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Home safe

After dropping Seth at a rest stop near Princeton, the rest of us made it back to campus a couple of hours ago. I’m glad to be out of the van (and showered!) but already feeling a little nostalgic for our intrepid quintet. It was truly a pleasure to travel with these folks.

Thought I’d share some thoughts on Sunday’s vigil from my journal:

“On this fresh, cool morning the spirits of thousands of the people of Latin America are among us.”

A Honduran activist gave us this message as we gathered in a light rain for the vigil. Soon after, we began the long litany of names of those who’d been killed by SOA graduates. We carried crosses bearing the names of the dead, and for two hours we raised them as each name was read and sang “Presente.” As we listened to the names and sang our response, I imagined the dead – women, men, children, teenagers, the elderly, babies, the unborn, the unidentified – standing at the gates of Fort Benning, confronting the violence and injustice that had silenced them. The mood was somber, but there was hope, too, because we were remembering those who were meant to be forgotten. This act of remembrance was in itself subversive. But even more than remembering, we were bringing their names directly to this place that played a significant role in their deaths – and continues to perpetuate the same violence today.

Catholic activist Kathy Kelly, who spoke just before the litany began, reminded us to feel the grief of the deaths we were remembering. Her remarks made me think of the Gaza presentation Emily, Steve and I had attended the night before. The presenter had told us about a group of Gazan youth who, on a recent trip to Poland, had asked to leave an amusement park early. These youth, whose lives at home are so vulnerable and uncertain, told their chaperone they were afraid to feel happy. As Kathy Kelly reminded us, some of the people most traumatized by violence become numb. Feelings can become too destabilizing and risky. But those of us removed from the violence can afford to feel the grief that it evokes. It was a good reminder, as we called out “presente” on behalf of the dead, that we too were called to be fully present to the tragedy that has occurred (and continues) in our names.

Still Raining… Still Driving…

But still enjoying.

Down for bed

We’re safe and sound in Charlotte, after a rainy drive up and a powerful morning at the vigil. Much more to come of course, but thanks for now to Preston (of The Wheat and the Chaff) and his family for putting us up. Nate is currently hugging the horses. Thank you for all your prayers, good people. We’ve felt you with us today.

Reflections from the (Rainy) Road

We’ve officially taken part in the vigil and are currently in the car heading to Davidson, North Carolina, home of Union’s very own Preston Davis. We’ve got several conversations going – one reflecting on symbolism, militarism, and American myths and the other seems to be flowing from the workshop a few of us attended last night on the ordination of women. It’s ridiculously raining outside, but Seth is taking care of business.

The vigil itself was great. A large number of folks showed up, as usual, despite the cold and rainy weather. Tamara sang beautifully on stage, helping with the litany, as thousands stood in solidarity, chanting “Presente” after each victim’s name was read aloud. Though very much a time for mourning, the gathering was also a time to celebrate the resistence so many have taken part in through the years. Perhaps what helped convey this was the role the puppetistas played in the vigil.

The large puppets serve as a creative and engaging image to convey both mourning and celebration. While the litany is read, they lead the folks around the stage, to the gates, in what is pretty much a funeral procession. Once this is done, once the long list of the victim’s names are read, the puppetistas breakout in a drum beat and begin to dance. What was once mourning, what was once death, is suddenly brought to life in celebration of the resistence, solidarity, and community created by such acts. A certain theological concept comes to mind, no? I believe ressurection is the word we’re looking for here.

All in all, another fantastic experience I hope not to have again.

May the people of Latin America continue to experience ressurection. May they continue to join in solidarity with each other and experience life in the midst and face of death as brought upon them by the School of the Americas.

Prepping

A lot of thought went into my decision to attend the SOA vigil. I wanted to keep myself and motives in check, I wanted to be spiritually prepared to be fully present at the vigil and not just a tired, over-worked grad student.
The vigil starts in 15 min and I am amazed by the synchronistic events encountered on our long drive down to Georgia that have kept me spiritually in check. Seeing family, sleeping a block away from Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, eating one block away from MLK’s grave & Ebenezer Church. I keep reflecting on Thursday’s community commissioning and my Preaching & Worship class in which we practiced communion 4 times (my water communion daisy decorated our van’s dashboard.) Silly of me to think that spiritual preparation for action begins with yourself. Its a ready or not kind of thing. Presente. I’m ready.

On and off message

Someone remarked before we left about how univocal this action is: mournful, meditative, focused on giving voice to the Latin American victims of SOA graduates. That’s mostly true.

There was a migrant workers’ union alongside ukulele-playing, protest-song-singing undergrads on stage today. This evening, I ran from the workshop on the “Low-Risk Non-Federal Arrest” option to one entitled “Woman Ordination Matters: Gender, The Gospel, Global Justice.” Seth sat in on a presentation on US intervention in Guatemala while Emily, Emily, and I were next door hearing about life in Gaza. We all share a similar theo-ethical sensibility here, and so can entertain some diversity of topic in the midst – it makes things interesting.

It’s something similar with the five of us. In between thoughtful, self-critical conversations, there is discussion of NPR theme songs and a hunt for peach cobbler. We talked for an hour while sitting in a field, went to the above-mentioned workshops, and then drove off to fulfill what someone on Chowhound said ought to be the 11th commandment, “Thou shalt eat at Macon St Barbecue before you die.”

Tomorrow morning – bright and early – is the vigil. We’ll be mourning, holding crosses aloft, and will focus today’s scattered energy into a communal time of prayer, solidarity, and direct action. I don’t know what will come of it, but tomorrow we seek to unite in one voice. It’s a blessing to know that Union supports us in that. Sleep first, though.

Photos, Georgia-bound

We’ve made it to Columbus; a first round of photos from the drive down.
Click a photo to see it large, captions below!

First night

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In Richmond, VA – one block from that _other_ Union Theological Seminary.

Safely Arrived

Hello Columbus, Georgia!

After a long day in the car, we’ve made it to our hotel. In the words of Seth: “For as long as we were in route, it didn’t seem to break us down quiet as much as a typical 14-hour travel day would.” How’d we survive the day? Southern hospitality, of course.

We were up-and-at-em by 8:00, enjoying a wonderful breakfast prepared by loving congregants of Ginter Park United Methodist Church. Some time after noon we broke for North Carolinian BBQ Pork & Peach Cobbler. And by dark, we’d made it to Atlanta and met up with friend of Union, Dorsett, for a dinner in the historic neighborhood home to Ebenezer Baptist Church.

Having checked in, settled into our room, and checked our email, we’re now slowly passing out, one by one, in preparation for tomorrow’s workshops and vigil related events (the action/vigil is Sunday morning).

Stay tuned for more reflections on our journey down and the accompanying pictures.  Again, many thanks for your loving thoughts, prayers, and comments. They mean much to us.

On the Road Again

Just a year ago I was on the same road, I-95, headed down to the vigil. It was early in my Union career and I remember much of the experience. I remember not knowing what to expect. I remember the conversations on the drive. I remember the sun. And the southern BBQ we had for one of the dinners. What slipped my mind however was the long drive. Of course, I remember now.

We’ve picked up Seth in Jersey, created some travel games (my two favs being name your supreme court justice’s middle name AND name the nuclear nations – Steve has those initials down!), driven through three states (if we include New York), and near D.C. That is to say, we’ve still got a long way to go.

Richmond for the night – we’ve got a church stay thanks to Emily O’s brother. Tomorrow – more driving. Nay, more conversation and games!

Thanks for your thoughts, prayers, and comments. Keep em coming!

Departure

A few images from the departure of our friends.

Safe travels!

Emilies

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