Keesha's House: Integration

In order to come to a better understanding of the importance of interactions between people in peacemaking, I have been examining the ways that people separate themselves and the ways they are brought together. As I analyzed the effects of borders, bridges, and boundaries in the world today, I was introduced to the idea of a contact zone. As defined by Mary Louise Pratt in her article “Arts of the Contact Zone,” a contact zone is a place where people with differences can come together. I have experienced different types of contact zones in my life primarily through an exchange student program and my involvement with the church.

The first time I can remember actually being a part of a contact zone was when I was in 8th grade, and my family was offered the opportunity to host a foreign exchange student. Although I had heard stories that described the impact of cultural diversity, I had never experienced it firsthand. My new Belgian sister’s name was Loulia, and she was a vibrant and joyful young woman. Like Dana Johnson’s character Melvin from “Melvin in the Sixth Grade,” Loulia was unaffected by the standards of conformity that those around her adhered to. She and I were so alike in personality and sense of humor that we hit it off immediately. Just as any older sister would do, Loulia was willing to answer any and all questions that I asked of her, which led to many theological, moral, and personal discussions that were very important to me. Just as John Howard Griffin was able to build a window into the black society in Black Like Me, I had a way to experience a world completely different from my own.

Loulia attended church regularly with us in our small Mennonite congregation, and it soon became clear that we were facing a difficult border of religious tolerance. The people in my congregation loved and respected Loulia, but as a family we decided that it would be in her best interests not to spread the fact that Loulia was Muslim. If someone asked her directly she answered truthfully, but we did our best to avoid any major publicizing of her religious beliefs. I was shocked and dismayed that the peace-loving people I knew so well could be capable of creating such a division based on a difference that I saw as small. This was the first time that I experienced the reality that it takes intentional effort to build bridges between people with differences, no matter how insignificant they may seem to me.

One of the other significant contact zones that I have recently been a part of was within my church conference, Allegheny Mennonite Conference. I was a part of the AMC Youth Cabinet, which was a group of high school juniors and seniors who took leadership of youth events in the conference. I was elected the Chairperson of the cabinet, which included a position on the conference’s Leadership Council. As a member of this council I attended monthly meetings and delegate sessions during which we made decisions regarding the future of the conference. The council was an effective contact zone due to an eclectic mix of people, each with different perspectives and viewpoints.

During my time on the council, we dealt partially with the issue of homosexuality in the church. Before our meeting began, each member of the council expressed their perspective on the subject as well as their life experience that brought them to that perspective. I was amazed at the attitude of respect and love that was extended as each person shared their unique thoughts and experiences. The borders that are created because of differences in religious and social beliefs were by no means absent, but they were navigated with an attitude of love that left all of the involved members, including myself, feeling at peace. I believe that the lack of this type of attitude is what causes boundaries to be so dividing. As shown in Luis Urrea’s novel The Devil’s Highway, the conflict and violence of the Mexican/American border escalated when the Mexicans were “dehumanized” by their oppressors. No matter what the subject (religious differences, socioeconomic differences, racial differences), approaching conflict with the intent of “winning” is not beneficial for any party involved.

Throughout the years my safe house, as I feel it should be for every growing child, was my home. My parents are incredible people who love and support me unconditionally, and our house was a safe haven for my family, my friends, and anyone who came our way. My home was a safe space to have discussions, learn important lessons, and ask the questions that needed to be asked, no matter how difficult. For me, that concept was what made reading Keesha’s House difficult: I could not imagine living in a world where your own home was not safe and your parents were not supportive. I am very aware of how lucky this home environment makes me; I was fortunate enough to have a safe house even when I didn’t need one.

Throughout this exploration of borders, contact zones, and safe houses, I have become much more aware of the social and religious divisions around me. Although before I knew instinctively that there were lines that could not be crossed, they are now in the forefront of my consciousness and are a part of my interactions with the communities around me. As I continue through my next three years of college I will continue to explore and ask questions, and hopefully be a part of a new kind of peacemaking.

 

Works Cited

Frost, Helen. Keesha's House. New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2003. Print.

Johnson, Dana. Break Any Woman Down: Stories. Athens: University of Georgia, 2001. Print.

Pratt, Mary Louise. "Arts of the Contact Zone." Profession 91 (1991): 33-40. Web. 17 Apr. 2013

Urrea, Luis Alberto. The Devil's Highway: A True Story. New York: Back Bay, 2005. Print.

