I have been dreading getting my first flat since I got my bike 9 months ago. I was hoping that I would be able to avoid any nails or sharp objects with my amazing bike skills.  However, it was a humbling reminder that I am not in complete control of my day. It helped me to realize that I need to remain flexible and open to changes that might occur.  It is easy to think that doing the same thing everyday is somehow a given and should be expected.  It also reminded me that even when things don’t go the way I would like them to go there are always people who will help me out.  A flat turned out to be no big deal at all, and with the help of the bike kitchen my routine suffered only a 20 minute delay.

As I process this year, I realize that there will always be staples in the road. Unexpected things happen that we can not control all the time. It might be easy to think that we are in charge, but we simply are not. Luckily, us interns have a supportive environment to help us through the staples in our road. The support of family, friends, and peers can go along way to help when things don’t go according to plan and these support networks are completely worth the time and energy it takes to maintain them.

Joey Courtney, EUIP Intern 2011-12

Assistant to Children’s and Youth Programming,

Salvation Army Alegria

I would really like to think that I am not ‘Jaded’ but its definition (“dull, apathetic, or cynical by experience or excess.”) is something I unfortunately relate with right now. Dullness, cynicism and apathy are all things I’ve experienced while working on skid-row, living in diverse community and missing the comforts of Texas over this year of urban life in Los Angeles. Over the days, weeks, and months of looking Los Angeles’ hurt and struggle in the face, being Jaded sorta seems enticing. Having to talk with someone about where they are going to go at the end of the week when their housing runs is not a fun problem to scramble to solve. Even less pleasant is the conversation where you have to pretty much tell someone you can’t really do much to improve their situation, whatever the dire circumstance is that they’re experience. Skid Row is a grave and overwhelming place for a person to live in. To have conversation after conversation about the conditions of life down here and to see see person after person experience modern, every-day poverty is tough to swallow most days.

Second nature kinda encourages behavior that prevents experiencing hurt, both physical and emotional. Sinking into a Jaded disposition means I wont hurt when I see lives in turmoil and even trickles down into my personal life when I no longer feel remorse when I hurt people. The problem is that not feeling anything for people means that I won’t be able to love them either.

Its easy to be jaded. Easy to be selfish with time. Easy to not consider how I affect others when I make decisions in my personal life. Easy to disconnect from what is really going on around me. That is what I am most challenged by at this point in my year. I can’t chose to protect myself from hurting or feeling pain in this life because feeling it all enables one to really get motivated to change stuff. If I want to love people or be a “light in the darkness;” I have to sacrifice my comfort and allow myself to feel what they feel in order to know how to change things. I have to be in touch with and care about how my actions impact others so that I can truly love, respect and serve people like I am supposed to.

Ryan Guinan, Episcopal Urban Intern 2011-12, working at Chrysalis

I grew up going to church, was baptized, had first communion and was confirmed. I enjoyed the time I spent in my two year long confirmation class; and one could assume I enjoyed learning about the Bible and becoming stronger in my faith through that study. Looking back though, that is not the part I enjoyed the most- in fact I often didn’t do my homework and didn’t read the Bible like I was supposed to. What I enjoyed was the conversations I had with the vicar (a year long intern in seminary). We talked about all sorts of spiritual things including faith and its strong relationship with doubt, do things happen for a reason, and many other very deep conversation.  These conversations were a very important part of my spiritual development and have shaped the way that I find God. Since then I have found God more and more in my interactions with people, in nature and many other ways that do not involve the Bible or church.

So why when I came to EUIP did I expect it to be any different? After all, they say it’s hard for an old dog to learn new tricks- especially when the tricks they know are good ones! So while I have valued the time I have spent in EUIP going to church and interacting with people of different faiths (and learning a lot through my interactions,  having deep conversations and exploring nature with them) I have become stronger in my belief that the way I find God is the “right way” for me and it always will be.

I have realized I do not have to conform to anyone else’s definition of God, nor do they need to agree with mine because God is there for all of, in whatever form we can find him most easily. He wants us to find him/her wherever we can because without it our abilities to love and connect are limited.

Peace all!

