that I need to come to New York with a plan and that I need to stick to it. He said that many people come to NYC to build up their careers and then they leave once they accomplished whatever they came here for. But even then, not many people actually help give back to the real New York. They just come to reap benefits from the city, without caring for the people affected by their business and presence. And so, I hold my presence here in New York not only with gratitude, but also with a sense of social responsibility. So even though some days I have no idea what the heck I am doing, I at least know that everyday I am doing something positive. :)

Things are lookin' up in NYC!

I called my mother last week, in tears because I felt as if transitioning into living in New York, and transitioning out of my life back in California, too many things were familiar yet new at the same time. That scared me because, it is like you are having a bad dream when you wake up in your bedroom but everything has been rotated facing the opposite side of the room. Something is similar and safe of course, but there is still mystery and a huge unknown as to how your mind even created a new space.

Besides that, my mother told me to just think of happy thoughts. She told me that now is the time to really learn how to be alone, and more importantly, how to be alone and how to be happy. I appreciate my mother because she is so patient and kind. She teaches me the hard lessons but she says it in a way that everyone goes through it and I am perfectly fine on my own. She encouraged me to do the things I loved, or have always wanted to do.

The next day I decided to explore the city. I opened up my old list of recommended places to see from my friends. First place was Strand's bookstore. I made it there just fine, and it was really cool to see the old buildings of Union Square. I also found a nice organic coffee place for a cheaper price. The next day, in anticipation of another adventure, I did some job applications first, and then as a reward I went to explore. I got two sweaters from Forever 21 that were on sale (because that always makes spending money feel better). I think I got a bit tired of layering my clothes from Cali, and sweaters really do make a difference! Then the next day, today, I went looking for the Lady M. Boutique something...whatever the reason, I got incredibly lost and ended up 10 streets away from my destination. This has happened at least half the time I go on an adventure in NYC.

So the next best thing is to walk around and find something else. I found an even cheaper bookstore than Strand's, and I decided to get a book that I enjoyed reading on the subway later. Then I purposefully found the steps that Holly Golightly climbed in her depression. The New York Library on 5th Avenue. I absolutely love this place, and I walked in to take touristy pictures. I stumbled upon a public talk for Mary Ann Caw's The Modern Art Cookbook. Everyone sitting in the room looked a bit chubby, or, I dont know I am chubby too in some parts haha. But I could tell, "Cookbook" attracted us shy foodies. And the word "Modern" attracted, well, I would assume people who admire modern art but could never label themselves as Modern. I mean, that is how I feel anyway.

When we sat down and waited as Mary Ann Caws and her guest speakers continued on with their conversation. All they were missing was coffee and a huge glass window in between themselves and the audience. That is just how engaging she is I suppose. The hostess who would moderate the talk started the event - no wait, she ficed her microphone for 5 minutes and then started the event. But it was never really a rushed start to begin with. The powerpoint showed paintings, all featuring foods: fruit, bread, asparagus, eggplant! And everyone on the panel was fascinated by the paintings. The man to the left described the history of the industrialization of food when Campbell's Noodle Soup collection by Woody Allen popped up from the 1963 memory. All of a sudden we talked about America's higher sugar intake, and "how amazing is it that I wish I could go back in time 100 years, just to try the food. It would have signifcantly less sugar but it would be delicious!". What  a great thought, man sitting to the left. I admire his fascination with the timeline of popular food culture.

The man to the right of Mary Ann was even more interesting. His checkered blazer and skunk like hair-color screamed artsy, no, it suggested artistic expertise. And he spoke with fascination towards the artistic. Not the time of it nor the style, but the emotion that a viewer feels from viewing a work of art. He was poetic. One amazing aspect of Mary Ann's cookbook was that she included famous artwork featuring food, Manet to Picasso, and paired them with poetry to Hemingway. They discussed oysters: the rawness of oysters, the luxuriousness of oysters, the smooth finish of oysters, the perfect large size 1 of oysters from the Oyster Bar in France, Hemingway's love of oysters and white wine . . . and it would continue on until the next food: BREAD. BUTTER. PEARS. and then...