First Presbyterian Church

During this class unit we have been focusing on the ways that people who have differences come together in places known as contact zones. In order to investigate the idea of a local church as a contact zone, I visited First Presbyterian Church in downtown Goshen. Based on the evidence that I have collected, it appears that First Presbyterian is making a strong effort to reach out to the community, but there are obstacles that stand in the way.

I visited the church two times, and both were Sunday mornings during the Lent series. The service seemed to follow a fairly traditional pattern, involving scripture readings, hymns, congregational responses, sermon, confessions, and prelude/postlude. I noticed that that although all of the songs came from the Presbyterian Hymnal, none of the members needed the book to sing along. To me, this suggests that many of the songs are traditional and have been a part of their worship for a very long time. Habits like this can be very comforting and familiar for the members of the church, but can also be intimidating to a visitor who is not as familiar with the songs.

The church itself is in a very nice building right in the middle of downtown Goshen. Driving around the neighborhood makes it clear that, although the neighborhood is not rich by any means, it probably would fall into the middle-class range. Driving one block in one direction from the church would lead you back to Main Street, and a block the other direction ends up in residential neighborhood.

In terms of the people who attend the church, First Presbyterian is struggling with its diversity in both age and ethnicity. In my interview with Senior Pastor Allen Griffin, he freely shared that the increasing age of the congregation is currently one of their greatest challenges. He also was able to share some demographic information with me, and of the current 251 members, 6 are Latino, 1 is African American, and 4 are Asian. Compared to the high rates of diversity in Goshen, these numbers are clearly much less than average.

One of the ways that First Presbyterian is a very effective contact zone is through their outreach and community service programs. In addition to a food pantry, a community Christmas meal,  involvement with Habitat for Humanity, The Window, and One Great Hour of Sharing, the church also has a relationship with the nearby work release center. Through the center, people who are transitioning out of the prison system can find jobs and begin the process of re-acclimating to society. Pastor Griffin stated, “Many of us refuse to believe we could ever have legal trouble. Connections like these bridge the gap in thought that begins to break down our sense of ‘other’.”

First Presbyterian Church faces many different obstacles that limit them from becoming the ideal contact zone. However, the ways that the church does reach out to the community are valuable and effective, and should not be discredited. Especially in the case of a church, no organization will ever be perfectly open and accommodating to every person. Recognizing that fact (while still attempting to reach as many people as possible) allows places like First Presbyterian to function and minister effectively in a community like Goshen.

Work Cited:

Griffin, Allen L. Personal interview. 17 Mar. 2013.

Better World Books

At first glance, Better World Books appears to be a used bookstore like any other, gathering and selling old books and barely staying afloat. However, closer examination reveals that there is much more to BWB than meets the eye. In conjunction with their mission to succeed as a business, BWB works to maintain the health of the environment and, most importantly, bridge the literacy gap. In this way, Better World Books serves as a place where people in any stage of the reading process can come and find books.

As is detailed on their website, Better World Books began as the brainchild of two college graduates from South Bend. As they realized the possibilities for success with their idea, they invited another friend, Jeff, to help them with the formulation of the business. Now, they are a thriving (and expanding) business that is still taking on new employees. BWB is structured around three main ideas which they call the “triple bottom-line”: social, environmental, and economic. The social aspect encompasses BWB’s emphasis on the support of literacy. In order to preserve the environment, they have developed reduced carbon emission plans, carbon balancing, low energy shipping, and recycling books. They have recycled over 135 million pounds of books, and reclaimed more than 900,000 pounds of metal shelving from libraries. In 2009 BWB won the WasteWise Gold Award for Paper Reduction, and in 2010 the WasteWise Gold Award for Climate Change. Finally, in the economic sector, they have a company resolution to participate in a new form of “true accounting”: being responsible to all key stakeholders while still recognizing the need for a profit.

BWB has an outlet store in Mishawaka, IN, a retail store in Goshen, IN, an extremely comprehensive online store, and numerous book drop-off locations. I visited the Goshen location in order to get a better feel for the business. The store is very organized and well-displayed, with orderly bookshelves and comfortable chairs for the reader’s convenience. They have every genre of book imaginable, with a combination of recent titles and old favorites in each section. Currently, the store is connected with a record shop next door which they share space with, but BWB is expanding and will soon be moving to a larger building on Main Street. The neighborhood is mostly full of small businesses, cafes, and markets.

