Words Are Never Enough: Reflections from Pine Ridge

The wind started shaking my tent at 1:58AM. We had to drop people off at the airport 100 miles away by 4:30AM. It was as if the wind knew, and was acting as Mother Earth’s alarm clock, helping us to take care of what needed to be done.

These are the kinds of things that seem to happen every time we are on Pine Ridge. Energy, spirit and relationships are strong, and it is easier to be present in the moment. Wind announces that it is coming so that you can stop what you are doing and revel in its cooling presence. White cows emerge just as they are inquired about; dogs warn us to prepare for storms in the most remarkable ways – knocking on doors; cars get stuck in mud just in time for us to get out and see remarkable views. The

ever-present nature, the natural beauty of the Rez and the Badlands, weather elements, plants and animals (including horses joining us for dinner) all help us deepen our connection to all that is around us in ways that are not always felt in our daily routines. They are what invite a downpour of rain to become a communal shower, and deeply appreciating a nap in the shade. They are what get people to wake up at 5AM just to watch the sunrise or fall into frequent moments of silence and worship.

Mike Sierra's farm

And there are the remarkable and inspiring people. Shannon Freed, her husband Adam Weasel and his father Gerald Weasel, through their company Earth Tipi, are working to be a demonstration of sustainability in Manderson while also developing a place for people to come together to explore, be a part of, and help build a sense of community. Mike Sierra and his wife and the small farm way off the beaten path in Oglala that is a model of healthy, organic vegetables grown local – something we saw more signs of this year than we have seen in past years. Reva High Horse and her niece and husband Cindy and Dwayne High Horse, carrying on the tradition of the Sundance in a way that, over the course of a few short days, builds deep and lasting relationships – one big family that extends to include all of us who came together, often as strangers or acquaintances, as we explore our own faith, values and traditions while learning those of the Lakota through fellowship, work and stories. Our tasks may not always make sense to us, but we learn to respect their importance to others. Respect is a necessary component of peace and justice work. Through it all, there are also the struggles of addiction, unemployment, and idleness. As one of our members said during our last worship-sharing, this is real life, not the materialistic, frenetic lives we tend to live when we leave the Rez. 

Inside tipi after Meeting for Worship

“Are these the Quakers?” asked one of the leaders of the High Horse Sundance, pointing to the tents that housed 20 of us from a mix of Friends entities that included a private school (Sidwell), a college (Wilmington) and a Monthly Meeting (Downingtown, PA). Mike Gray is the constant Quaker presence, as he has been for over 20 years. Through William Penn Quaker Workcamps, we try to do our part to help maintain that Quaker presence – not just in numbers but in our faith and practice. We are a witness, and our own worship becomes something for others to witness and to participate in, just as we participate in sweats and song. As we heard from a Lakota man who works as a park ranger at Badlands National Park’s Lakota-managed division, we all worship one God, just in different ways. The hospitality expressed at the High Horse Sundance is a testimony to that.

We have now all returned home, with the exception of Mike who will be heading south in a week or

so. We have moved back to beds from nights on the ground, sometimes in tents, sometimes under the stars, or in a few cases, in a tipi. We have washed off most of the dirt that we had become a bit accustomed to (although will likely still find remnants of dirt, grass and bugs in our clothes for a while), and the facial hair we may not otherwise sport is shaved. It is ironic that being so used to not cleaning ourselves can lead to feeling so cleansed. We were wisely counseled by Rosebud elder Charlene to listen to and pursue our dreams and our purpose. Perhaps not being so concerned with earthly things like what to wear and how to look opens way for doing this. Our dreams will be perhaps driven more by our hearts that are now fuller, our love and our tears. We are hopefully more whole, more grounded, more intentional and more respectful as we re-engage our minds to our purpose. We are also challenged to step up our support for the Lakota and other native Americans – whether it is calling on Congress to stop cutting Indian healthcare funds or fully funding Indian colleges (both of which are treaty commitments that continue to be violated), or calling on President Obama to pardon Leonard Peltier before he leaves office in a few months, or directly supporting the work of Earth Tipi or Mike Sierra.

William Penn set out to create the Peaceable Kingdom. We have a long way to go, but we saw glimpses of what is possible the last few weeks. We hope that more F/friends will join us so we can maintain – and perhaps grow – the presence of the Quakers on the ground next summer and in spirit and advocacy throughout the years. 

From July 20 to August 4, William Penn Quaker Workcamps was on Pine Ridge. Many thanks to Mike Gray, Shannon Fried, Adam Weasel, Mike Sierra, Reva High Horse, and Jeff Domenick and Sue McKenna from Downingtown Friends Meeting. And to all who joined us, what a ride! You were all fantastic. Let’s keep it going. More pictures can be seen on William Penn Quaker Workcamps' facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/williampennquakerworkcamps/photos/?tab=album&album_id=293764887644760)

-Brad Ogilvie

Fear of Tears

"I had to turn away. Otherwise, I was going to start crying."

These were the words of a recent WPQW participant who was in DC with her college for an alternative break week. We were taking time for reflection about what insights, experiences, or wisdom they had noticed from their time with us, so far. The activities included participating in Our Daily Bread (a fellowship community breakfast with people from all walks of life, including many who sleep on the streets and in shelters), garden winterization and soil prep for spring planting, and street outreach with people that are homeless.

Among the insights of other folks was the realization, garnered from their 1:1 time with people, that listening to people, simply engaging in conversation, being with people where they are, matters. In this was also the awareness of the fact that mental illness has high co-morbidity with the homeless population, but to really connect we have to have a relationship. Others had reflections that it all can seem overwhelming as we seek answers (I maintain that it is not answers that keep us moving, but the next good question), and that the real work for social justice has to continue in their daily lives, not just as an alternative vacation.