THE LEMON. The most perfect lemon.

If I were to here the conversation purely by radio ear, I would think it was a pretty ridiculous conversation. But I was so fascinated by this cookbook, which would come from famous renowned chefs from our history, accompanied by poetry and paintings and life! Wow they really sold it. I could see the picture of what owning the book would feel like. Perhaps I would transport through time and space in my very own kitchen. Or maybe all the emotions and flavors I would hope for in the kitchen would finally be released through the artistic colors and the poetry.

Well, the book costs $40. For me that is pretty steep for a book. But I will definitely look forward to experimenting cooking with it. I expect it should feel like travelling. But not travelling to the tourist attractions. It would be a travel back in time to places that can no longer be there ever again in my present time. How can a book possibly do that?

I guess I will have to find out sometime... but I asked the question of how exactly we are meant to experience Mary Ann's book, 3 years in the making. And she repeated her first sentence: "This was a book meant to be read in the kitchen." And as a perfect closing, the whole audience understood what she was talking about. I was glad to hear positive comments towards question. I left happy, knowing that I helped influence a really great evening conversation.

I bought a cheap baguette and softer bread, took the subway home, and cooked an eggplant omelette. It definitely didnt taste THAT great. I have to remember to get wine next time. All the artists and poets drink wine. I am sure it makes everything taste better.

Reflection on Calls to Action

On CAR, Syria, Palestine, Bangkok, and India . . . 

It is a powerful feeling to demand a call to action from your fellow humanity. It is an urgent crisis that begs you to make that call. It is your fellow humanity alone in high numbers who can multiply those calls to an infinite amount, as long as your are still living and causing the ripple. It is they who will end the crisis, even after your inevitable departure from the world of chaos and comfort. So speak out and organize your numbers, it makes a change every day.

Post-Grad Blues . . .

Yup. I am officially there. 

I thought that being away from Irvine and people I know would make it easier for my to work on my health and redefine my goals and values in life. But this is certainly much more difficult than I thought it would be. I knew this would be a journey and a challenge for me, but when it really happens and I can feel all the emotions associated with it, its a pretty awful repeat of that one scene in 500 Days of Summer when Tom tries to get his shit together. And well, I need to really start doing this.

I realized the only person holding me back is myself, and maybe that simple realization that it has been myself all along will help me get along with any place, and help me adapt to anywhere I dare choose to go. I admit that I know I can be awkward in crowds of three or more people. One person is fine as long as I am in the mood to engage in conversation.

All my other travel experiences in groups have been ok, but I could never get around to acting like myself or saying what I really wanted to say. Almost every other interaction with someone I was still getting to know became increasingly difficult. In Argentina, Honduras, the Middle East. As grateful as I am for having the privileges to travel to where I have been, I often wonder if I would be any different if I did it all over again .  . . would I be more adveturous? More honest? More open and upfront with people? Or would I flat out either make an excuse again that people are just not interesting to talk to, or that I am just awkward?

I don't know but, what I do know is that I need to be more comfortable in my own skin and with myself, and all the embarrassing words and actions that come along with it. I used to think that change was really hard for me to get used to. But I do not think its a change of location as much as it is the changes that happen inside of me.

But I really want to do it.

I want to adapt to New York and become the person I had hoped to be.

I want to be my complete self without inhibiting anything anymore.

I want to feel alive again.

Cheers, Tom.

Reflections on OTI and why it is so Hard to Reflect

**DISCLAIMER: Do not read this blog entry if you hate tangents and blog entries that are free-formed in writing.**

K Thanks...

ENTRY:

I originally started up this blog again 6 months ago to reflect on my trip to Israel and Palestine. I really should have reflected more right after the trip. But I realized, and I am not afraid to say this now, I still do not understand so much about the conflict. No, I am not an expert, nor do I ever hope or wish to be. And yes, me attending the trip to the region amongst a handful of aspiring experts felt like it was for completely selfish reasons. I had originally gone to see through different perspectives, enhance my world view, to discover a different part of the world, its politics, its friends, its enemies, and try to understand why it is such a difficult thing to figure out.