My first visits to the store were on what would be considered a fairly typical business day. There was a fairly steady flow of customers, but nothing overly busy. The second visit was on April 5, which was the day of the First Fridays celebration in Goshen. BWB was much busier during the community celebration, packing in somewhere around 30 or 40 customers at one time. Brad Weirich, the retail manager of the store, laughingly informed me that the “average” customers of the store were generally 30-50 year old women. He did note, however, that they have worked hard to expand their customer range, especially through their children’s section. He noted that the customers also vary seasonally; there are often many more college students around the beginning of classes, and more teens and youth buying gifts around holidays.

Although the Goshen store is of moderate size, BWB as an organization serves a huge range of people and appears to still be growing. Their mission, according to the business’s website is “... [to be] a global bookstore that harnesses the power of capitalism to bring literacy and opportunity to people around the world.” The most recent published statistics on the site claim an impressive $13.8 million raised for literacy as well as over 8.1 million books donated.

One of the most impressive aspects of Better World Books’ structure is their commitment to improving the world around them. Many of the overarching achievements were noted earlier, but BWB also has relationships with specific nonprofit literacy programs. The global organizations are Books for Africa, The National Center for Family Literacy, Room to Read, and Worldfund. On a more local level, BWB also works with Open Books (Chicago), The Robinson Community Learning Center (South Bend), and The Prison Book Program (Boston). Through these outreach programs, BWB bridges the gaps between those who have books readily available to them and those who don’t. On a more local scale, BWB is also involved in the Goshen area with the local library, the Boys and Girls Club, and GoShakes. They also make various small donations to local businesses and programs (Weirich).

Works Cited:

Weirich, Brad. Personal interview. 5 Apr. 2013.

"Great Prices on New and Used Books." Better World Books. N.p., n.d. Web. 06 Apr. 2013.

For more information on Better World Books, visit:

• Website: www.betterworldbooks.com
• Or their blog: blog.betterworldbooks.com
• Or either of their two stores:
• 55740 Currant Rd

Mishawaka, IN 46545

(574) 968-9701

• 118 East Washington St

Goshen, IN 46528

(574) 534-198

Jeff Gundy

Jeff Gundy, a Mennonite poet originally from Flanagan, Illinois, is a prolific writer and an English professor at Bluffton University (Hostetler 85). In his article “Notes for the Heretical Sublime,” he writes “The aim of poetry, then, is not to render or describe or narrate—but to discover a language adequate to being, to bring into this world things made of words that draw us toward the full consciousness of which we can yet only dream” (Gundy 27). Gundy has a handful of poems published in the anthology A Cappella: Mennonite Voices in Poetry, which was edited by Ann Hostetler. Although these poems deal with subjects that range from childhood memories to abstract metaphors, each of them addresses the theme of crossing borders by emphasizing the importance of perspectives.

In “How to Write the New Mennonite Poem,” Gundy writes with the voice of an insider to the Mennonite world as he references traditional stories, food, and habits. Taking this insider perspective, he begins by packing in eight separate images: old Bibles, quilts, the Martyr’s Mirror, zwiebach, vareniki, borscht, and farms. These references would be completely lost on anyone not familiar with Mennonite tradition. However, even as these allusions to traditional Mennonite elements continue, Gundy writes them with a voice that is steeped in irony. “You, of course, are a backslidden, / overlearned, doubtridden, egodriven / quasibeliever...” The use of second-person references makes the reader feel as if Gundy is referencing them directly.  Although he is very familiar with the subject about which he is writing, Gundy’s almost satirical tone suggests that he has taken a step back and is able to look at his heritage from a completely new perspective; one that sees things very differently. By taking on this new perspective, he crossed the border between the insider group and the outsider group and created a new connection.

The second poem “Where I grew Up”, is a descriptive poem that characterizes Jeff Gundy’s own hometown. He writes with a very nostalgic tone, such as in lines 5-7: “I used to slow down in the summer / and coast through at thirtyfive or forty / only a little afraid of God and the police.” It is apparent that he has very fond memories of his Midwest hometown and feels very connected there. The point of contention that arises in the poem is introduced in the third stanza, where he writes “Flat means something to us here,” which implies that “they” do not appreciate flatlands the way that they should be appreciated. He continues to stress the point that, “we hate people telling us / how bad we’ve got it, how deprived,” until it finally escalates to “its grand slow roll that only idiots / and easterners could call flat.” In this case, the language that Gundy uses to make his position clear is slightly inflammatory, but is simply a reflection of his particular perspective. He seems to be making the point that judgements based on differences in perspective are arbitrary, and in order to connect fully with people we must try to see things from their perspective as well.

