A Reflection on "The Inner Life of Rebellion" by Mariana Perez, ABSL Coordinator for Languages, Literature & Arts

At our staff retreat last weekend, Evans and Jess explained our staff covenant to the spring semester newcomers, including myself. Influential to the writing of the covenant was the poem "With That Moon Language." The next day we listened to a podcast entitled The Inner Life of Rebellion. The following is a reflection on that podcast, our staff covenant, the poem and the warm conversation that ensued.

I’m still holding on to the idea of balancing talking and listening.

One of the speakers said that we all have a voice worth speaking, and things worth saying.

A voice worth speaking, things worth saying.


I was taught to listen and learn, which is good. But I think that at some point, I, we, also need to speak. A voice worth speaking, things worth saying.


 Worth speaking, worth saying. Worth. Value.


It’s not just that we should say something, or that it is a duty to stand up and speak up, although sometimes it is. The emphasis is that what we have to say has value, we have value, worth.

The first conscious instance that I felt frustrated with not saying something was at work. In the summer, I work as a nursing assistant in a nursing home. Well, it’s not the best place to work. I love my job, I love working with the residents. But working with co-workers is difficult. And the nurses smoke a lot. They drink a lot of Mt. Dew. They’re not very nice. And no one (that works there) sees this as a problem. I mean, they do, but they also see it as something that just is. That’s how things are done. That’s just how things are.

It feels like the people that are actually trying to do their job well, treating residents with respect, dignity, are the ones that get screwed over. Respect, dignity, that doesn’t get residents to the dining hall on time. It doesn’t get them to bed “on time.”

And it seems that it’s like that for a lot of things. People that work “efficiently” without necessarily taking the time to think, to listen, to weigh, to question, are the ones that have the louder voice.


It’s hard to compete with that. But I think that it’s possible. And necessary.

Because we have a voice worth speaking, and things worth saying.

I, and people that question, should not shrink away from the fact that we question. It should be acknowledged and embraced. And I think that we, I, should be the first to do the acknowledging and the embracing.

I also think that this posture

A voice worth speaking, and things worth saying

is what is behind moon eyes.


There is chutzpah, and idealism, with having this perspective. Some would interpret this as naivete, greenness, inexperience. But mostly naivete, I think. Such silly hopes, to think you can create systemic change. To think you can keep the Sabbath. To think you can sustain your “idealism.” To think you make a difference. To think that what you are doing matters. To think you can be happy.

Such silly hopes, to think you can get from the bad simple, through the complexity, and to the good simple, to the wholeness.


I’m not even talking specifics yet. I’m not even being “excruciatingly specific” yet. [Insert your own hope here]. I’m just talking about the concept itself, the concept of moon eyes. We are met with so much more resistance, so much more criticism, when we actually do what we’re talking about.

But we shouldn’t shrink away from this. We shouldn’t shrink away from the criticism because then we get screwed over (perhaps this phrasing is not quite right...it creates too much of an us-them dynamic. But, I’m speaking generally, without the nuances of a specific situation, so I’ll keep it).

We shouldn’t shrink away from the criticism becausewe have a voice worth speaking, and things worth saying.

Believing this, and knowing this is true, is what characterizes an inner life of rebellion. And, hopefully, eventually, an outer life of rebellion, too.

I have a voice worth speaking, and things worth saying.

I.

The power of one. That’s another thing. Recognizing the power of one is part of inner rebellion. I mean, squirrels prevented humans from domesticating oak trees. That’s just kind of incredible!

But with the chutzpah, there has to be humility. And this balance is so hard.

But community makes it a lot easier. It diffuses the weight of the high and mighty labels of humility and rebelliousness.

Which brings me to another point: labels. This was mentioned in the podcast briefly, how labels are dangerous. I agree. What is interesting is that what is considered “rebellion” is simply how things should be. We talked about this. Martin Luther King Jr. can be labeled as being rebellious. But what he demanded for a people, the hope that he had, that’s how things should have been! Jesus was countercultural, he was a rebel. But what he lived and preached is how things should be!

We can’t put too much weight on labels. We can’t make them be too special. We can’t paint the thing (rebellion, truth, honesty, humility, whatever else) to be so rare that it seems exotic to us. We can acknowledge that the thing is rare, but we also have to acknowledge that it is ordinary. Rare-exotic is bad. Rare-ordinary is good. Rare-exotic is distancing and alienating and othering. Rare-ordinary acknowledges that something is not very common, but also that it should be common, and that is why it is ordinary. It’s how things should be.