As if I was that middle school kid again who jumped in between 2 older guys fighting in the lunch courtyard while everyone else watched. Many called me crazy for going in, I could have gotten hurt myself. Others said what I did was the right thing to do. Others again felt that I should have just waited for the adults to deal with it.

Is it safe for me to say that I did it completely out of impulse? I didn't even think about it. I just wanted it to stop.

And thus, that weird, uncomfortable, force of habit has now evolved over time and throughout college. It is what pushed me to join the trip. No, it was not the Filipino activist I had told myself over and over about. And no, it was not really to enhance my world view. It was simply because I couldn't help to see people fighting and I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to stop on campus, I wanted it to stop in communities, I wanted it to stop for future kids like me.

NO. This is not pacifist, or whatever political thinkers want to label it. This is not a call for peace either. Peace is an agreement between parties to make ammends. But what I wanted, I wanted to see the truth. I wanted to see the truth as to why things haven't stopped. And I have concluded, we just live in a very toxic world. Sometimes the pursuit of justice is dirty, and its hurtful, and it causes regret in a life that was already so privileged to begin with. And justice does not take sides.

I now completely agree with my own theory that nothing in this world can truly be figured out. Somehow, someone will always lose.

Is it fair to say something so subjective about this trip that I had this privilege to attend? No, no I do not think it is fair at all, it is quite insulting, however, it is the truth and truth has never been fair. Especially to those who hide it or wash it in hopes that it becomes clearer and clearer when really all it does...is make the truth transparent, to the point that is disappears. And one realizes it can no longer be there.

I never believed in facts for this reason. I believe facts can be manipuated by people and politics just as much as stories and myth. So I do not want to ever tell myself that there are limits to what I can do, that a person can only do so much, that the world cannot be fixed by one person.

At night I dream I redefine my world. I alter it, in ways that are manageable until it gets bigger and bigger. This is a choice because I value my life too much and do not want it to be completely consumed. So in my lens, the lens that I wish was bigger after arriving back from the trip, the lens that I had wished would be more open and rational and practical, well my lens saw the following:

1. The people who work in the United Nations are brave, self-fulfilling, working in the confines of a strict political society. They have years of experience and understand people. They have eyes that look tired, held by faces that contort into expressions of hope and promise. They all believe in different things, but do not feel they have enough freedom within their workplace to express such views. They hope at the end of the day they can go home and relax and think about their own everyday problems. They wish they had higher positions. They work hard to earn those higher positions. The reason they do this is because they entered with the hope that they would change the world in their own way. They have learned that the only ones who actually make the big decisions are at the top of the tier. And in order to get to the top of the tier, you have to play the game. The game is difficult. But playing it will get you a higher paying job. So why not.

The people who serve the people of the United Nations, they are different. You look at them, and you do not see the regret that they wish they could do more. You see them as people who hope that they could do more good one day, but in the meantime, until they have the chance to make those big decisions, they will do their jobs well. They will go home and be greatful. They arrive in the morning again and are able to chat with friends over lunch or choose a healthier diet option. They are just grateful to be there, employed. This is the type of person I would strive to be if I ever worked for the UN. Sure, it might be slower to rise in position, and sure it might not create the most change in policy or design, but it is an example of the people who practice self care first. Those are the people who can make meaningul decisions that actually make an impact.

If you have no idea what I am talking about. It's ok, because this is through my own lens. I don't even know what I am talking about. But its best to let it out.

2. The food in Israel and Palestine is delicious. Especially the home-made ones because you know it took hours to make. The times I smiled the most during the entire trip is when I see a meal that was prepared by a mother. This always happened more in a Palestinian home. It is pure love, which means it was sure as hell difficult but you made it anyway because it was not for you. And you knew it was risky but you just hope its good.

