Experiencing Change, Reflections After Charity in the City

Mariah in the chapel of the Elizabeth Ann Seton Pediatric Center.

Written by volunteer Mariah L., age 19
Mariah studies Interior Architecture and Illustration at the  Rhode Island School of Design.  

We don’t realize how much we have until we gaze upon and assist those who have nothing. We often take for granted the food we consume and the place where we live and sleep. Often we complain about the minor inconveniences in our lives-- I know I had a negative thought or two about the firmness of my pillow at the convent. But when I interacted with the lonely inhabitants of the crowded city, I realized we need to put things in perspective. How can we let the mentally disabled and the helpless live outside, on the side of the road? How can we pass by a human soul and ignore it until it withers and decays into the landscape of the city? Why are we groomed to ignore the homeless-- someone’s son, someone’s sister or cousin? Was it a conscious choice that brought them to this street corner? Probably not.

We need to help those who cannot help themselves. This experience gave me a chance to do just that.

Overall I had a very enjoyable experience. The young women I met, conversed with, and worked beside became some of my dear friends, and I know in our travels we will meet again.

Experiencing Elizabeth Seton's New York

photo taken from sacreddestinations.com

In the World Financial Center, photo by S. Kati

Following the Elizabeth Seton tour led by Sister Regina Bechtle in Downtown New York, a volunteer commented that she had a greater sense of Elizabeth Seton's humanity-- both her challenges and generosity.  Seeing the places she walked and house where she lived reminded us that her experience was not so far removed from ours. If she had the same banal struggles and joys as young women like us today, then we can believe in our potential to live and work meaningfully.  As long as there is poverty, there is an opportunity to serve.

Encounters After Hours, The Midnight Run

Reflections by volunteer, Adrienne C., age 23.

Adrienne just completed her Masters in Education at Boston College, where she also received a B.A. in Education and Spanish. She will be teaching Spanish at a junior high in a suburb of Boston this fall.

Last night was a first. I’ve never gone out looking for homeless men and women before; on the contrary, I, along with mainstream America, have tried to pretend they do not exist. I am guilty of turning away on the street and walking by as if the sidewalk were empty. Last night, though, we were on a mission. It was out of my comfort zone to approach someone experiencing homelessness, as I think it is with many people. Homeless men and women are one of the most obvious examples of not only the “other” in society, but also our society’s failure to take care of its weakest and most vulnerable members. As the night went on and I talked to some of the individuals we visited on the streets of midtown, I realized that they are daughters, sons, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, nieces, nephews. One man asked us to watch his things while he went to the van parked around the corner because someone once stole a bag with his teeth and diabetes medication in it. He had to wait a month before he could get his prescription renewed, and, fortunately, his son purchased him some new teeth. It took a moment for the word “son” to register with me. Why on earth would anyone let their father live on the street when they have the means to finance a new set of teeth? After talking with Bill, the “Mother Theresa” of the Midnight Run, I slowly grasped that the issue of homelessness is much deeper and complex than I can even begin to understand. Every homeless individual, like every individual with shelter, has a unique story, set of circumstances, and baggage to deal with. There are a million possibilities why this man’s son cannot take him in, as there are with each of the other people we encountered last night.

I was most struck by the dichotomy of lifestyles in Midtown. Our largest stop, at a church on Fifth Avenue, is perhaps thirteen steps from the Harry Winston store. Someone could feasibly walk into the store, spend a year’s rent on a piece of jewelry, which really serves no purpose other than to look pretty, and then walk by several individuals who, for whatever reason, cannot afford to pay even one month’s rent in Section 8 housing. Well-heeled young women walked by this same spot, and one girl audibly uttered, “That’s so sad.” I’m aware that passersby saw us interacting with the homeless. Their countenances ranged from disgusted to surprised to confused. One man walked by the first client we visited and actually covered his mouth and nose with his shirt, making no effort to conceal his disgust with the man’s stench. Maybe people do notice the homeless, but few actually do anything to meet neither their immediate or long term needs.

The majority of the clients we served were gracious, appreciative, and courteous. This is much more than can be said for some people who can afford to go out to eat at swanky locales and complain about every single aspect of the dining experience, down to the volume of the music in the restaurant. Too many people with privilege take too many things for granted and do not realize that one bad decision, one instance of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or one unexpected medical expense can cause things to change drastically. Like my mother says, “There but for the grace of God.”