Sally Kiss, Episcopal Urban Intern, 2011-12

Neighborhood Youth Association

But who in the world am I to consider what story is “sadder”? And when I think about it, it is even harder for me to acknowledge that when I do this, I am another link in the chain of people my clients come into contact with over the course of their day or week or month who brush them off because they don’t have time or energy to take on any more sadness. When someone is struggling, they need to let the story come forth from time to time. They are asking me for help, not just in feeding their kids, but in taking a few minutes of my day to be present to their story, their anger and their fears. The least I could do is give them that, right?

But some days their stories feel like a burden to me. I feel heavy after listening and I carry all that they have told me on my bike, into my house and wrap these things around me in my bed. I’m doing all I can. I’m doing what I’ve been assigned to do this year: give these people supplemental food so they can make it through the week, hopefully pay the rent and eat a little healthier. But there is so much more needed. And now I share in their stories of sadness and hardship with them. I carry part of the story, even if the weight on me doesn’t help alleviate anything from their own backs, or take away another worry from their own bed.

So in order to be more patient, I have been working on being more willing to give away these stories to the Divine instead of holding them for myself. They are not mine. There’s nothing else I can do with them. Maybe God has something to give, though. It takes a lot of work. I need to prepare myself more fully for the day on the way to work and intentionally give them all away to God on the bus on the way home. Not tune the world out with a book for an hour, like I am used to doing. I am working on introducing more patience and being the ear someone needs when it is asked of me, so that I can help my clients perhaps in more ways than one, but not hold any more weight in my pockets than necessary. I have enough worries and stresses in my own story to take on everyone else’s.

The poet Adrienne Rich passed away on the 28^th of March. She was a feminist and poet, and all around an amazing woman. Here is a quote from one of her poems, “Integrity,” which came to me via a friend’s Facebook page after her death. For those of you more poetically inclined, this is exactly the tension and lesson I have been navigating.

“Anger and tenderness: my selves.
And now I can believe they breathe in me
as angels, not polarities.
Anger and tenderness: the spider’s genius
to spin and weave in the same action
from her own body, anywhere -
even from a broken web.”

- Adrienne Rich

Katy Cashman, Episcopal Urban Intern, 2011-12

Friends in Deed, Ecumenical Council of Pasadena Area Churches

When God called Abraham to test him by commanding the sacrifice of his son, Abraham replied, “Here
I am” (Gen 22:1). When God commanded Jacob in a dream to go back to his homeland, Jacob
responded, “Here I am” (Gen 31:11). When God addressed Moses from the burning bush and told
Moses to lead his people out of slavery in Egypt, Moses answered, “Here I am” (Exodus 3:4). When the
Lord called Samuel to be a prophet, Samuel responded, “Here I am” (1 Sam 3). In the New Testament,
Ananias responded, “Here I am” when the Lord called his name and told him to go outside to meet and
baptize the newly converted Saul/Paul (Acts 9:10).

In each of these instances, the response of “Here I am” came before God gave his commandment,
sometimes even before the responder realized it was God speaking to him. Each time, God simply
called the name of the person to whom he was speaking – “Abraham!”, “Moses, Moses,” etc. Upon
hearing their very own named proclaimed mysteriously, none of them ran away in fear or even
immediately asked who was calling or what He wanted from them. They responded decisively, “Here
I am.” God is God, and He knew the physical location of each of these. I believe their response was an
acknowledgement to themselves that they were in the presence of God and a declaration that God
could use them where they were or wherever He wanted them to go.

I think that sometimes this is what God wants most from us. To respond to his call by presenting
ourselves before him. Too often I find myself trying to figure out what I should do for God. While I do
not think this is bad, more often I need to present myself to God. Simply say to him, “Here I am.”

Here I am. Here I am in Los Angeles serving in the Episcopal Urban Intern Program. Here I am in a house
in Glendale living with and learning from three beautiful women. Here I am working in a charter school
in the San Fernando Valley. Here I am in St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, where there is both more tradition
and more love than I expected. Here I am in this city where I drive through the mountains every day and
the sun is almost always shining. Here I am, so far away from my family and childhood friends whom I
love and miss. Here I am, basking in the glory of God’s plan which I don’t quite know or understand, but
I continue to trust. Here I am. I do not know what God plans for me to do with my future, but I know
where I am now and that God can use me to serve and love others in this place. And I strive to respond
to God’s call with the words of Isaiah: “Here am I! Send me!”