3. Anyone during the trip who told us they had lost a loved one, they are ok. But it came with a price. They did their time of suffering that when they tell you their story and you cry, they are immune to reacting to you. Because they tell you the story in hopes that you get it. They expose themselves to help you understand the world. They do not want anyone else to go through that kind of pain. Not even their enemies. They may wish it, but if they really think about it, they wish they would stop thinking about it and just move on. But that would not give their lost love justice.

4. The ocean. Anytime you see it, it is beautiful. And it truly is a pool of tears for what it has seen happen on land. That is why the ocean is so big. It has seen a lot.

5. The cats are hungry too. You don't need to take pictures of them. As you would not take pictures of starving people. It's not cute and neither are the starving cats.

6. Yeah. There is fear. It is in everyone. And people fear each other.

7. There are Israelis who do not give a single second of a thought about Palestinians. There are Palestinians who do not give a single of a second of a thought about Israelis. There are Palestinians and Israelis who do not give fractions of single seconds of thoughts about Ethiopians, the Bedouin, Filipinos, or Americans. And this can be argument enough to explain why there is still conflict in this region, but I guess that is too easy and simple of an answer to those who do give seconds of thought about others besides their own.

8. People never want a simple answer. Or at least, they want an answer that scientifically makes sense to them. People look for follow up questions. But really it doesn't mean anything. We all were never that great of listeners to begin with. So we will pick up bits and pieces and hope we can figure out the rest later, over a series of events, experience, reading articles or the news. You know, we will read about it more later.

9. How old are these olives? Probably centuries old.

10. The Israeli photographer in his small shop carried down from his father, placed in the Old City. He thinks about the past. And he holds on to it because the memory of his father was happiness enough.

11. Civilians look at guns and feel safe. Tourists look at guns and feel afraid. Soldiers look at guns and think "it is pretty awesome that I get to hold this gun".

12. None of the Muslim girls that I exchanged emails with ever emailed me. I never got their emails. Dang it, we totally could have been friends. But its ok because for that brief moment we exchanged stories about dancing hip hop and that was pretty awesome.

Well, these 12 things should be simple and complex enough for one night. I will reflect more appropriately later. It's just, hard to reflect on, you know?

Ok I hit rock bottom

I do not know why, but I have been inhibiting myself from experiencing all that I want to experience in New York. Maybe its the freezing cold temperatures that keep me away? Maybe it's the fear of the unknown.

Whatever it is, I realize that I am officially in that post-grad funk.

For some people it is fantastic, maybe? For others it is depressing? Well I guess I am going through a mixture of both. But then I try to remind myself that I have never had a chance to really be myself in a while. Especially at a big university where everyone on campus is so involved. But now I really want to put it into practice without trying to impress anyone or fit in anywhere.

Its true, college in many ways was like a bigger version of high school. And I never even sought out for an experience like that, it just fell into my lap. Until now only have I begun to realize that there are so many other categories to prioritize than school involvements. Because for me that was all there was for a time there. That was what kept me going or helped me through at the end of the day. Now I have absolutely no idea exactly what to get involved in. Sure I had a bunch of ideas and hopes and aspirations, but maybe some of that was just noise amidst a hyperactive over-stimulating college climate?

Well, I am no longer in college anymore, and I am starting to see more and more of what the real world is like everyday. I want to be humble and I do not want to pretend I am even super independent, a go-getter. Honestly, I have to learn how to that again in a big city, let alone, getting out of my apartment again and being comfortable just being alone. I find myself constantly reminding myself that this was a choice that I made, moving out to NYC with very little friends. And I have to remind myself that I do not know any strangers in that coffee shop, so why am I even worried that people in the coffee shop would judge me for being alone? I have to stop imagining the word "tourist" or "California girl" is stamped in big black letters on my forehead, or pinned to me back for all to see.

After processing it all, I realize that I am good at it though. Being alone and exploring by myself. I used to find a lot of joy and comfort in it. So I am waiting for it to click, for that adventurous spirit to come back. I lost it somewhere between the dream of coming to New York and my present reality. So . . . yeah I guess I will just see, maybe tomorrow will be different.