Finally, “The Cookie Poem” takes the theme of different perspectives and attempts to break them down through humor and a the use of a list. The poem is, for all intents and purposes, a list of all of the categories that people use to separate themselves. For example, some of these categories are “sad, faithful, brilliant, salty Atlantic, black hearted, heroic, flawed, and homeless.” However, Gundy uses the image of different types of cookies to represent these different groups of people and their perspectives. At first, the reader is consciously aware of the metaphor and tries to reconcile the image of a cookie with a person, but as the repetition continues the word begins to lose its distinct meaning and become more of an abstract image. As the poem reaches its conclusion Gundy writes that “God’s mouth is full / of cookies. God chews and swallows and flings / hands wide in jog, the crumbs fly / everywhere, oh God loves us all.” In this poem Gundy outright states that although there are all of these differences between people (or cookies), it is important to maintain perspective and realize that God loves all people across all borders.

Jeff Gundy’s poetry reminds his audience that there is always more than one way to approach a situation. By recognizing that someone else has their own perspective and attempting to see through their eyes, we can break down the barriers that separate us and learn to appreciate, if not agree with, the way that they see the world.

Works Cited

Gundy, Jeff. "Notes Toward The Heretical Sublime." Cross Currents 60.1 (2010): 24-44. Academic Search Premier. Web. 25 Mar. 2013.

Hostetler, Ann Elizabeth. "Jeff Gundy." A Cappella: Mennonite Voices in Poetry. Iowa City: University of Iowa, 2003. 85+. Print.

Interesting Links

http://www.bluffton.edu/~gundyj/

http://www.wordtechweb.com/gundy.html

http://www.goshen.edu/mennonitepoetry/Poets/Jeff_Gundy

Poetry as a Bridge

As we began our unit on Mennonite poetry, I realized that this is a topic that I can relate to very closely. I am a Mennonite, and I grew up in the church along with my many Mennonite relatives. I believe wholeheartedly in the faith practices and belief system associated with my denomination, as well as recognizing that there are faults that should be addressed. The poem that I have written stemmed from my experience with many different types of Mennonites and the realization that there are many groups along the spectrum that people are not familiar with. My personal sliver of this Mennonite spectrum is unique and tailored to my own beliefs.

An almost traditional Mennonite
I am a Mennonite.
But not one that wears a covering
or says things are “terrible good.”
I am a baker
but that’s the only time I wear an apron.
I am an artist
but I have no idea how to sew a quilt.
I am a singer
of both hymns and worship music
(and much much more.)
I believe in a simple life
and yes, I have electricity.
I am a pacifist
but sometimes my words are more hurtful than my hands.

I am a family member
part of a long history of Yoders
and Myers
and Millers
and Weavers.
And sometimes I have to wear long skirts to family reunions
(where all we do is play croquet.)

I believe in traditions
but I am not traditional.

I am a Mennonite because I choose to be.
All of the rest is just bonus.

Latino Literature

The Devil’s Highway by Luis Urrea is not a novel that I would generally pick up for light reading. Urrea’s thorough research and documentarian style of writing make the horrifying elements of the story that much more realistic and emotionally impacting. The novel addresses the reality of the corruption, racism, and greed that divides people on either side of the Mexican/American border, as well as the existence of honorable people and their acts that bring people together. This range of ethical behavior forces the reader to reevaluate the idea of “us” and “them” by asking which matters more: cultural, political, and skin color differences, or moral differences in regard to human life.

From what I have heard regarding the reasoning that anti-immigration people have for supporting their views, many of them have fallen victim to the habit of de-humanizing the immigrants (especially in the Mexican/American border case). Rather than joining those who support their beliefs with reasonable political or economic reasoning, these people use their hatred of difference to justify actions that, if committed against an American, would be considered an atrocity. In The Devil’s Highway, Urrea writes that the border is patrolled by many groups, not just the Border Patrol. Of these, the American “vigilante” groups who take the law into their own hands are the most violent and unforgiving. However, this trait isn’t confined to Americans: the Coyotes refer to the walkers as pollo, or a chicken that has been cooked. Urrea spends almost the entire remainder of the book reestablishing the Mexican immigrant’s humanity in the eyes of the reader by emphasizing their universal human characteristics.

Geography is one of the borders that Urrea focuses on in the novel, specifically the desert that separates the United States from Mexico. Since the only way that the border can be crossed without proper documentation is through the desert, it has begun to be associated solely with illegal immigrants and is seen as the separating factor between the two nations. However, Urrea cites two other specific instances (of which I’m sure there are hundreds more) to support the idea that “not only Mexicans die in this desert” (Urrea 117). The first was an American couple who went camping in the desert with their dune buggy and didn’t take enough water, as well as a second couple who went hiking in the desert and never came back. Urrea ends the section with the simple but evocative statement: “In the desert, we are all illegal aliens” (Urrea 120).