Sarah Rogers

Glendale House

Triumph Charter Academy

I say this because intentional community is no simple feat. The intentionality of it, takes so much effort and planning that it’s almost not worth doing after taking all of the preliminary steps, but without being intentional I don’t think it would happen. I had to fight against the inclinations to be independent and try out this community in order to maintain myself and a stable environment. The best way that my household and I have created a community is to first be intentional and second to not be afraid to try something new.

Take for example this recipe that calls for bacon, buttermilk, brown sugar and careful hands. It’s a delicate balance of salty and sweet and bravery. When I first tried it I was a bit cowardly but I put on my sassy face and dove in. The results; excellent biscuits and a house of full bellies and a memory that we’ll never forget. The elements that go into to it all relate to our community struggles. You have to learn together how different ingredients work, how two things that seemingly shouldn’t “go” together do, and make amazing things, or how too much of something can ruin a dish. I’ve figured that for the most part when you try it works. Not always making for the best, but at very least a learning experience.

It’s through a mélange of personalities, backgrounds, beliefs and a strong rule of life that drives the community in the Glendale house. Let me say that it’s not easy or pretty or smooth most of the time but it’s something that we have all helped to create and it’s the glue that holds us together.

Christina Frazier, EUIP Intern 2011-2012

working at Hillsides Education Center

As I’ve been starting to think about next year and how who I know will have a large effect on where I end up, I have been continually drawn to thinking about how “who I know” has effected and shaped my situations in the past. What I’ve realized is that the saying “Its all about who you know” is ambiguous for a reason. What is all about you know? The answer to that is a lot. For me personally, “who I know” has given me far more than a few job opportunities. “Who I know” has made me the person I am today. I could not have put myself in a position and have had the audacity to apply for and get accepted into a post undergraduate year of service across the country without the people I knew and kept close to me back home. The people I chose to surround myself with (my friends) and even those people who I didn’t choose to surround myself with but were surrounded by anyways (my family) all helped shape and develop me into the Cyrus we all know (and hopefully love) now.

Although I have only been in L.A. for 7 ½ months, the effect the people I’ve been surrounded by here have had on me has been incredible. Although you could argue (and I would agree) that no matter who I was surrounded by this year I would have changed as a person, you can’t argue with fact that the specific individuals that I have been surrounded by this year have changed me for the better. I have been challenged every day by my co-workers, housemates, supervisors, kids and their parents at school and church and have grown more secure in myself and confident in my abilities because of them.

Consider this post a very long thank you letter to everyone who I have had the special pleasure of getting to know and spend time with this year. I am indebted to you all.

Cyrus Allen, Episcopal Urban Intern 2011-12 – working at St. Stephen’s Church and Delaney Wright Fine Arts Preschool

So, now that I’ve explained a little bit about how I make light of my daily 40 minute commute to work, I’ll share the sudden, mind-blowing (for me) realization that I had on one particular morning.

The bus was virtually at its stop in front of the Sonia Sotomayor Learning Academies and I was avidly observing the abundance of trees and flowers growing all around me, the mountains in the distance with homes sprinkled throughout the thick greenery, and even the buildings, cars, and pieces of technology that we use in our everyday lives.  As I looked at all these different elements that make up the physical world, I suddenly recognized that every single one has its own level of aesthetic value, which means that their were individuals who had the vision to create these things.  The thought that followed was almost instinctual because the word “vision” resonated in my mind compelling me to classify it as “artistic vision” in order to further relate it back to myself.  The fact is, I’ve been searching for inspiration to put my artistic vision into focus. So, what happened next astounded me. I felt a convergence between me and all my surroundings.  I came to a very inspiring and encouraging conclusion that has further propagated the growth of my artistic mind.  I realized that God is and was the first, true artist.  He had the artistic vision to create: a world endowed with a picture perfect, canvas-like landscape, a human being equipped with a mind capable of translating his vision here on earth, and a natural environment with the ability to govern itself through interacting with other elements that were created along side it.

Finally, as the bus was approaching its next stop, my final stop, I formulated the statement: I’m an artist created in the image of the Divine Artist.  I reflected on this statement as I made my way onto the school grounds and the feeling within me was one of great assurance and clarity.  I was elated to have made this discovery because it further strengthened the bond that I’ve already begun to fortify with the Lord and I, ultimately, felt that much closer to him and his vision for my life.