Post World War 2 apartment lobby

Moving out of dad's old Apartment and into a new one!!

My Big Move to New York

I recently moved to New York to live with my dad.  It is much cheaper to live in the Bronx size the rent is cheaper. At first I felt terrified seeing where we live now. But that's because it was night time. During the day it is quite nice. The children go to school and parents go to work. A working class town. I know it will take some getting used to but I'm glad to be here.

UCI Activities: Fall Quarter Week 6 Update on

This week has been full of spaces and perspectives that I find difficulty making sense of as a whole . . . the hope gained from the interfaith event planning on Tuesday, the communication workshops for freshmen planning on Wednesday, the reminder of the justice movement for human rights in Chile, the New Narratives and its highlights on the reality of where our campus is today. . . I want to work in all of these communities, but most of all I want to connect them together. This is all progress happening in different circles, but I feel these circles do not cross, the good people who work within them do not bridge across. Although Progress in each will have short term success stories, I am concerned that the long term goal of interconnectedness may drift further away. If I am missing anything or am clueless to the bigger picture, please feel free to give me a different perspective. Anyway, I will continue the work in all of these circles so long as others do. I hope we are open enough to work together in the weeks to come. I have a sense of urgency for it. I want to know that others do too.

The latest event on my mind is obviously the New Narratives event. I was actually looking forward to this event. Contrary to belief for some super optimist students at UC Irvine, there are still many students on campus who have no idea about the issues affecting students of color today. I am in no way suprised at this, nor will I ever be surprised because it has always been this way. This level of ignorance. There is no excuse for it. But what I want to do now is work towards educating others as much as possible. Anything that may help. I do not expect everyone to read a book on ethnic studies, I do not expect everyone to understand the immigrant experience, or the undocumented workers and the rights they still do not have. But what I do expect on my end is to continue to hold accountability for others when possible. And to continue to have conversations in understanding other perspectives. As much as my heart longs for advocating my own opinion whole heartedly, I cannot leave everyone else in an unknown. I cannot keep to those who agree with me or support me all the time. Otherwise, I would have no idea how others feel, what fears and worries and life experiences that they have, and how those experiences somehow keep them away from seeing that there are people suffering in this oppressive institution. But one thing I can never ever expect or ask for, is for other people to care. I cannot demand it. I can only hope for it. But what I can demand today and in the future is more transparency between students who disagree, people who share different world views. I can demand that we also learn better ways to communicate with one another. I think this is a very simple tool that can be taught. And it is NECESSARY if we ever want justice on a human level.

PAUSE for Reflection: "Peace" - The Warm, Fuzzy Type

Friends, it seems that I am now wanting to write this blog in tandem with what is currently going on in my life. Sorry I just could not resist, you could skip to the juicier stuff once I write it...

I am currently looking up ways to write a good cover letter, looking for jobs to apply for, if I qualify, things like that . . .Sometimes I tell myself "Common Lauren! Give yourself a boost of confidence! You used to work faster than your own thoughts could even keep up with you!"

I am sorry Me, sometimes I find myself just staring at a computer screen wondering where I should even begin. Deep breaths, the anxiety and frusteration eventually quiet down to some intimate and familiar feeling within myself.... ahhhhh yes, I remember, I used to resort to feeling peaceful.

What makes me feel more peaceful? The first thing that comes to mind is my work with Interfaith.

People from different backgrounds coming together in positive light and warm feelings of accepting one another. That's interfaith. No... understanding and respecting one another...that is true interfatih but in the meantime, the warm fuzzy feeling is implied. One I can revisit in moments of this type of reflection.

Last night, some members of the Olive Tree Initiative and myself attended an Interfaith Harmony community event at a center for a specific faith , the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormonism?), but was accompanied by the good people of the interfaith community (every other religion close by). First step in diversity is filling the room with all sorts of different people. CHECK! Next step: the talking.