Sometime in the next week, I’m going to buy $40 or $50 worth of Dunkin Donuts gift cards and keep them in my wallet. Then, when I see someone one the street who is looking for money for food, I can give them one of these gift cards. It is not the most healthy or nutritious food, but at least they can have the privilege of going into a restaurant, choosing what they would like to eat, and having someone else prepare it and clean up after it. Simply doing this and engaging in a conversation, even a short one, with an individual experiencing homelessness or abject poverty reinforces their humanity. It’s possible that someone who I’m with or someone walking by one the street will think I’m crazy for fraternizing with a dirty, smelly, possibly mentally ill person, but what they believe does not concern me. These men and women are the “little ones” in society, and if they’re good enough for Jesus, they’re good enough for me.

Week-Long Service Experience, St. John's Bread & Life

 photos by Goma

Reflections by volunteer Emily H., age 21

Emily will be entering her senior year this fall at college in Pennsylvania where she studies English and Japanese.

Tuesday, June 8

Today was the third day I’ve worked in St. John’s MSK (Mobile Soup Kitchen)—two more to go, and it’s definitely been an interesting experience. I’ve worked in soup kitchens before, but never on wheels or for this amount of time.

I chose to work at St. John’s because we had already done one day there as a group and I thought it would be fairly simple. It’s true that spooning vegetables into hundreds of Styrofoam containers doesn’t require an awful lot of brain power, but that means I get to think about other things, like the people to whom we’re giving the food. Unless I’m handing out the meals there aren’t a lot of opportunities to people-watch, and even then I still have to concentrate on moving as fast as possible.

However, I have stolen moments here and there to wonder about the hungry people in line—how old are they? How long have they been receiving meals from organizations like St. John’s? Why do some stand off to the side for a half an hour and then join the line? And of course I will never know.

The thing that bothers me most is that I have to assume the worst. Since we can’t give more than one serving to a person unless they have children with them or there are no more people in line, sometimes people will eat and then get back in line and pretend not to have done so. I dislike handing out the food for this reason; I have a very bad memory for faces and probably won’t remember if someone does double back.

The majority of the people who come to the van do understand that we will give seconds when everyone else has eaten, but just those few who don’t make me uneasy and also sad, because for all I know they won’t be eating anything else until the next day. I really wish there weren’t reasons to be skeptical or suspicious of those who are hungry, and maybe eventually there won’t be.

Week-Long Service Experience, Sharing Place Thrift Shop

photo taken from Little Sisters of Assumption website

Reflections by volunteer, Adrienne C., age 23.

Adrienne just completed her Masters in Education at Boston College, where she also received a B.A. in Education and Spanish. She will be teaching Spanish at a junior high in a suburb of Boston this fall.

Sharing Place Thrift Shop at Little Sisters of the Assumption
East Harlem, NY
June 7-10

I spent five years learning about culturally-responsive teaching, biases that exist in standardized testing, and why “minority students” and “underprepared students” are quickly becoming one in the same, but it took volunteering in the thrift shop for me to understand, in part, why the substantial achievement gap between white and nonwhite students exists in this country. As I sorted through piles of children’s books to prepare to help the clients better, I saw some of my favorites from childhood like Chika, Chika, Boom, Boom, Strega Nona, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Stellaluna, and Corduroy. As I picked up some of these classic titles and conversed with Sabrina, I slowly realized that not every child residing in the United States today received the same literature-rich upbringing I did. These titles, and others, which comprise considerable cultural capital in American society, were both available and well-known to me. My mother always took us to the library, and I had a plethora of books to choose from growing up. This picture is a far cry from the lives that many children who enter the doors of Little Sisters of the Assumption on 115th Street lead. It is difficult to take your child to the library if you’re a single parent and work three jobs to make ends meet. Bed bugs, an abusive partner, and cut off utilities are much more important than sitting down to read at night with your child. Teaching phonics, vocabulary development, and reading comprehension is a formidable challenge when the book is published in a language you don’t understand.

The creators of most standardized tests in this country, who more or less hold the keys to the success of America’s youth, do not realize these realities. Or, if they do, they choose to ignore them. All students in a specific state are held to the same standards when they are required to take the state exams to pass high school, and most students wishing to gain access to an institution of higher learning in the United States must take a standardized test. The problem is, students are not standardized, so why should the tool designed to assess them be? To be blunt, students raised in East Harlem with the aforementioned issues have little to no chance of performing as well as me on standardized tests. Period. That may sound harsh, but the truth isn’t always tidy and clean like we want it to be. Expecting the same results from both groups-- the “haves and the have-nots”-- is like expecting two sprinters to finish the 100-meter dash at the same time when one starts 20 meters behind the other. These twenty meters are the endless Clifford, Dr. Seuss, and Boxcar Children books I read or were read to me in my childhood-- it’s pretty damn hard to match “success” as defined by the white, male, straight, English-speaking world when you had no opportunity whatsoever to mitigate your deficit.