But it was the role of tears where things got real. One student spoke - somewhat apologetically - through her tears about how a homeless woman told her that she and her fellow-students reminded the woman of her own daughters. It brings it home - there are families, loved ones, and whole life stories that remain invisible. Then, there was the statement by the student about needing to turn away from all the stimulus. She said it was overwhelming. I suspect, and we talked about it, that what was overwhelming was not what was going on around her, but what was welling up inside of her, perhaps a mixture of anger, sadness, guilt, disgust, even love, and her all-too-common belief that we should not be emotional. And it is the fear of tears, the sadness, perhaps intellectualized as a sense of weakness, that we seem the most uncomfortable with, and it often leads us to want to flee.

And yet, we need to be with these emotions, fully present not just with our heads but with our hearts, embracing them, not fighting them, if we are truly to engage in the good work of trying to make the world a better place.  We can talk about statistics of poverty, mental illness, health indicators, etc., but as Emma Goldman said, "The demand for equal rights in every vocation of life is just and fair; but after all, the most vital right is to love and be loved." To be loving means being able to laugh and cry. When we turn away from our tears when they naturally occur, we turn away from our emotions, and we turn away from being present with others. But when we let it flow, we strengthen ourselves, become more present and more whole to carry on the good work.

Equality, Race and Grace

I remember a few years ago on a Quaker Workcamp, we were having a conversation about the various colleges that the students on the program were considering attending. One of the young folks mentioned that he would probably go to a prestigious university because his family had a long list of graduates from that school (siblings, parents, grandparents) , even though he might not otherwise have qualified for that university. The conversation turned to the paradox of wanting to work for equality but, at the same time, being a product of and beneficiary of privilege. "Do you think I should not go to that school if I get accepted?", asked the young man. After a moment of reflection, I said that, no, you should not turn down that acceptance but to, instead, commit to trying to balance the equation when in a position of taking action. For example, I mentioned that, when buying a car, perhaps buying a slightly lower costing car, and put that extra money towards a scholarship to support someone else or, if in a position of hiring someone, rather than hiring the candidate with the best education or best suit, consider the one who journeyed the longest to get to the interview.

So as I was recently attending a church service at National Community Church, I listened to Dr. David Anderson giving a powerful sermon about "Gracism" (as the spirit-led counterbalance to "Racism" that he defines as "to think, feel, or act negatively of others because of color, class or culture"). One of his seven points to practicing gracism is "I will consider you." His example was to recognize that a car dealer may offer a better deal to a man than a woman, and we act with grace by doing what we can to correct this by sharing with you my benefits. I think it is essentially what I was trying to articulate on that Workcamp. I also think it would be a great lesson for so many of the private schools we work with - rather than shame privilege, have the conversation about how we can effectively share that privilege with those who do not have it. As Dr. Anderson has listed it, this is identified as "Having Equal Concern".

It is sermons like this that I find amazingly inspirational and challenging. Even though I hear these kinds of sermons at places like NCC, they are what lead me to Quakerism. To practice Gracism is to see that of God in all and truly live that out. Of course, as a gay man, knowing that the founder of this church has been, to put it mildly, less than affirming about gay marriage (sending out the double-message that being gay is a sin, but we are called to be loving, as if my higher purpose is to be straight, as he did on the Kojo Nnamdi Show last year), and "sexual identity and orientation" is glaringly missing in the definition of racism, I cannot go all in here. I think the silence about sexual orientation can perhaps do much harm by continuing exclude truly all people. But having said that, I know that if places like NCC want to truly practice gracism, I'm in for that, knowing that I can still let my life speak and find true joy in the relationships I have formed there, and in that, find more ways to bring that grace to what we strive to bring in our William Penn Quaker Workcamps. Sometimes, being open with the messiness (or 'living in the tension', as if often expressed) really seems to be where life happens.

Prayers for, prayers with, and just praying

"Is it ok if we ask the people we are serving to pray for them?" asked the man on the other end of the line. I had been contacted to set up some service opportunities for people coming to DC on church missions on behalf of his Christian service organization. I paused. In that pause, he asked "do Quakers not do this?" I answered that my silence was not so much about the "prayer", but the "for". It was something I had not ever articulated, but had been struggling with. To pray for people based on assumptions of need because of a perceived condition, even though we did not know them (yet), did not sit easily with me. What I said was that I think it would be great to ask people to join them in prayer, but with an openness that we are praying together, and be open that the person may not want to do this.

The other day, as Pope Francis made his rounds in DC, two things struck me: As he met with John Boehner, he asked Boehner to pray for him. Boehner was floored by the gesture. Usually, in Boehner's view, a person asked the Pope for prayers. (It was with some interest that Boehner resigned the next day). Moments later, the Pope was out on the Capitol porch, asking all people for their prayers, but "if there are among you those who do not believe or cannot pray to send good wishes my way." What a statement of humility.

Over the past year, I have been an infrequent attender of The Theater Church (National Community Church), a non-denominational "rock-n-roll" church. I struggle with some of their theological message, especially when sentiments of "my God will beat your God" or "therefore, you must proclaim Jesus as your savior" show up, usually in the songs. But many of the folks I have met from this church inspire me with their actions. When I was recovering from surgery in 2014, I got calls from some of them and knew they were praying for me. But when I am with any of them, I revel in the opportunity to pray with them - it gives me hope and energy.  And as I listen to the words, I am mindful that, when I was laid low, they did not pray for me, but they prayed that I be comforted through the journey.

Quakers use the term "hold in the Light" often in a way that means the same thing, at least to me, as "say prayers for...".  When someone is clearly ailing to the point that their life circumstances are altered, such as through illness, I get it, although as someone who has been on the receiving end of these prayers, I have been uncomfortable with it. I sometimes think it would be better to pray for strength to make the world a better place, rather than for my recovery. But, more to the point, when we gather in the name of service and/or fellowship, I love the idea of taking time to pray/hold in the light/be thankful with folks. I think it comes from a place of equality - that we are all in this together, rather than suggesting that one has greater "prayer authority" over another.  Furthermore, when we might pray for the betterment of the conditions in which someone lives that are the results of generations of suppression, exploitation and genocide, might we not want to actually pray for forgiveness for living off the fruits of such actions?