Now last night, we had to speak to this room full of different people of different faiths, speaking about religion, response to our current events, and in memory of 9/11 as the U.S. remembers it to be. (I am also happy to report that the speaker from the Islamic Center recognized another 9/11 event (Chile 1973, read it if you wanna know)

 I learned a lot. The event was really quite nice I enjoyed it! They opened with a Taiko drum performance (it felt so powerful, I associated it with warfare, like war drums, but I am sure it is much more than that I am just being a little ignorant). After we all relaxed in confidence ("No. The building won't collapse because of these loud drums . . . let's just feel the rhythm of the beat within our hearts.")  I do not want to go into the specific details of the program, but here is what I learned:

Speaker from the Hindu Mission said:
" . . . the truth is undefinable. You cannot define it. . . . When you have water in the ocean, it gets picked up, and when it goes down, it picks up acid, like us. We pick up other things, but meditation gets us back to who we are. You see the divinity of the whole community, and this process cannot fail."

When he mentioned truth, I remember that a lot of our lessons in the Olive Tree Initiative reflections during the trip. We grappled with the need to understand the truth. What was the truth? And which of the two sides, the Israeli or the Palestinian, possessed the true-truth? I think the ultimate lesson was that there is no True-Truth. Some would even say that the truth does not exist. But hearing this man say that it has no definition, I think I can agree with that even more. Some people define truth as the facts. Some people define truth as their own personal experiences. So how do I define truth?

I cannot. I am still exploring, or I have not figured it out.

Rabbi from the HOAG Memorial Hopsital Presbyterian said:

"make those strangers into our friends."

I am just comforted with this. It makes sense in principle. It is something I try to actively do. Or when this fails, giving the benefit of the doubt, knowing that another person too has hopes and beliefs, that is comforting enough, even if I was afraid of them or intimidated at first. And when this does happen, I try my best to at least get to know them a little bit more. (Then I can judge whether I like them or not)

AND WHEN THAT FAILS:
"I do not have to be friends with everybody. Civil, yes, civil can definitely work. That's co-existence..right?"

Day 2: Washington D.C. (late due to a busy week!)

Sorry for the delay in this post everyone, I realized I had a lot more to reflect on, and a lot more questions. But anyway, here is the start of Day 2 "in this town" of Dear D.C --> that short quote is from EVERYONE in DC:
 
We awoke early for breakfast the next morning. Yes. Breakfast. And more importantly, breakfast that was (included). So in my mind that was practically FREE BREAKFAST. Which means a significantly quicker shower time. Which helps out the environment. I think every hotel should follow this model.

After I talked with the roommates about outfits and what looked professional enough, I went to the lobby for a nice breakfast of orange juice, fruit, eggs and bacon. And pancakes? I don't know maybe I am making that up, but the breakfast was really good. This was officially the first day where we would rush out to the first speaker right after breakfast. Our team captains for the day had some big tasks on their hands and they did an amazing job keeping us all together as much as possible.

Our first meeting was with the United States Institute for Peace. I do not have any pictures to describe to you what it looked like, but I can certainly describe the experience. For the first time, our members pinned on their customized nametags. For the first time, we readied our bags for a thorough security check. For the first time, we discussed what back-up questions we would ask in case nobody in the group could think of a good question fast enough, along with the second and third back-up questions. And for the first time, we readied our notebooks, as I will describe the notes I am about to forward to you now.

Entering USIP was like entering a world of well-organized peace-planning. Sanitized international affairs. A bright marbled floors that echoes the sound of your feet stepping into an important meeting. I thought it was one of the most beautiful interiors I had ever seen. The sun was shining in all the right spots of the building. You feel so important to be there. And you assume you are working with angels of Capitol Hill. That is indeed a lot to be said but, that's what it felt like to step into the building for the first time, for me at least. And we got extra nametags from them that I saved in my notebook! How much more official could it get??

We had two speakers, a man and a woman. I will not disclose any names for now. The woman used to work for the US Academy Training Arm with USIP in 1984. The man was formally a college professor who took students on educational trips to Bosnia, Kosovo, N. Ireland, places like that - including Israel with an Arab-Israeli team. These trips were meant to be educational and promote dialogue overseas in countries experiencing conflict. They spoke to us first, and later we followed with our own questions after their brief introductions.