So. I have a voice worth speaking, and things worth saying. Moon eyes. Chutzpah. Rebellion. Squirrels. Humility. Community. Labels. More humility. And I’ll throw in more community, too.

An Introduction: GR Walks

[Author's Note: Last semester, I was asked to write an introduction to the work that I do in the S-LC. Later, we decided it might be a helpful piece for the blog--so here it is.]

Hi, my name is Maaike Mudde and I'm a sophomore at Calvin studying psychology. In the S-LC, I help with the development of the phone application, GR Walks. 

So what is GR Walks?

First, let's back up. It is 2013, my senior year of high school. While making my college decision, I was perusing the Calvin website. I came across an article about GR Walks, a smart phone app featuring self-guided walking tours of Grand Rapids neighborhoods. I read about such names as Josh Leo, Noah Kruis, and the Service-Learning Center.

I remember thinking that GR Walks was really cool.

Fast forward. It's a year later, and I'm a freshman at Calvin and working in the S-LC. In the office, we were talking about the jobs that students could do for next year, and Noah mentioned GR Walks. I jumped at the idea. 

On the GR Walks website (http://grwalks.com/), Josh Leo, the founder of the app and alumnus of Calvin, wrote the following: "GR Walks all started with an idea in 2010 for an easy way to walk around the city and learn about what you were seeing." In his travels, Leo had experienced audio tours in Europe and wondered if he could create something similar for the city of Grand Rapids.

From the beginning, Leo was looking for help with the project, and found a partnership with Noah Kruis, associate director of our Service-Learning Center. To help with the app, Noah has secured grant money through the years for students to research and find pictures for the tours.

So here I am, joining a short legacy of S-LC amateur local historians, researchers, and enthusiasts.

GR Walks currently has 2 tours, the Eastown and East Hills Tour and Heritage Hill North Tour. Last spring, Professor Du Mez of Calvin's History Department integrated the app into one of her courses. Students researched and created content for two or more tours: a Riverwalk Tour along the Grand River and Ramona Park Tour along the coast of Reed's Lake. So far, my job has been tying up loose ends for the research of these tours and finding pictures to go along with them.

What I love about the app is that it has multifaceted value and purposes. To Grand Rapids citizens, it's a way to learn about and affirm their neighborhood in a new way. To those participating in service-learning, it's a way to give context to the community in which they are serving and learning from. To Calvin history students, it's a way to develop their research skills and apply their knowledge in a practical way.

To me, I just think it's really cool.

mm

Reflections on Solidarity with Ferguson

Yesterday, on Christian campuses across the country, students organized demonstrations of solidarity for the family of Mike Brown, the Ferguson community, and people of color across our country for whom the possibility of police violence is always a concern. I attended the event at Calvin College, and marched with staff colleagues, faculty, administrators, and most importantly, students. 

This was a valuable opportunity, especially because it created a space for people of color in our community to share with us their experience. It was so important to listen to these voices.

Notably, no white members of the Calvin community spoke during the event. On the one hand, I appreciated that the event did not need a white voice from Calvin to legitimate it. The stories and reflections of people of color are valid and bear truth. On the other hand, we will not see a better approximation of justice in our country unless white folks enter the conversation. I wondered what I would say, if I stepped forward.

A providential fluke of schedules allowed for my father and my youngest son to join me for the march. I reflected on the fact that my father never had a conversation with me about how I should act around the police, nor will I need to have that conversation with my son. I will not worry that either of my sons will be a victim of police brutality because of the color of their skin. This is a privilege that all parents should share, and I should not rest in my privilege while my peers of color cannot.

I also reflected on the idea that the lack of indictment last week legitimates in me, as a white person, any fears I may have of black men. It spoke to my subconscious, “Yes, black men are scary. You should be afraid of them. And if you act out of that fear in violence, you are right to do so. The law will take your side.” And that is not good for my soul or for the lives of young black men across our country.

I am so grateful for the students of “We Are Calvin, Too” who organized this event. I’m grateful to the strong showing from Calvin’s cabinet at the event, and for President LeRoy who encouraged them to attend. I’m grateful for each person who spoke and shared their story. I’m grateful for the Wheaton College alumnus who prompted these gatherings at CCCU schools.