Encountering the Sisters of Mary the Queen

Reflection and Photos by volunteer Goma

Goma comes from Nepal to study nursing at the College of Mount Saint Vincent.

Today we went to the Convent of Mary the Queen. This is the place where I started volunteering every Friday or during the weekends since September 2009. It has been my summer home as well. When I first came to this country, I was missing home and had no place to go on the weekends. So I requested Sister Ceil at my college's campus ministry to find me a place where I can visit. This is how I came in touch with the Senior Sisters of Charity. Their unconditional love and guidance has made my stay in this country enjoyable.

We went to the Convent of Mary the Queen around 2:30 pm. Sister Mary Kay Finneran and Sister Linda Giuli gave us an orientation about the convent. The whole purpose of our visit was to meet the Senior Sisters, introduce ourselves, and let them know that we are trying to keep the spirit of Vincent de Paul and Mother Seton, as they did throughout their life. We gave some hand massages to the sisters, and shared our experience about how it feels to serve the poor these past few days, especially when we provide them with their daily meals. All of the sisters appreciated that we were doing this two-week “Charity in the City” program, which according to them is almost like a previous program, “Summer in the City.” It doesn’t matter what it is called-- the whole point was to bring back the spirit of doing something for society, and to continue the spirit of Mother Seton and Vincent de Paul.

When we talk about New York City, we often forget to think that behind or somewhere in the corners of these huge buildings and fancy markets, there are communities who live in poverty. I am so inspired by the Sisters of Charity for their contributions in education, health, and social justice, which have been nurturing society. Mother Seton says “All are Welcome," and that’s how they take care of the community regardless of caste, color, religion, sex, or citizenship. I have been thankful to God and all the Sisters for their unconditional love and guidance. I cannot thank them enough for what I have learned from their inspirational lives. I now do not just want to open a nursing home for the senior citizens in Nepal, but I want to spread the spirit of Vincent de Paul and Mother Seton, and want to make sure that no one dies of hunger or because they did not feel loved. I want to open a place like “Elizabeth Seton Pediatric Centre,” “St. John’s Bread and Life,” or “Midnight Run” and feed, love, and bring people back to society who beg every day in the streets of my beautiful but sad Kathmandu, Nepal. All are welcome to contribute their love, and prayers. God Bless.

Experiencing Manhattan by Subway, Bus and Ferry

Saturday, Sister Charlotte led the group on a subway, bus and ferry tour that included Central Park West, Columbus Circle, Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, Times Square, Bryant Park, Grand Central Station, Staten Island Ferry, the South Street Seaport, and the High Line.

The subway tour took place the day after the farm experience, so using public transit was a great way to put into practice what we learned from Sisters' Hill Farm about environmental sustainability.  Volunteers also commented that it was enriching to see the city "from the inside out--with and through its people."  

Encountering Vegetables

Reflections by volunteer, Adrienne C., age 23.

Adrienne just completed her Masters in Education at Boston College, where she also received a B.A. in Education and Spanish. She will be teaching Spanish at a junior high in a suburb of Boston this fall.

Stanfordville, NY- June 3-4
There is something incredibly humbling about doing manual labor on the farm. It’s good, honest, dignified work that is 100% dependent on natural processes. I can’t really think of any other work that connects workers so intimately with nature. If the crops don’t grow, there’s nothing to pick; thus, there is no work. Despite human attempts to analyze the hell out of things like weather patterns, crop growth, volcanic activity, etc., we are still ultimately subject to the whims of Mother Nature.

At the end of 3 or 3.5 hours harvesting, plucking, weeding, cutting, we were sweaty, tired, and ready for a break. Fortunately, the beauty of upstate New York and the pool at St. Margaret’s awaited us. As I was running along the back roads of Stanfordville, I thought about all of the men, women, and children who have no choice but to labor in the fields day in, day out. We are in New York-- they are in Southern California and other areas where the climate is more temperate and the sun’s rays more determined. We get to escape to air conditioning and return to our comfortable quarters while they retreat to crowded apartments, overzealous immigration officials, and the imminence of getting up and doing the same thing for ten or more hours the next day. I hate to use the separating language of “we” and “they” that draws attention to migrant farm workers’ “otherness,” but it is naïve to go through life thinking that there is a common set of experiences for all people.