We asked how we should be viewing the Arab-Israeli conflict. Their advice was to view it as unique, and yet, as not unique. We were also encouraged to know that there were peace-makers out there, just not on our radar. Having independent and nonpartisan conversations would help avoid conflicts internationally.

USIP used to be viewed as a think tank. The vision was to create a world without violence or conflict. The core principles was to engage in civil society, facilitate a dialogue between government and civil societies. The advice was to respect pluralism, diversity, and conflict resolution. They spoke about the process of doing something to be effective. It needs to be done over time, through buildings relationships in a holistic way. One example of this is a civil education project that was done in Iraq. This project took over 4 years. It was based on a curriculum that Iraqis themselves adopted as their own. The people from USIP helped train Iraqis to teach such curriculum themselves.

Further questions were asked . . .
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How do we make these into projects?
It needs to be tailored to local circumstances - it must be inclusive and engage a full range of people to achieve peace, including those who may not have a voice. There needs to be backup modules with monitoring, research, etc. There must also be a commitment to quality.

The woman told us about her path that led her to work for an organization like USIP. She was a US mediator on the federal and community level. She then tranferred into doing work on the international level with her graduate degree in conflict resolution. She spoke about using real dialogue in her work.
What does real dialogue mean?
It is a dialogue of peace, based on a process of peace. Yet it is something more robust and relevant.
An example of a design was to engage students over 7 weeks on social identity and percieved weaknesses. She then sought to introduce dialogue into a classroom to talk about the sensitive issues that would come up. She found ways to make it safe for people to engage in dialogue: Building bridges through intergroup dialogue.

USIP draws from an illicitive model, drawing forth from people. No presentations or lectures but more from and interactive style. They would replicate types of scenarios that people would encounter when working overseas. At a school for professionals that included diplomats, military, NGOs. They used the model that was meant for the professionals to fail in the scenario. So that they could recognize what they have seen before and pay attention and be aware on purpose.

Issues of culture and identity . . .

Rebuilding a country after war . . .
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As you can see there is a lot of information I took from this meeting. I had even more meetings to follow this one, but I must say, this was one of my favorite meetings. Here is why:

Popular opinion in our group found this meeting to be pacifist in nature, and realists would call it an unrealistic approach. I had my suspicions before, as I do for many of the meetings on our trip, however this one is very interesting especially in my upbringing at the UCI Public Health school. Most of the topics and projects that were presented were quite in line with public health practice on a global scale: analyzing the needs, involving the community, encouraging leadership roles on the ground level, creating a sustainable system, and most of all creating an organic atmosphere. (Of course, this does not include their model for professionals seeking more training in international humanitarianism).

Earlier today I had a meeting with a public health administrator. She informed me that most U.S. organizations going abroad to do public health work are greeted with negativity and suspicion as to the real purpose of that organization and their motives. It is funny because, I have always thought about working with an organization like this. However, I wonder if I am willing to accept the limitations that come with working for the United States government in regards to funding, and which issues are focused on the most. A big takeaway from this meeting was that the issues focused on the most tend to be what the US government and international media draw their attention towards the most. If I remember correctly, there even seemed to be an aura  that conflicts in the Middle East were overworked. That more attention needed to be on the Democratic Republic of Congo. That more people were being affected there. And here is the weird part . . .

In public health, there is a question of a need, and a question of "measurable learning outcomes that are more likely to achieve effective results" Because this obviously is better for the organization. In popular public health opinion, the more contained a disaster or a conflict can be, the less numbers involved, creates a higher percentage of people helped. Sometimes I wonder, are peace people like me trying to save as many people as We can, or just trying to save as many people as possible under a budget, limited resources due to political backing, and international law of not engaging with terrorists? The rules themselves can make helping people more difficult. People who had no blame or fault to a conflict or disaster. Yet seem to suffer the most from it.

Soon, we were going to meet with the other side . . .