Lastly, I’m grateful for this advent season, and the reminder that Jesus is the Light of the world, and that we have hope that one day his peace will reign.

Come Lord Jesus, come.

Posted by Noah Kruis, Interim Director/Associate Director

A Reflection on the Characteristics of Christ

On Friday night, after my first week of exams and continued acclimatization to the hyperactive schedule of school life, I took a break to watch a movie at home with a good friend of mine. While searching through Netflix, we happened upon the title “That’s What I Am” and, egged on by a review of the coming-of-age flick that neither of us had ever heard of, decided to watch it on a whim. The film is set in Southern California in 1965 and tells the story of 12-year-old Andy Nichol, a student trapped in the typical middle school social hierarchy complete with the school bully and his cohorts, the cool-and-only-occasionally-cruel characters and their cliques (including Andy), and the outcasts. There are two stand-alones, however, who form the emotional backdrop to the story as a whole.

The first, Mr. Simon, is the mentor and teacher for most of Andy’s class. He wins a car in the beginning of the film by entering a competition in the local paper to write a framework for world peace in 25 words or less. He wins with only four, submitting the phrase “HUMAN DIGNITY + COMPASSION = PEACE.” He later gives the car away, claiming that it is “not his style.” He is kind, soft-spoken, and recognized by all to be a man who truly loves the kids he teaches, willing to reach out and support them in everything.

The second, Stanley, is a student in Andy’s class who has been mocked and teased for his entire life. Called “Big G” because of his flaming red hair (“G” stands for ginger), he’s easily a foot taller than the rest of his classmates, with “a head too big for his body, and ears too big for his head.” He’s the archetypal nerd, incredibly bright but disliked by everyone for his sense of otherness.

But Stanley exemplifies Mr. Simon’s call to peace. He’s a gentle giant, uninterested in fighting back against the kids who viciously beat and tease him; he knows any retaliation will only lead to more violence. He protects the other outcasts, standing strong for them even after one of the girls is attacked and beaten for spreading “cooties” to a more popular classmate. He quietly, without drawing any attention to himself, lives into a message of tolerance and peace that goes far beyond his years.

Stanley was convicting.

We have a culture that loves a good underdog story, but people still hate being the underdog. In reality, we only like the underdogs after they win. It’s only after someone’s rise to glory that we decide to cast in our lot with them, only after they’ve become one of the favored that we start to associate. In this, Stanley felt a little Christ-like, really, an underdog without a victory or a defining moment of triumph. Like Christ, he’s almost too humble to be real, too unrestrained to be human. He pursues peace, but he doesn’t force it on anyone. He simply asks people to take him and his friends for who and what they are.

Human.

Human dignity is a tricky subject. In a world full of indiscriminate death at the hands of viruses like Ebola and incredibly discriminatory death under ISIS, where nation fights nation as a matter of principle based on a violent past, we need to remember the idea of dignity. We need to remember the call to compassion. We need to pray. We need to recognize that, at a fundamental level, human beings are human beings. We’re motivated by rage, lust, greed, etc., but we’re motivated by a deep desire to belong. We crave a sense of connectivity. So if violence begets violence, so too does peace beget peace. So too does compassion create and sustain compassion. Like Stanley, like Christ, we must demand humility, but not from those around us. We must demand it from ourselves.

Lord, hear our prayer.

Evans Lodge

ABSL, Natural Sciences and Mathematics

A Focus On Humility

Two weeks before Calvin reconvenes, the S-LC student staff assembles for a two-week intensive training. During this training we spend three hours crafting a covenant which reflects our hopes and commitments for the year.This year the staff focused on the responsibility we have to each other and to the rest of the community with an added emphasis on identity and humility.Through this covenant we hope to understand ourselves and our community better. By doing this, we can become better student leaders and better neighbors.

A FOCUS ON HUMILITY

With mutual respect, we commit
to struggling with and asking these

questions of ourselves and others:

Who are you?

What identity have you been given?

What identity have you chosen?

How have I harmed you?

How can I love you?

How can I love myself?

How have I harmed myself?

What identity have I chosen?

What identity have I been given?

Who am I?

Thoughts on Work and Prayer for the 50th Anniversary

Here is the text of the devotions that I shared on the evening of the 50th anniversary banquet for the S-LC last month:

In the Service-Learning Center, the professional staff begins each year sharing a list of hopes and expectations we have for our student employees. One of those hopes is that they develop “responsible habits of acquiring new knowledge and incorporating it in a life of active prayer and civic engagement.” This is, in typical Calvin fashion, a mouthful of carefully chosen words expressing a deep conviction that looks great on paper. We have to unpack it and enact it for it to be any good.