These are not easy things, but I suspect that prayers/holding in the light is not meant to be easy. Increasingly, I think praying "for" is too easy, but to be in prayer - and fellowship - with people is really what it's all about.  These things should not be just about providing comfort to the discomforted, but to discomfort the comfortable. May our prayers, holding in the light, or good wishes then be about having the strength to carry on in the face of the hard work to be done.

What can be learned "As Way Opens"

"I never knew that the US violated so many treaties with Indians"
"I learned that Thomas Jefferson brought over many of the invasive plants into Washington DC"
"I learned that we can get more done when we collaborate"
"I learned that gardens help to clean watersheds"
"I learned why Philip's Head screwdrivers are called that" (Thanks, google, for the assist on that one)
"I learned that when rainwater flows off my driveway down the street, it can add to pollution"
"I learned that there is a connection between hunger and violence"
"I learned that William Penn honored his agreements with the Indians, and his sons did not"
"I learned that you don't need to exert a lot of muscle to saw wood"

What do all these statements have in common? They were the comments of 4th grade students from Sidwell Friends School at the conclusion of spending 4 hours together as part of a William Penn Quaker Workcamp. 22 students and 2 teachers joined us on a wet, rainy/snowy, cold day to start what we look to be a growing collaboration that helps strengthen the fabric of the DC community while addressing issues of nutrition and environment and developing service leaders for the next generation.

The plan is to nurture service as an expression of Quakerism while giving the students an opportunity to see how all things are interconnected and how small steps are vital for the big things to happen. Specifically, our starting point was to build shelves that will be used for growing seedlings that will go out into community gardens in the spring, and to start cutting wood that will be used for container gardens in yards throughout DC. We started with a group conversation about some connections between gardens, nutrition and the environment, and how these also can be expressions of the Quaker testimonies. And then we got busy with the work for the next two hours, encouraging the students to give input to how to do things while also learning some basic but important skills critical to effective service (being able to measure, saw, connect). It all went as planned.

But it was what was not planned where some of the real learning happened, as evidenced by the comments above. Few of these were on our list of "learning objectives", but each probably has a deeper imprint and, therefore, longer staying power, because of how it came about: organically, through conversation and curiosity, as way opens, experientially. Many of the points came up as we were working together; others came up in conversations about the various posters and artwork hanging around the house.

This is what I find so wonderful about William Penn Quaker Workcamps: it is not the big things, the meeting with power and tackling the big issues. It is simply creating spaces for these "conversations that matter" to take place, always with a vision of coming together to make the world a better place. It is not what we teach, but that we create opportunities to engage, enquire, question and learn, that matter. It is exciting to see the seeds of this take place with 4th graders. It gives hope for the future, and excitement to see what takes root and grows.

"Outside the Gates": Why Diversity won't come from within

I am currently reading "Disquiet Time: Rants and Reflections on the Good Book", a collection of writings edited by Jennifer Grant and Cathleen Falsani. I know both these women through Wheaton College connections, and find their work inspiring as they reflect the growing convergence of deep faith and social liberalism.

One of the chapters, "Running from 'Healing' to Healing" by Dr. Calenthia Dowdy, is a reflection on Mark 11:17: "Is it not written, 'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations'? But you have made it a den of robbers." Dr. Dowdy writes about her experiences with churches and that she often found more affirmations for her talents and calling in transracial/cross-cultural ministry outside the church. She writes about how churches "loved having me in their congregation, but their objective was to change me - to heal me?- instead of recognizing that we could transform each other in community with one another." She includes a quote from Orlando Costas: "Salvation lies outside the gates of cultural, ideological, political, and socio-economical walls that surround our religious compound and shape the structures of Christendom. It is not a ticket to a privileged spot in God's universe, but rather a freedom for service." She concludes with "We are whole when we are outside the church gate, face-to-face and shoulder to shoulder with the grit and grime of a diverse humanity that, like us, is in need of Christ's healing."

As I move in Quaker circles, I often hear about desires in Friends Meetings and organizations to become more diverse. Dr. Dowdy's writing, for me, affirms that this work is not likely to happen when we-self-segregate in our congregations but out in the world. If we gloss over the word "Christ" in Dowdy's writings (at least those for whom the word does not resonate), and replace the word "Christendom" with "Quakerdom", what pearls of wisdom can Friends take from this that may help us understand why we lack diversity on our benches and pews?

Last fall, I wrote about an experience where I also felt like running - and in fact did run - from a Quaker gathering where diversity and racism was much a topic of discussion but not much of a reality among the gathered (see a blogpost about that here). It might behoove many Friends who are serious about becoming more a part of a fabric of diversity to move away from called meetings that talk about this and instead go out in the name of fellowship and service. At William Penn House, we welcome you to join us almost any day of the week with an opportunity to do this, or perhaps take a break from your Meeting for Worship and congregate with others. Sit with the discomfort of how you choose where you go, and how much race, color, politics and theology influence your decision-making. Mix it up a bit. Become a part of the healing. Isn't that a gift of Quakerism that can only take place when we venture out as Dowdy calls, "face-to-face and shoulder to shoulder with the grit and grime of a diverse humanity"? It's not going to come to us, but it is there for all to embrace.

Quaker Workcamps: After 4 days, change really does happen.

I started participating in Quaker Workcamps about four years ago. I noticed a pattern after having experienced multi-day Workcamps: sometime around the 4th day, something shifted. It has been hard to clearly articulate it, other than to say that the group came together, shifting from being individuals to becoming a community. This was true regardless of location. It wasn't just that we became a community, but the relationships that developed during Workcamps have lasted. Strong bonds have been formed. Previous posts on this site have reflected on this (such as here and here).