One of the sections of the novel that I found the most mentally stimulating (and stomach-turning) contained the step-by-step description of the process of dying of hyperthermia (Urrea 120-129). At first, the gruesome detail of the passage felt unnecessary to me, but I believe that Urrea was emphasizing the universal nature of the human body’s limits. Although there could be some discrepancies based on the person’s prior health or preparation, there are borders and limits that the human body cannot come back from, no matter where it was born.

Urrea made an interesting point as to how the borders of identity and body intersect in instances such as that of the Yuma 14. He raised the question as to what creates identity, and if identity is lost when the body is no longer recognizable. The list of “John Does” and their meager belongings emphasized the fact that without the body’s context clues, the belongings give little to no insight into their identity. Without making a direct statement, Urrea makes the reader consider what would happen to us in a similar situation and what our belongings would say about us.

All of this effort put into recognizing the humanity of the immigrants in The Devil’s Highway effectively restructures the mental borders that separate people into groups. It prompts the reader to consider which factor is more important by which to identify themselves: national/political/cultural affiliation, or moral affiliation. In my opinion there are two clear groups established in the novel: not Mexicans vs. Americans, but those who respect human life vs. those who don’t. Urrea does an excellent job of dispelling some of the previous stereotypes about the “unfeeling” Border Patrol (who actually take their job to rescue the lost very seriously) and the “freedom-seeking Coyotes” (who actually lead groups for the payment they will receive and call their followers “cooked chickens”). This new arrangement of borders and boundaries provides a completely different way for the reader to develop their own understanding of “us” and “them”.

Bibliography:

Urrea, Luis Alberto. The Devil's Highway: A True Story. New York: Back Bay, 2005. Print.

Lidia Torres

        The poems by Lidia Torres collected in The Wind Shifts serve as a bridge between Torres and her audience by exploring the aspects of life that are common to all people. She focuses primarily on writing from the context of a life and culture she appears to be comfortable with, as seen in her easy relation of very culturally unique aspects such as food and music. In "Visiting the Dead" she even indirectly records the recipe for what appears to be a traditional recipe called "sancocho" (a kind of stew). However, it does not appear that she is writing only for those who might be from the same cultural backround as she. While the setting of her poems may be specific, the subject matter of many of her poems touch on human experiences that can be universal. While not every person may be able to resonate with all of the poems, it is likely that at least one in this collection may strike a familiar chord.

        The poem "Three Keys", the first in Torres' collection in The Wind Shifts, sets a somber tone for the rest of the poems. She uses words likeskeleton, ghosts, rusted, scraping, and tapping to emphasize the feeling of mourning and grief. The three keys seem to be symbolic to her of the deceased "three brothers" discussed in the poem and the narrator's attempts to remain connected with her brothers. Torres then balances out the macabre and deathly imagery with the idea of the brothers creating music together by tapping and scraping on different kinds of drums. Although the idea may appear odd, the narrator seems comforted by the music and must experience this combination of beauty and despair in order to connect ("Then we are all / in the same dream, alive and dead"). As she attempts to make sense of grief and the loss of someone dear, Torres builds a bridge to connect with all other people who have had to do the same.

        The piece "Listening for Her" was the poem of Torres' that most deeply resonated with me. Through the use of narrative and reflection, she relates the struggles that can accompany the aging of a parent. Torres focuses on the role reversal that can seem so disturbing initially to a child who must take care of an elder in the way that they once were cared for ("She allows me to move her limbs, / unfold her skin, yielding / like an infant"). Following the initial narrative section of the poem, Torres moves into the narrator's reflection back to her days as a 14-year-old girl and her mother was lively and well. This kind of personal reminiscing forges a pathway not only between the past and the present, but also connecting Torres' past and present with that of anyone else who has been in the same kind of situation.

        Finally, Torres evokes all kinds of sensory imagery with her poem "Two Guavas". Like the other two, this piece narrates the events of a specific day or moment in the narrator's life. The details of the smell of ripe guavas filling a car and a child's trip to an aunt's farm evoke the reader's memories of their own childhood adventures. Often, smells, tastes, and seemingly insignificant visual snapshots (such as noticing a bird in the orchard) are what make childhood memories the most vivid. A memory that may seem inconsequential to one person may be extremely meaningful to another, and may trigger an emotional response that leads to their own memories.