When introducing this to students we acknowledge that much of the new knowledge students are acquiring in our line of work is about the miserable state of our world: racism, inadequate housing, lead poisoning, under-resourced schools, blighted neighborhoods, food insecurity. That misery can quickly feel overwhelming. We are all too often tempted to cordon off this knowledge from the rest of our lives, occasionally thinking piteous thoughts about those whose lot is worse off than ours. Alternatively, we can dwell on the disparities in our world with despair, loudly spewing cynical rants. But these are not very responsible habits for dealing with the knowledge we’ve acquired. We instead suggest a twofold response: incorporate it into a life of active prayer and civic engagement.

The Reformed tradition provides some helpful language to support this—God’s good creation has fallen into this miserable state, but through Christ, all the world is being redeemed—but as you can see by the luminaries after whom we have named our tables this evening, (Wendell Berry, Gandhi, Oscar Romero, Dorothy Day, Wangari Maathai, Desmond Tutu, Martin Luther King Jr., Rachel Carson, Cesar Chavez, John Perkins, Mother Teresa, Jane Addams) the S-LC appreciates the opportunity to learn from other faith traditions as well.

The motto of the Benedictines is “Ora et Labora:” Pray and work. St. Benedict viewed prayer and work as partners, and believed in combining contemplation with action. The phrase expresses the need to balance prayer and work in monastic settings and has been used in many religious communities from the Middle Ages onwards. The Benedictines also take a vow of stability, committing their lives to a faithful presence in a specific place. These Benedictine values have found new life in the New Monastic movement that birthed, “Common Prayer, A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals,” a daily prayer book with which we have opened our S-LC staff meetings for the past several years.

This book invokes many of those whose names are on these tables and many others who live into the idea of “Ora et Labora” in response to the misery in the world. Each day among other patterns includes a joint praying of the Lord ’s Prayer. But before we can pray and work, we need to have a vision to pray for and work towards. 

We need to imagine Shalom, another idea that is not foreign to the S-LC, a state of well-being and right relationship between humanity, creation, and God.

I often pray “your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” as a sort of mantra as I walk through the Creston neighborhood where I live. I ask myself, “What would it look like for God’s kingdom to be present here? for this place on earth to seem more like heaven?”

Then I imagine Christ’s return and a ripple effect miraculously transforming the cityscape around me: the weeds sprouting from the cracks in the sidewalks disappear and the pavement is whole again. The vacant mom & pop grocer is once again selling fresh, healthy produce to neighbors. The candy wrappers and grocery bags that litter the street vaporize before my eyes. The third grader who is about to be held back due to his illiteracy becomes an engaged learner. The porn shop is replaced by an art gallery.

But as I continue to pray, I realize that God’s providence for this neighborhood includes the hands and feet of his disciples. We must pull the weeds and rebuild the pavement. We must invest in the small business owner who is willing to risk a small-scale grocery store on the street corner. We must opt for more sustainable packaging for the products we purchase, and dispose of what hasn’t found its way to the dustbin. We must read weekly with the kindergartener at the local school so that by the time she takes the standardized tests in third grade she is proficient and excited about learning. We must pray for the Spirit to change the hearts of people who produce and consume pornography, such that they come to a respectful view of human sexuality and appreciate true beauty.

We pray to ask God for the imagination to see shalom in a place, to see where it is already coming, to see where we can add to it, to see where we’re standing in the way and to confess that. We will get there by praying for it and enacting it…how does God’s kingdom come? It is through his people, the church who were created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

In short, we must bend our will to that of God our father, who has a plan for his creation, and we must step up to fulfill our vocations within that plan if we are to hope to see the fruit thereof. As we do this, the line between Ora et Labora begins to fade.

Jan and Sharon met with the principals at Sigsbee and Henry Elementary to set up tutoring. Jonathan and Jane supported students who initiated the moving service for evicted Grand Rapidians without the resources to move themselves (we still get calls about that service even though it was discontinued years ago). Katie VanZanen encouraged her tutee to finish high school and attend college. Many of us spent the afternoon planting a bioswale. In a way, those actions are prayers in and of themselves: “Your kingdom come. Your will be done. Here on earth, just like it is in heaven. Give us what we need today.” Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, after walking alongside Martin Luther King to advocate for Civil Rights mused: “when I marched in Selma, my feet were praying.”