Last week, I was taking a class titled "The Whole Brain Child." The instructor, Dr. Tina Bryson, commented on the first day that she is a big fan of week-long summer camps because they give youth an opportunity to open up new neural pathways in the brain, bringing balance and integration to the various parts of the brain, and to form new attachments. She commented that the research shows that all of these things happen within a relatively short period of time - a few days. For the class purposes, we were looking at the implications of this when working in clinical settings with youth and adults for whom neural integration and attachment are not healthy and balanced. For me, there was the added "ah hah!" that this is what I have seen happen on Workcamps.

All of this helps me better understand what it is that happens around that fourth day. As we become more comfortable and familiar with each other and our new surroundings, our brain moves up from the heightened "on alert" state (the amygdala) that is engaged when we are in new situations. Then the real magic happens. Through a series of activities, down time, play time, mindfulness and reflection, various parts of the left and right brain are stimulated as we have week-long conversations about service, social justice, and community. Brain integration takes place. Neural pathways are opened, and new attachments are formed.  The exciting thing is that Dr. Bryson's work and the work of others cited in the class show that these can have lasting positive impact on the mental and physical health of people.

The implications for this are fantastic. To start, there is the issue of how, when we segregate ourselves to be among "like-minded" people, we are likely to be hardening neural pathways that don't allow us to easily see the truths of others or fully engage in life in healthy ways.  For Friends, I see this as a challenge we need to address. If we are to truly believe that there is that of God in All, but we tend to be fairly partisan in our social actions while spending time among like-minded people, our brain does not stay open and integrated, and the emotional amygdala gets activated when we hear discord, leading to a shut-down of higher level thinking. So what we need to do is to more actively engage in experiences that allow us to work through this.

This is where Quaker Workcamps come in - especially the multi-day Workcamps as we run them at William Penn House. We consciously take time to be with people that are on the surface different from us, but do so from a place of equality rather than service (where roles are defined between server and the served). We overcome anxieties by going places we are told are unsafe, and experientially see that things are not as we have been told. This is where the integration starts, and continues as we play, work, reflect, converse, eat and sleep. And then there is the time factor. We take time for these processes to take root and new, lasting relationships to be formed. We do all of this as we look at issues of social, economic and environmental justice.  The next step, as we have started more this year, is to have participants of these programs take on leadership roles - furthering the process of healthy integration and attachment.

None of this is the full explanation of what happens. It does not exclude the possibility that higher powers are at play. It simply brings empirical evidence to validate what we have seen anecdotally and intuitively. But that is huge in our world of skepticism and proven outcomes.  It validates the role that Quaker Workcamps can play in our spiritual formation, outreach, community building and peace/justice work. Most importantly, as we support creativity, critical thinking, collaboration and community, new ideas and actions for a more just peaceful world can emerge. They might not be exactly what we envisioned, but just like when the brain has all aspects engaged utilizing what they do best, the more we can be engaged with others despite our differences, the better off we all will be.

Mindfulness, Simplicity, Fear and Quaker Workcamps

I just finished reading the book "Mindfulness" by Harvard professor Ellen Langer.  The premise is that mindfulness is much more than a meditative state of consciousness; it is an awareness of choices, and that things have different meanings in different contexts.  One of her main themes is that we often live mindlessly, having assumptions about people, places and things because of the way we have been raised.  We can see this in the divisive nature of our culture and the assumptions we make about people with differing opinions.  We see it in the way we are led by polls and community conversations that give limited options, leading us to think these are the only options.  Her research supports that when people are actively engaged and have many options, they are more likely to stay engaged, to be optimistic, to be healthier and to even live longer.

Much of her writing is in sync with what we strive to accomplish with Washington Quaker Workcamps.  We talk often about options and opportunities, instead of problems.  We talk often about the importance of the journey, not the destination.  A guideline is that there are not mistakes, only opportunities to learn.  By walking to places, we encourage practicing mindfulness about our surroundings.  Through reflection and action, we change the context within which we see ourselves in the world.  All of this is intended to create safe spaces for participants - mostly youth - to see the world as one of opportunities to be embraced and for them to see their own gifts in embracing them.

Two common challenges we run into when planning and running Workcamps that are also reflected in Langer's work are fear and control. They usually go hand-in-hand, and the result is that they often lead to more mindlessness rather than mindfulness.  The desire to create and follow a set schedule blocks our ability to engage in what is going on in the moment.  The fear of upsetting parents can lead to limited options of service - revolving around perceived needs or around false senses of security such as only doing service that guarantees nothing bad can happen.  Not only do these limit the experiences and learning opportunities of the participants, I think they are also doing a disservice by not allowing the youth to actively look at options and make (or at least influence) decisions by engaging in the process of weighing factors such as personal hunger and personal risk.  It does not adequately prepare them to deal with these things as they head off to post-high school lives where the supervision is far less.

In 1 Peter 3: 13-22, the message is about not letting fear stop us from doing what is right, but to also have good reasoning for doing what is right.  At Washington Quaker Workcamps, we do not shy away from conversations about the role that fear and control play in guiding daily action, and how these can lead us to be negligent in our responsibilities.  A fear that a teen may hurt him/herself by climbing a ladder or using a power tool does not adequately prepare that youth for when he/she is no longer at home.  Likewise, concerns that a parent might be upset because his/her youth has to wait 2 hours for dinner while preparing food for homeless people is not a reason to avoid the important experiences and lessons about justice and privilege that are at the root of so many service programs, and a fear of being in close proximity to homeless people who may have mental illness should lead to conversations about how we make assumptions about people and things we have not experienced rather than not going to a fellowship breakfast of mostly homeless folks.