As I look back on the year up until this point, I’m thankful for the opportunity to be a part of this program and share this experience with 19 other people who, like me, had no idea what this year was actually going to look like.  This type of commitment has been a testament of faith and courage because of the devotion to service work even though it might not be significantly beneficial to career goals, but instead a benefit for those persons who are on the receiving end of the work being done.  I’d be lying if I said that there haven’t been difficult times as an intern, but I’m telling the truth when I say that, between the support at our host churches, from the program’s directors, and from the space for spiritual growth, I’ve always had individuals whom I could count on to just sit and talk with about anything on my mind.  So, if I were prompted with the question, “Do you feel that you are the same person you were when you arrived in LA?”, I would jokingly laugh and have to respond by asking, “Does a lump of coal remain a lump of coal after being removed from immense heat and pressure?”  In all seriousness though, the person that has written these very words that you are reading at this very moment is not necessarily different from who he was last August.  I’d rather like to say that I’m significantly more developed as a human being, an artist, and a Christian.  I’m very much the same person I was when I began the program; however, I’ve taken the time to create multiple spaces where I can enrich my physical being, expand my mental boundaries, channel my emotional impulses, and appease my spiritual needs.  I’ve been told that the way this program truly works is, what you put in you will get that and so much more out of it.  Well, I made a conscious effort to fully give myself to EUIP so that this would be an amazing year for both parties, so attesting to what I was told, sometimes I stare into the eyes of the man on the other side of the mirror and am amazed that we are one in the same.

For that, I say thank you Episcopal Urban Internship Program.

Brandon Stuart, 2011-12 EUIP Intern

eCALS High school

Listing all these things as what makes 2011 great seems kinda weird right? It seems like a train wreck of a year, huh? Even though I have been stressed, angry, sick and plagued with fear at times, this has been a great year. I graduated college, moved to Los Angeles where I have met tons of great people, been placed in a job that I love and found people who are supporting me through all the rest. This year I have fallen in love with life more than I ever thought possible.

With every challenge comes a piece of joy is the lesson that has been reinforced for me this past year. The things that I thought would be challenged by have not been nearly as hard as I expected; and things I never thought would happen, like ending up in the hospital not knowing what was wrong, have been tougher.

Despite the challenges of this year, each of these experiences has helped me to grow in ways I never thought possible and I thank God for them. We must all remember that each time something bad happens we must look for the good in it. When we do this growth is possible.  Love is possible.

Sally Kiss, Episcopal Urban Intern, 2011-12

Neighborhood Youth Association

“No Casey, don’t think, just do.” A friend told me this and I looked at him like he was crazy, how could I not think? My brain is always analyzing, always trying to figure out the best course of action, the next step, how to manage my health, what I should say, what I shouldn’t say; it’s endless. But I love thinking, it allows me to sort out my problems and understand why I feel the way I feel; analyzing every day has brought me a long way. I’m realizing however that there can be a downfall to this type of thought; it often leads to the land of worry, stress, and inaction. Getting so caught up in thoughts causes loss of focus, when you search for every angle, you always find where you could fail. This can lead directly to feelings of inadequacy, uncertainty and periods of depression; none of which is helpful to success in the “real world”.

I’m understanding that to truly become an adult I must learn to trust myself and my instincts. I believe I know what’s best for myself and my future, and now is the time to put all this thought into action. Transitioning to a “real job” has brought many unforeseen challenges but the more I focus on the present moment and what I must do, instead of worrying about what I’ll have to accomplish later, I’m seeing just how much I can accomplish. We all worry that we’re not following the right path or that we could be doing more, but the reality is that the most we can expect from ourselves is doing our best, whatever that may be, in each moment we experience. With growth comes responsibilities and handling these responsibilities can be tedious and overwhelming, but ultimately supremely rewarding. When you can handle the pressures of life, when you accomplish the seemingly impossible tasks, the reward that is bestowed upon you is magnificent. Getting to that point, where you truly believe, that for yourself anything is possible, is a long road, but trusting that you know how to live your own life the best way you know how is the best compliment to a good and fulfilled life. No one can know how to do everything, but we can all learn how to be our best self.

Casey Robinson

Episcopal Urban Intern – St. Joseph’s Center