Now, before we enjoy the bounty of this meal that has been prepared for us to celebrate God’s act of renewal through our prayers and work of the last fifty years, I’m going to ask you to join me in praying the Lord’s Prayer. We’ll leave enough space for any variation you may have learned, as has become our tradition. Then I’ll encourage to continue praying with your feet and hands in the next fifty years.

Let’s pray:

Our Father…

Seeds of service, turning 50

In 1964 a seed was planted.  It was a seed of service, of sharing, and of learning, and now fifty years later, a forest of relationships grows all around the Calvin College campus, the city of Grand Rapids, the State of Michigan, and indeed more recently there are buds opening in places around the world like Americus, Georgia; Houma, Louisiana; Jackson, Mississippi; Budapest, Hungary; Accra, Ghana; Arequipa, Peru; and Tegucigalpa, Honduras.  The first planters of this seed formed it as a student club, and they called it K.I.D.S., for Kindling Intellectual Desire in Students.  Later the movement became known as the Student Volunteer Services office, and then finally the Service-Learning Center at Calvin College since 1993.  It has been my deep privilege to serve as the director of this place since 2002.

One of the things I love about this 'movement', as I like to call it, is that there are so many stories of hope, and of love, and of friendship.  I read and learn about lots of things in the world that can make me want to cry, to lament the depth of evil in the world, and that leave me feeling helpless and in despair.  And nearly every day in the work that I do I encounter stories of courage, of justice, of reaching out, of connection - stories that counter the other stories.  I think of former students working hard to make the world better in places like Thailand, Cambodia, Honduras, Toronto, Chicago, Phoenix, Ann Arbor, Washington DC, and nearly every corner of the city of Grand Rapids - and I am inspired.  These alumni use the skills and knowledge and passion that they learned at Calvin College to join ambitious and thoughtful people all over in service and community-building.  You can read about some of them here.

Partnership with schools is still our primary activity, with tutoring and mentoring and homework help happening at multiple locations every day after school, but the work has expanded too.  Deep, reflective work on the Plaster Creek watershed, in which the college resides, includes research, oral histories, upstream and downstream relationship building, and the involvement of schools, college, churches and community organizations.  History, Social Work, Chemistry, Biology, Spanish, Engineering, Art, Kinesiology, Nursing, Political Science, Music, Geography, Geology, Psychology, and many other departments have regular involvement in academically-based service-learning projects and assignments.  Study abroad in Ghana, Honduras, Peru and Hungary, as well as Spain, Cambodia, India, Haiti and France, among others, all include elements of service-learning and community engagement regularly.  Spring break trips take more than a hundred students to ten or more locations within driving distance to partner with Christian community development organizations in thoughtful and reciprocal service.  New students have been welcomed to Calvin with a day of service-learning every year since 1993 through StreetFest.

Soon, on June 6 and 7, many of the leaves, branches, flowers and trunks of this original planting will gather to celebrate fifty years of growth, and I would love to invite you to join us.  There have been hundreds of student staff members, and ten or so directors and associate directors.  Nearly all of the directors will be on hand, and dozens of former student staff members and volunteers.  Everyone is welcome.  Let’s get your name on the list.

You can register for one or more of the four events at this link:

https://securelb.imodules.com/s/814/index.aspx?sid=814&gid=1&pgid=1210&cid=2197

See who is already planning to be there here:

http://www.calvin.edu/slc/50th-Anniversary/attendees.html

And I hope you will especially consider joining us on Saturday evening, June 7, at the Kroc Center in Grand Rapids, for a banquet with dinner, and plenty of time for stories and gratitude.

Please let us know before the Memorial Day weekend ends though, our catering staff is asking us for a final number by Tuesday, the 27^th of May.

If you have any questions, feel free to drop us a line at slc@calvin.edu, or call us at 616-526-6455 . 

The current staff of the Service-Learning Center opens all of its weekly meetings with words from the Common Prayer as follows:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you; wherever he may send you;

May he guide you through the wilderness; protect you through the storm;

May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you;

May he bring you home rejoicing: once again, into our doors.

I like to think of this anniversary celebration as an opportunity for some of us to pass once again into those doors of rejoicing, if only for an evening together.

I hope we’ll see you there.