The Quaker Testimony of "Simplicity" is one of the ways to break down some of this fear and control.  "Simplicity", in this context, is in the Benedictine tradition of striving to let go of assumptions of what we have been told about other people or places so we can be open to seeing what is with our own eyes.  When we tell people that certain neighborhoods in our own town are unsafe (even though we may send them to places just as unsafe in other cities or countries), we perpetuate closed assumptions rather than open wonder. When we engage with something or place that is new to us, our eyes are open. The right thing to do is to engage, create, collaborate, and inspire curiosity, not to perpetuate fear through assumptions. It is not only right for the benefit of Quaker Workcamp participants, but it is right for bringing greater justice and peace to the world.

The Wisdom of Elders

"What an elder sees sitting, the young can't see standing."  - Gustave Flaubert

April 24, 2014 - Last night, William Penn House hosted a dinner honoring Janie Boyd, a remarkable woman of 84.  I have written about Janie in the past for her inspiring and seemingly tireless work to make sure that people in her community do not go to bed hungry, regardless of whether they are rich or poor, young or old.  She gets out there on the farms to pick greens, organizes food deliveries, and challenges all who cross her path that it is not only criminal but against God's will that we let greed, power and complacency stand in the way of getting readily available and healthy food to the homes of the working poor.  The event last night was great, and the preparation for it had me learning even more about all who have been not just touched, but motivated and inspired - as well as lovingly burned - by her love and faith that we can do better.
This morning, I went to the office to wrap up some loose ends as I prepare to take the rest of the week off. I'm having surgery on my left lung, and the process to get to this point has been a bit of a drag.  But, every step of the way the past few months, Janie has reassured me that all will be fine - that we are in God's hands.  She has been sharp with me about taking care of myself physically as well as emotionally.  At about 10AM, Janie called me to simply state that if I need anything, to let her and the folks at her church know.  More importantly, Janie wanted to let me know that I am loved.
So all day I've been reflecting on how lucky I have been.  The reason?  I have always had elders in my life, and I have mostly been open to hearing their wisdom.  From the late night conversations with my grandmas, all the way to the present, they have been there imparting their wisdom and nurturing my values.  I first heard that God did not put us on this earth to fight not from a Quaker lesson, but from my Presbyterian grandmother as she stopped the car and got out to pull two fighting kids apart that she did not know. I learned that it's important to drop things once in a while and go for a walk or spend time with nature from my grandpa. I learned that late night conversations matter from the many I had with my other grandmother and, in more recent years, from my great aunt, as well as from my first service experience - snow shoveling for a man in his 90's.  The shoveling took 5 minutes; the hot cocoa and cookies and stories took a few hours.
Then, as I journeyed through life with HIV front and center, there was Lois Johnson, always showing that love matters more than anything. Lois had lost a son to AIDS in 1995, and spent much of the rest of her 18 years on this earth doing what she could to make the world of more loving place so people did not have to suffer life in shame or isolation, or from unnecessary disease.  Not only was love the lesson, but that life is not so much about problems but opportunities.  And now there is Janie, and the lessons continue as she imparts her wisdom not just with me but with the youth groups that come to William Penn House.
The lessons of each of these people are a part of who I am now.  They guide so much of my work and life. Their lessons are not separate, but sequential, each one building on and integrating with the previous. My hope is that all people be open to this wisdom that is readily available in people like Janie, Lois and countless others. Wisdom comes from life experiences, and is often found in the humblest of places.  It is out there, to be shared. It is a source of hope in the face of adversity. May we all be so fortunate to find that wisdom in our lives. More importantly, if we truly want to bring justice to the world, I believe we need that loving wisdom to guide us.

-Brad Ogilvie

Reflections on "Emotional Correctness"

In October of 2006, I was preparing to do a workshop on HIV at a Christian high school in Illinois.  My co-presenters were from theologically conservative/evangelical churches.  As tends to happen during election years as this was, social issues are hot topics, and this year, gay rights/marriage was a big one.  As we were nearing the date of our workshop, one of my co-presenters called me and asked if we could have coffee together.  What Tom wanted to tell me was this: during the workshop, he would not bring up the issue of gay marriage, but if he were to be asked his opinion, he wanted to be honest - that he believed that marriage should be for a man and woman, not same-gender couples.  More importantly, Tom wanted me to know that he deeply valued our friendship, and he did not want that to burn our friendship.  It was a very moving moment for me.

I was reminded of this experience this morning as I was watching a Ted Talk given by Sally Kohn. Sally is a columnist who currently appears on Fox News. She's also a liberal.  She's also a lesbian.  The gist of her talk is that we as a society have been focused on political correctness, but what is more important is Emotional Correctness.  She describes emotional correctness as "the tone, the feeling, how we say what we say, the respect it conveys."  She says that political persuasion starts not with ideas and political correctness, but with emotional correctness that builds relationships.  She goes on to give an example of trying to understand and appreciate the feelings of someone who is against immigration reform because he/she longs for life the way it

"used to be" as being emotionally correct.

All of this really resonated with me.  For almost a decade, I worked and lived closely with social and religious conservatives doing HIV/AIDS work.  I saw so much of what Kohn was talking about.  I saw goodness in people and places where I expected Bible thumping and had been taught to expect hatred and ignorance.  Instead, I found respect, friendship and love.  I remember sitting with people who would talk about their beliefs about gay people, for example, that were far from where I am, but we were having conversations, exploring and appreciating the underlying beliefs and our struggles.  I sat with one church group to talk about HIV/AIDS work in Africa.  They expressed concerns about a gay person (me) being at the table.  I said that as long as they did not physically hurt me, we could still work together.  The levity and respect made conversation and action possible.

I also learned to appreciate the role that love plays in peoples' actions.  Once, at a Pentecostal Church, I watched a colleague talk about the challenges of opening doors to gays and lesbians.  Two women in the audience were vocal that it was gays and lesbians who needed to change, not the church. I marveled as my colleague held these women through their anger until it became clear that it was love of their daughter/sister (respectively) and love of their church that were tearing them apart.  It was love, not hate.  This is what I think Kohn is talking about - that we are all human; we all have love.  As she states, we liberals can be very smug and righteous in our political correctness, but this does not necessarily allow for persuasion.

