By Becca Harvey, ’11
I set out to write this to let you know about my recent advocacy adventures. (I thought you would be pleased!)
One of my guests here at Casa Vides in El Paso, TX has recently won political asylum, but immigration didn’t give her an I-94 (a type of visa that is used as an ID for legal immigrants). It’s caused a ton of problems for her getting public benefits, but also just trying to function without a legal ID. She’s not the first asylee we have seen come through without this paperwork. So, I set up an appointment with Congressman Reyes’ office.
Because of my work on advocacy team and my experiences at Creighton, I felt very comfortable doing this, wasn’t nervous at all for the appointment, and was able to prep the guest on what to expect. I gathered resources, wrote up a summary letter to leave with the aid, and went to the meeting.
The meeting was this afternoon. I think it went really well, and I hope the aid/congressman can help this specific guest attain an I-94, but also address the bigger systemic issue. It was refreshing for me to meet with a democratic representative, as she was sympathetic rather than antagonistic.
Being part of advocacy team prepared me for this experience, and I wanted to thank you!
The CCSJ blogs are meant to be a place for Creighton students, faculty, staff, alumni/ae, and friends to reflect on their experiences with programs sponsored by the office or related to its mission. The views expressed in these reflections, and all other blogs found on or linked to from this website, are those of the individual authors and are not necessarily those of Creighton University, the Creighton Center for Service and Justice (CCSJ), or any of the University’s affiliates. The University and the CCSJ are not responsible for the actions, content, accuracy, or opinions expressed in these blogs.
By Mary Henneberry, Winter 2011 Graduate
Virginia (Ginny) Michel, New Avenues For Youth, Portland, OR
A few days before my birthday I was running home quickly after dinner to let my family know that there was a Baile (or dance) that night. I promptly went to go and change from my sweaty clinic clothes into something mildly less grimy when Eva asked me if I had anything to wear to the dance. I replied (in less than perfect Spanish) that I was looking and would love it if she could help me find something. She came in and I held up a plain green tank top I had worn a few days before. Instead of commenting yes or no she immediately swatted the shirt out of my hands and rattled off a series of staccato Spanish words while exiting the room. I stood rooted to the spot trying to think back at the awkward Spanish I had spat out and seriously wondering if I had said something insulting. Before I had too much time to evaluate my circumstances, Eva was back with a dainty floral gift bag in her hands. She handed it to me and told me it was for my birthday. While thinking it was incredibly sweet, unnecessary, and unexpected of her to be giving me any kind of present when her and her family had so willingly opened their hearts and home to me, I opened my gift and pulled out the most bright and bedazzled shirt I had ever seen in my life. As ridiculous as my life seemed in that moment all I could manage to do was cry and tell her how it was the best present I had ever received and I could not wait to wear it. The first statement I met with my whole heart, never in my life had I experienced such unselfish love. My mother, who’s family is in a state of poverty even by Dominican standards, found the time and the resources to buy me a gift and I am still overwhelmed by this action. My second statement, that I could not wait to wear it, pulled me back to the realization that I would in fact be wearing this shirt to our community dance that night and there would be no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I quickly changed into my new garment and did a a quick fashion show for my parents. I felt ridiculous but they were so pleased and I was so caught up in the joy of the moment that there was no need to care.
I spent five weeks with five other incredible volunteers, four amazing Daughters of Charity, one compassionate Vincentian priest, hundreds of wonderfully enthusiastic and loving students, and a beautiful, hospitable city. We did our best to teach English (the language of instruction in secondary education in Ethiopia). I taught in a very, VERY small classroom in a brand new school located in Tulema. Tulema is a “leprosy village” in Jimma. It is a place that the Daughters of Charity secured for the hundreds of people whose families have been affected by leprosy. The Daughters have helped them build homes, gain livelihoods, and participate in a top quality Montesorri kindergarten program at a school in Tulema (education is a top priority for all of the families — parents and siblings will do everything in their power to help their children get a good education). Prior to the establishment of Tulema, people who had leprosy and their families were living in the Catholic cemetery, as they were designated “the living dead.” Though there are only four or five active cases of leprosy in Tulema, and the disease is completely contained, the children and grandchildren of those who have and had leprosy are still ostracized. Everyone who is able in Tulema, including children, do all that they can to earn money to make a living. I would regularly see my students selling tissues and chewing gum or shining shoes on the streets outside of class time. Despite their concerted efforts, many, if not all, of the families are struggling to meet their basic needs. On top of all this, HIV/AIDS is devestating this community, as it is in so many communities in Africa and around the world.
“Today was our last day of classes in Tulema. We decided to do a short review of what we had learned and to take our pictures together. After class, we had a coffee ceremony held by a few of Krissy’s 5th graders. Apparently they wanted to give us something, so Sr. Tsige suggested a coffee ceremony. They pooled their money to purchase the bunna (coffee), dabo (bread), and a small amount of candy, popcorn, and animal cracker-like cookies. Two of the girls wore their feast day dresses. We all gathered around as they finished the preparations and began to serve (with their ever-present, unbounded, famous Ethiopian hospitality).
