The Drive to Want to Change Things

In my Social Justice class, I ask students to keep a commonplace journal on the books we read: They take note of significant passages from the text, and reflect on its meaning for their own lives. I am happy to share the response to The Book of Mev by Kristen Schenk, one of my students in Social Justice from fall of 2006.

“Ellacuria once offered a spiritual exercise for the present age of atrocity that called people of good will to struggle so that others can experience a more abundant life: ‘I want you to set your eyes and your hearts on those people who are suffering so much—some from poverty and hunger, others from oppression and repression. Then (since I am a Jesuit), standing before this people thus crucified you must repeat St. Ignatius’ examination from the first week of the [Spiritual] Exercises. Ask yourselves: What have I don’t to crucify them? What do I do to uncrucify them? What must I do for this people to rise again?’” (Page 108)

“Carlos Mesters…had said to Mev, ‘There’s a poverty in every human life. When we’re aware of our limits, we’re more open to change and conversion. If our limits are at the individual level, like alcoholism or alienation, our awareness can provoke a change so that we can grow beyond this. Here in Brazil, our limits are very much at the social level—hunger, homelessness. We struggle to become aware and change these things. But sometimes after engaging in a long social struggle, we realize that nothing grew inside of us. Maybe in the U.S. your limits are more at the personal level. But sometimes when you are struggling individually, you realize that you have to address the social dimension to arrive at the personal dimension. Without integration of the personal and the social, we won’t be full persons. We may start at different points, but we arrive together. THE STRUGGLE IS ONE.’” (Page 139)

“The struggle is one” really struck a chord in me. Right now, I am very interested in the idea of solidarity and of working directly with people to achieve some goal. I feel that, more than anything else, solidarity demonstrates commitment to a cause and willingness to sacrifice some aspect(s) of one’s life in order to work for something greater. I was inspired by Mev’s dedication to the poor, mostly of Central America, and her willingness to do without many things in order to be one with them. She worked tirelessly to promote their lives to those of more prominent standing who might be able to aid them. Moreover, I think solidarity can be seen in people separated by distance but working for a common goal. I don’t think you have to physically move to some poverty-ridden neighborhood or foreign place to live with the poor if you are to demonstrate your commitment to them. Some people may be most effective doing this, but without others working for organizations or trying to get funding or attempting to change legislation, living in solidarity with people can only do so much. In the book, Pedo Casaldalíga said, “As long as there’s a First World, there won’t be peace because there won’t be justice or sharing” (page 146). I firmly believe that, until we all unite for the same causes—the ideas of justice, equality, and decent lives for all people, everywhere—we will never fully bring God’s Kingdom to the earth.

“‘We also came to learn that to be in solidarity with the poor we didn’t have to give up everything or stop being who we were. I’ll always be middle-class, even if I lower my salary. We’re middle-class by the very way we understand society, our level of education, our access to persons and power. We can’t deny our own history! But we do have to place our gifts and our work at the service of changing society. We have to use our goods to serve the grassroots struggle.’ –Lori Altmann” (Page 141)

One thing I often tend to overlook is the idea that no matter what I choose to do with my life, there will always be an unbridgeable gap existing between myself and the people I hope to serve. Due simply to my luck of being born into a stable, loving, and middle-class life, there will always be places where I am unable to connect with the less fortunate. Not only because I have been given more in some cases, but because, in plenty of others, they are the privileged ones and can teach me things. As Lori says, these sorts of characteristics and mindsets that have been ingrained in a person since birth cannot be dispelled. Instead, I must figure out how best to use them in my service to the poor. I remember when I heard Fr. Sobrino talk about liberation theology and his work in El Salvador. He said that we—the people of the First World who are in the upper and middle classes—will always be differentiated, and there is no reason we will be punished for that. It would, however, be a sin if we chose to remain comfortable in this place and refuse to help ease the misery or suffering of our brothers and sisters. Lori reassures me that it is not necessary to sever ties with the past in order to carry out Christ’s mission in the present and future.

“‘There’s a tendency to lose your human vulnerability and responsiveness for those tragedies and become, not just hardened as in bitter or cynical, but aloof, or your compassion becoming an automatic response where you can be kind, but you are on automatic pilot, not from the heart, because if you let all that tragedy touch you, you might just fall apart…How do you keep your heart vulnerable and genuinely responsive and not just going through the motions?’ –Ann Manganaro” (Pages 184-185)

Insensitivity is a risk to which every person is exposed in the modern world—or, at least, the modern American world. I mean, evil, cruelty, death, destruction, and war are among the dominant issues shown in our media. After seeing so much of it, a person’s natural response would be to shut down and refuse to be affected by such things. I find that, in the case of the war in Iraq, I have unfortunately become insensitive to the thousands of people who die each day. At first, I cared so much more about each soldier and each civilian who was reported dead. I thought about their families and the losses they were feeling. But as time has passed and nothing has changed, I have stopped paying attention and stopped empathizing with the families of those lost. While I am not trying to justify my response, I think it is all too common. When faced with so much heartache, how can one look at it and not feel discouraged and depressed? At the same time, however, I think sometimes, for people working to solve issues such as oppression and starvation, it is necessary to create distance between oneself and those suffering. If a delicate balance between compassion and “auto pilot” is not achieved, the person will be either too hardened to care or too involved to accomplish anything.