It was during these days that my own faith deepened as I was challenged to articulate what I truly believe.  I was working with people fueled by their faith, and they were curious about mine.  It was then that I started to say that, for me, the core of Quakerism is that there is that of God in all, and ours is to joyfully seek it.  That meant having faith in others' goodness ("respect"), and enthusiastically appreciating that, despite our political and social differences.  It is what continues to be what I strive for in my work and life.

-Brad Ogilvie

Giving Thanks

It's the season of reflection and appreciation.  There is much to be thankful for, so here are a few:

• Janie Boyd.  Her spirit, wisdom and love just about move me to tears when I am with her.  And now she has me hooked on getting out to the farm as often as possible to pick greens in the morning, an amazing way to start the day.
• Rob Farley and Margot Eyring.  The breakfast they host every weekday morning at Capitol Hill Methodist Church humbles me, and the daily reflection often really hits home.
• The American Institute for Urban Psychological Studies, Dr. Grady and Helen Dale.  I met Helen when she was hosting a workshop at William Penn House, and they invited me to speak about HIV and depression at their conference on depression in Baltimore in October.
• The Southeast White House.  Sammy, Scott, Tina, Kathy, Ernest, and everyone who regularly partake in the fellowship lunches - if only the rest of the world could show the hospitality you do, we really could have peace in the world. 
• Brian Rodgers and his vision for a sustainable and healthy community in places many people would rather ignore even exist.  Your wisdom and quiet leadership are a model for all.
• Friends in Pine Ridge, SD, Caretta and Buckhannon, WV.  As I've learned from the High Horse family and the Sundance, annual traditions that are sacred help keep the cycles going.  For me, you are all part of that cycle.  And to Mike Gray - you continue to show what real commitment is.  
• Goodtherapy.org, for the opportunity to hone my clinical skills and to share my passion for integrating HIV prevention into the broader clinical/helping professions.  
• Byron Sandford - for his selfless dedication to doing whatever it takes to keep William Penn House going.  And to Josh, Ana and Allison - you've been great this fall during a busy transition.  
• Katy Swalwell (author of "Educating Activist Allies"), whose academic research has been affirming the spirit of how we have been developing Workcamps intuitively.  I look forward to an exciting future together.
• All the Workcamp participants, especially those who humble me with your on-going friendship and continued participation.  For the youth among you - especially those who take time to really question what difference we can make - you give hope for a bright future.  
• People I've met in Kenya, Israel and Palestine.  You remind me that we are all in this together, and I hope to continue to be an ally and friend as we struggle together to bring peace and health to our families everywhere.    
• There is also my family (Walter, mom, dad, sis, bros, steps, halves) - you mean the world to me and know how to keep me in my place, even when I don't want to be there.  And to "all my relations" - past and present - you are always with me.  
• Dogs.  Doesn't matter whether I've met you or not, you embody all that is good - love, play, being in the moment.    

These are the reasons I wake up in the morning with enthusiasm and anticipation.  You affirm my Franciscan/Benedictine/Quaker belief that when we seek the goodness in others, stay open to listening and understanding others, connect with a loving heart, and stay committed to a more peaceful world, it just might be possible.  From the bottom of my heart, thanks!

Brad Ogilvie

Reflections with Bonhoeffer

Sometime in the last year, I started reading a daily reflection with writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  I had read portions of some of his books, but he is very heavy and I find it hard to digest too much at one time, so this book has been great.  Just small but often heavy doses once a day.  What I have also found helpful, as I read some of his writings, is that since I do not consider myself a trinitarian Christian as he clearly is, that by secularizing his language I find his message more accessible.  The basic translation I find helpful  - and I hope still keep with the spirit of his writings, given his messages of inclusiveness, love and humility - is to consider "Christian communities" as "loving communities", "Christian service" as "loving service", and so on.  My belief is that God is a loving God, and our calling is to be loving people towards all, so it works for me.

Periodically, in this blog space, I'll be putting a writing of his that moves me and seems applicable to the work of William Penn House and Quaker Workcamps.  Yesterday's message was one such message, especially as it was a day that we were doing a few hours of service with students from Baltimore Friends School.

"The basis of all pneumatic, or spiritual reality, is the clear call to love and to live with grace.  At the foundation of all psychic, or emotional reality are the dark, impenetrable urges and desires of the human soul - the ego. The basis of spiritual community is truth; the basis of emotional community is desire.  The essence of spiritual community is light. For 'God is light, and in God there is no darkness at all' (1 John 1:5); and 'if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another' (1 John 1:7).  The essence of emotional, self-centered community is darkness, 'for it is from within, from the human heart, that egotistical intentions come' (Mark 7:21).  It is the deep night that spreads over the sources of all human activity, over even all noble and devout impulses.  Spiritual community is the community of those who are called by love and grace; emotional community is the community of pious souls.  The bright love of service, fellowship and grace lives in the spiritual community; the dark love of pious-impious urges burns in the self-centered community.  In the former, there is ordered, loving service; in the latter, disordered desire for pleasure.  In the former, there is humble submission one to another; in the latter, humble, yet haughty subjection of other people to one's own desire."

Mrs. Janey Boyd: A model of mercy in our midst

Over the past few years, I have had the opportunity to connect with Janey Boyd.  Janey is in her mid-80's, a long-time DC resident (over 60 years), and has been in food justice work going back to the Kennedy administration.  Our connection has been through the Mid-Atlantic Gleaning Network where she helps get crops from fields to poor families of all ages  We share a belief that when we work together, we can solve the world's problems better than when we myopically choose sides or focus on single issues.  She is the kind of person who breezily says children can't learn in schools if they don't get proper nutrition, which is why we can't let those good foods on the farms go to rot, but instead get them into the stomachs.  This sums up our work together.

Mrs. Boyd with Harford Friends School

Despite knowing her over these two years, it was only this past month that I got to personally meet her.  All previous communications had been by phone.  Last week, with a Workcamp group from Franklin, TN, we went twice to her house to drop off fresh collared greens and kale that we had gleaned from a local farm, and I stood in awe as Mrs. Boyd connected with the kids with her message of love, hope and justice.  Her commitment for speaking truth was on display as she told stories of confronting aldermen and judges on elder-care issues, and at the same time motioning for a car to slow down in her alley ("I'm not waving at you, I'm telling you to slow down", she said Friday afternoon as a car drove by).

This morning, I read this in my daily Bonhoefer:

The Merciful

"Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy."

These persons without possessions, these strangers on earth, these powerless people, these sinners, these followers of Jesus, have in their life with him renounced their own dignity, for they are compassionate.  As if their own needs and their own poverty were not enough, they take upon themselves the needs and humiliation and sin of strangers.  They have an irresistible love for the down-trodden, the sick, the wretched, the degraded, the oppressed, for those who suffer unjustly, for the outcast, for all who are tortured with anxiety.  They go out and seek all who are enmeshed in the toils of sin and guilt.  No distress is too great, no sin too appalling for their compassion...They will be found consorting with publicans and sinners, careless of the shame they incur thereby.  In order that they may be compassionate they cast away the most priceless treasure of human life, their personal dignity and honor.  For the only honor and dignity they know is their Lord's mercy, to which they owe their very lives.

- from A Testament to Freedom 315-316

This sums up Janey Boyd to me.  From her planting of seedling tomatoes to give away, to her connecting people to service and food, to her speaking her truth to the most powerful, she inspires me.  She is a woman of limited financial means, but endless energy and love that she gladly shares with any and all. I am honored to know her and to share her with others.  May she inspire more to be as merciful as she is.   

Reflections from West Virginia: Energy, Army and Opportunity

Last week, Washington Quaker Workcamps led the annual Sidwell Friends School Workcamp to Caretta, WV to work with Big Creek People in Action, partnering once again with the great folks from Upshur Helping Hands from Buckhannon, WV.

 It was another great week of fun, fellowship, hard work, community-building, deep conversations, love, and learning - all the things that create opportunities for on-going bridge-building across economics, faiths, and geography as we do what we can to promote global community visions and action that belie notions of socio-poltical-economic "bubbles" that really do not exist.

As with all Workcamps, each person has a different experience, high point, or takeaway.  One of the biggest ones for me this year is this:

One evening, Chester Ball made his annual visit to perform, entertain and engage the group in music, games and dance.  This year, he brought with  

him three teens and one pre-teen.  The teens played guitar and sang with Chester - part of his way of preserving a music tradition from this troubled region while nurturing positive activities for youth.  At one point during the evening, I sat with the teens to thank them for coming and to learn more about them.  When asked about post-high school goals, the female among the teens stated she planned to go to cosmetology school.  The males all stated that they planned to either work "in coal" or join the Marines.  I asked whether they wanted to go to the Academy or enlisted; they all said they wanted to go enlisted so they could get to the front lines fully armed and ready to fight.  Coal or Army.  That was it as far as options.  College is prohibitive because of rising costs as well as the fact that they live in a community that does not nurture the pursuit of higher education.    

As I engaged with fellow program participants in sharing this conversation, it led to even more conversations. The wonderful thing about conversations as opposed to arguments and debates is that conversations seem to lead to new insights.  One such insight I had was the irony that, in the circles I tend to float in, there is a unified sense that coal and the military are bad.  The military often is engaged in fights to protect and acquire

Testing a coal tram

fossil fuels (notably, oil), and what we need to be doing is steering people to careers in sustainable and renewable energy.  The ironic part is that the military is starting to step up in a big way in developing alternative energies, with the goal of having 50% of its energy come from sustainable/renewable sources by 2025.  

It's a dilemma.  We want to be a part of creating opportunities as well as supporting people in following their leadings.  At the same time we know that better stewardship of human and natural resources is vital to a healthy world.  For these young men, their leadings right now are to coal and/or the military.  When it comes to renewable energy, we know that coal is not the way, but the military does open that door.  I don't see easy answers, but if I did, then it would not be a dilemma.  I do find that these Workcamp experiences create opportunities to become more open to creating a safe space and talking about the issues rather than choosing sides and fueling partisanship.  Last week affirmed that.  

Workcamps, 2013: Breaking Barriers, Nurturing Leaders

As we get ready to shift into high gear with the summer Workcamps and programs, I have also been reflecting on ways to integrate new ideas and opportunities so that we do not fall into a rut of relying on a template, but instead keep things new and fresh.

For starters, I am ever-more convinced that the responsibility that comes with planning and running service programs is to not just meet the expectations of participants (i.e. to feel good about making a difference, or understand a social injustice better), but to also challenge these expectations in a way that promotes thinking critically about what kind of world they envision and what else they can do in their lives to move closer to that vision.  It is in this kind of conversation that we talk about the importance of relationships - you don't create your vision of the world that includes others without including them in the conversation and the creation of that world - and about the role that privilege and responsibility have in social justice work.

In addition to these "continuing revelation" conversations, here at William Penn House we have an added dimension of progress this summer: we are focusing a concerted effort on nurturing the leaders of the next generation in leading these conversations.  Our summer intern, Nate Anderson-Stahl, joined us last summer for 2 weeks on Pine Ridge.  Prior to that, he had attended Baltimore Yearly Meeting summer camps and the teen adventure program.  Now he will be applying his knowledge and experience of Quakerism, Quaker process and Workcamps to developing and leading them as part of our team. In addition, we have three rising seniors from a DC-prep school who will be joining us for 2 weeks in late July.  The first week will be to experientially learn about Workcamps, the kinds of service we do in DC, the importance of relationships in doing service (I often think that, without a relationship, there usually is not service), how things are connected, and the importance of critically thinking and questioning things.  The second week, these students will then be leading the process for a Workcamp group coming to DC and, hopefully, taking the relations they establish with them to their school, bringing a new dynamic of service and opportunities with them.