“‘What would it mean for St. Louis University, as an institution, to more fully embody the social dimension of the faith and make an option-for-the-poor universitariamente? There have been good efforts throughout SLU’s history—community service, scholarships, shaping the public debates. My own moral consciousness was shaped at SLU—through the example of professors and campus ministers—in a way that inspired me to devote my energies towards building a more compassionate and just world community. And yet, I suspect this is not the case for most SLU students.’ –Mev’s letter to Fr. Biondi” (Pages 216-217)

When I think back to what brought me to SLU, I know that God’s hand was definitely at work. I am ashamed to admit that I nearly became a cadet at the Air Force Academy—something totally contradictory to the beliefs I hold today. However, in my defense, I was doing so because it made sense financially, and I would have job security for basically an entire career, plus the opportunity of living in various places. However, two weeks before the deadline, I changed my mind and decided on SLU because I felt something deep within me calling me to be here. SLU’s explicit focus on forming men and women for others did not influence my decision at all, but, like Mev, it has definitely shaped who I have become and who I will be. That said, I, too, find myself struggling in some situations when I see how SLU administrators and students approach them. First, I find it absurd that tuition is so high that most students are forced to carry large student loans. This is absurd to me because, if I am called and encouraged, by my SLU education, to serve the community and give back to my world, I must also consider my financial responsibility to the university. I think this really limits a lot of people in their quest to do any type of volunteer work after graduation. I have also found that the students who are active in issues of service and social justice tend to be the same core circle for most issues. Perhaps SLU students (myself included) are not doing a good enough job of promoting the importance of these issues among our peers. Unfortunately, I know that a lot of this lack of involvement comes from, simply, a lack of interest, and I’m not sure how students or administrators could go about changing this. I think Mev’s letter raised a great point about incorporating social justice more into the overall mission and atmosphere of the university. I mean, when freshmen are told at orientation that anywhere around campus is dangerous, as are people who look suspicious, how are the Jesuit and Christian ideals being practiced? They are not. I also have issues with the promotion of the number of service hours the SLU community has contributed. The way I see it, service should not seem like a requirement that must be fulfilled or a contest to be won. We should truly enjoy and want to give back to others and help provide people with some of the same opportunities we have had. We say we are a university for others, but there are definitely many areas that need improvement—although there are many areas where students and administrators/faculty are also doing great things.

“‘Still trying to make sense of Mev’s experience. If I understood, I think part of her passionate response to injustice included regarding injustice as incomprehensible: Why? How can a human being act this way to another human being? One terrible aspect of injustice is that it strips away the dignity of the one who is abused. But the opposite of injustice, love, affirms human dignity.’ –Nora Archer” (Page 289)

One of the most frequently-written words in my journal this semester might be “why.” I use it almost nonstop as I am exposed to so many new perspectives on previously-known issues and so many new issues. I use it when asking why I was so lucky to be born into what some consider the best country on the earth and into such a loving and supportive family, when so many people have neither. I’ve even used it to ask how come I’ve had to learn about everything wrong in the world and why it had to spark in me some sort of unquenchable longing to do something to change it. “Why” questions never seem to escape from my thoughts. Mev’s life seems to have been driven by such “why” questions. She wasn’t able to provide answers to most of them, but she saw God in all situations, and it seems to me that she saw God working in ways that put these why’s into perspective. Everything was happening for a reason in the big scheme of things, even her cancer and her ultimate death. “Why” is such a tough question to answer, and often one that cannot be answered, but because of that it should drive us even more to want to change things.

“As a college student, [Mev] wrote: ‘When I was in my early teens, a thought took hold of me. Jesus didn’t die to save us from suffering—he died to teach us how to suffer, to be with us in our every anguish and agony, to give meaning to our pain. Sometimes I actually mean it. I’d rather die young, having lived a life crammed with meaning than to die old, even in security, but without meaning.’” (Page 327)

“[Mev] came to a resolution about how to respond to this crisis and she describes it later in the introduction to The Struggle is One: ‘Yes the way up the hill to Christ the Redeemer is a bumpy, sometimes dangerous ride. And I have come to believe that we, the privileged, are invited to get off the bus and plant our feet squarely beside the journeying people, walking with the God who is present in those on both sides of the road.’” (Page 328)

“‘I am called. I am called forth to say no to injustice, war, the preparation for war. I am called forth to yes to life, yes to diversity, yes to the stepped-on ones standing up and claiming what is theirs…God, empower us to strive and struggle with integrity, love, and humility for a better world, to strive and struggle courageously, willing to risk, willing to be inaccomodated, placing our freedom on behalf of others’ unfreedom—empower and inspire us to act creatively and justly and lovingly and disruptingly. Life as usual cannot go on, as it grinds the poor into the dust and sand—sick, sick, sick. God, heal this sick world and let us be your hands. Condemning no one and afraid of no one.’ –Mev’s journal” (Page 372)

Mev’s mission statement would be an ideal one for any person who truly wants to follow the Christian path in life. Instead of focusing on strictly following the rules of the church or being pro-life in the sense of anti-abortion, Mev’s ideas about calling and vocation span the spectrum of social justice issues, touching on many areas of concern. Sure, many people can be disgusted with the current state of the world, but that disgust has to reach a certain level and function in conjunction with a desire for betterment if anything is to come of it—and this is precisely what Mev did. I think that, in some way, all Christians have this same vocation of unconditional love for our brothers and sisters around the world. How we put it into action differs between people, but we should always focus on standing up for life and liberty. As stressed above, those of us who come from situations where it is easier—albeit safer—to take a stand on politically-charged issues should do so as much as possible to help those who cannot do so. Mev could not live with herself unless she knew she was doing all she could to work for a better world—a world with less “sickness.” Neither should we concede to living in prosperity and security when it could just as easily have been us on the other side of the issue.