It is always an honor to be able to work with the leaders of tomorrow.  My hope is that this summer will be the start of breaking down the compartmentalization we sometimes create around programs and issues, as we weave more connections into the fabric of community.  One vision: to create a flow where youth who have been introduced to Quaker ideals (in schools, Meetings and/or camps) and had an opportunity to practice them in a larger arena (Workcamps), become the farm system for Workcamp organizers, creators and leaders where they get to experience facilitating visioning and implementation built on relationships, and then take these experiences into the rest of their lives with greater consciousness of stewardship, compassion and persistent hope that overcomes the frustrations and disappointments that are sure to be there as well.  This is something I have been envisioning for the past few years; this year is looking like it is starting to take root.  As with all things, patience and perserverance seem to pay off, but now the real work begins.  

-Brad Ogilvie

From "I'm Shy" to "Let's Dance" in 60 Seconds

Last week, we hosted two separate groups for a day of Workcamps.  One group was made up of 12 students from China who had just graduated high school there and were part of a cultural exchange program before heading to college (some in the US, but most back in China).  This group arrived early and headed out to work on the beginnings of a project to turn a neglected bit of land into a healthy community space with a tiered rain garden, community garden and basketball court (this will be a project we will be a part of for the next few years).

The other group, from Harford Friends School in MD, consisted of the entire 8th grade class (all six of them), their Head of School, and one of the parents.  They proceeded to go from William Penn House to assist a remarkable woman, Janey Boyd, who has been addressing the problems of hunger in DC since the 1950's. Their work this day was to help unload food that had been gleaned from a local farm and package it for families to pick up at the school where the truck met the group, illustrating the fact that there is good nutritional and fresh food available if we can just get folks to help get it from farm to table.

When it came time to consider what to do for dinner, I thought of simplifying things by having the groups share dinner.  I was a bit unsure how this would play out.  There were differences in both age and culture, as well as language.  But these groups were sharing the house for the night, and Community is one of the testimonies that guides our work at William Penn House, so let's just have faith in it, I thought.
At first, it looked like the groups were going to share food, but sit separately.  I encouraged the Harford students to split in two groups at the tables we have.

"I'm shy" was the immediate response of one of the students, but they took the suggestion anyway.  Within minutes, what was a quiet room with the exception of some subdued Chinese language conversations became a boisterous room as people talked about everything from video games to dance.  The energy and spirit lifted as folks became aware of how much we are not separated by our nations, culture and language, but by how much we are united by our humanity.  I remember in particular, the "shy" student who is a dancer reveling in how she connected with one of the Chinese students who has a passion for dancing as well, and how she really wished she could see him dance.

I know this is just one meal, and who knows what impact it will have.  I do know that transcending one's fear, stepping out of one's comfort zone, and having a wonderful experience can be the building block for doing more of this.  Perhaps one day, the dancers will share that dance.

Focus on Material Resources Ignores the Untapped Resource of Compassion

We live in a world that is interconnected.  This is a readily-acknowledged sentiment. From the Christian belief that we are all a part of the body of Christ to the secular understanding that everything from poverty to disease to environment connected, we have many ways to engage in conversation about this largely agreeable fact.  But turning this conversation to unified action is very difficult.  Why?

Because live in a world where attempts to address issues, bring solutions and bring justice are compartmentalized.  Most non-profits focus on specific causes and needs, segregated by income, race, geography, or disease.  The fact that our world is interconnected with each part effecting the other seems to fall by the wayside.  Many of these well-meaning efforts are also deeply entrenched in a bureaucracy that is rigid, resistant to change and is more focused on institutional survival than mission-completion.

I was talking recently with folks about the kind of service and activism we engage in here at William Penn House.  It is always difficult to articulate exactly what we do here in familiar vernacular because we are not focused on one issue or another.  We truly believe that everything is interconnected.  We view our role as nurturing greater consciousness. A few years ago, we embraced the term "radical hospitality" to define our work.  It fits nicely with our belief that there is that of God/goodness in all, and as we build relations based on this deep faith in each other, good things and a more peaceful world emerge.  What this also does is affirm another aspect of a fairly universal belief: all people have  But in the world of social justice and social service with countless compelling issues, especially in a town that has hundreds if not thousands of cause organizations, it can feel isolating.

We also live in a world of finite resources.  The waters that flow around us now are the same waters that have flowed since the dawn of time, albeit now much more toxic and yet needing to nourish more people than ever.  Our capacity to absorb garbage is seriously limited.  The fossil fuels that take thousands of years to create are being depleted within decades.  We also work against ourselves with health issues - making healthcare extremely expensive while supporting unhealthy nutrition and health habits, and not using all the resources (such as self-testing for HIV) to encourage people to do for themselves what they can, instead fostering a dependency on others.  We basically keep going back to this notion that we have endless pockets of material reserves, that we can talk about the needs magically meeting the needs of others while continuing with our own over-consumption.

But there is a resource that is unlimited - our capacity to care for and love each other, and to do so with at least an effort of grace, rather than ego.   In attempting to live this way, I have also learned to appreciate a Jewish way of doing things that is build on concentric circles: we start in our immediate surroundings, tendign to the things closest to us (such as the environmental work in our backyard, being in fellowship at Capitol Hill Methodist Church's morning breakfast with many who are unhoused) and going out from there, never ending but not starting with a vision fixed on a far-away place that ignores those around us.

In doing this, we really see how it all is interconnected.  Tapping into these limitless resources of compassion that is good work, even if it does feel lonely at times in a society where material things continue to be the idols of worship.