What do I take from this? An appreciation that goes into each piece of fruit, ear of corn, and glass of juice I consume. Someone, somewhere labored to afford me this privilege. Chances are, they worked for something lower than minimum wage and toiled for more hours than is permissible by law. Additionally, and of more importance, I am in a unique position to influence hundreds, if not thousands of young people through my chosen career path. By educating my students about the injustices that many people endure so that a nice, ripe Dole banana could be eaten for breakfast in a kitchen in Acton, Massachusetts, I have a small hand in making the world more just. After all, someone taught even the greatest of leaders, from Dorothy Day to Cesar Chavez to Barack Obama, before they grew into successful, influential adults.

View more farm photos.

Ecountering the City's Youth, St. Aloysius School

After our tour of the school library at St. Aloysius, we visited a kindergarten class who recited the following poem for us:

I, Too, Sing America by Langston Hughes

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.

Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.

Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--

I, too, am America. 

Reflection on St. Aloysisus elementary by 2010 Program Assistant and former volunteer, Sabrina

Sabrina is a graduate of Mount St. Vincent and is studying mental health counseling at Columbia University Teacher's College.

There is a phrase that goes something along the lines of, “it just keeps getting better and better." This is truly what I can say for Charity in the City program this year. It never ceases to amaze me how many new experiences, along with the challenges, that I have gained since volunteering in this program two years ago. Even though I may be part of the staff this year, it does not limit me in terms of learning how to give to others in this life of charity. Thus, when I was asked what has touched you over the past two weeks, it was difficult at first because a lot of these experiences touched me. However, the one experience that really inspired me the most was our visit to St. Aloyisious’s School in Harlem. Even though we visited the school for about two hours I was left with something that I will never forget and that is pride.

We often define pride as a quality of someone who is boastful. The pride that I speak of is that of is that of being an African-American woman. Sr. Margaret took us to visit one of the kindergarten classes in the school. When we came in the children sang the song they were going to sing for graduation “Welcome to first grade."  Then they recited in loud and clear voices "I, Too, Sing America" by Langston Hughes. Nothing has touched me more than hearing these kids recite this poem. It brought such joy to my heart that I was actually moved to tears. These children may be too young to understand what this poem means, but for the people who lived during the Civil Rights Movement, the poem signifies a dream that many fought and sacrificed their lives to see fulfilled. Many fought for this dream so that all of us in this world could have the opportunity to interact with other cultures both academically and socially without the rules of segregation.

It saddens me to know that many children in today’s society are not receiving the proper education in the classrooms due to budget cuts, increasing rates of teacher unemployment, etc. Too often I have seen children out of school because of these factors, and also hanging out with the wrong crowd. Thus, many students will not receive the history of those who came before them and never understand why they are so important to us.

Later on that morning, I was blown away by the play put on by the second graders called “I Can Soar Too,” in which every student portrayed characters from Black history such as Martin Luther King, Hattie, Carver, Owens, Obama, etc. It was absolutely amazing to see from a different perspective how each individual in history is constantly climbing on the shoulders of those before, and it is because of those that came before that this new generation can fly. St. Aloysius School has provided a multicultural curriculum to the students in this school and I felt so proud that these children have such a wonderful opportunity to learn about their history. I felt such extreme joy and pride to be an African-American woman. To know how far we have come and how much more we have to go is a blessing, and instilling these values of freedom in the younger generation starts with us.

View more photos of St. Aloysius School.

Experiencing the City's Youth, Elizabeth Ann Seton Pediatric Center

Reflections on Visiting the Elizabeth Ann Seton Pediatric Center by volunteer Jacqueline

Jackie is a junior at the College of Mount Saint Vincent studying special education.

Charity in the City was an experience that I will never forget. All the places that we visited left a strong impression in my heart, but the one that touched me the most was the John Coleman School inside the Elizabeth Seton Pediatric Center. The John Coleman School's mission is educating students with disabilities. I have always wanted to be a teacher who leaves footprints on her students' lives. As many people have told me, the field of special education might be rough, but it is truly rewarding.

During the visit, I got the privilege of sitting in one of the preschool classes in the John Coleman School.  When the teacher found out that I was going into Special Education, she got so excited and said, "That's great; we need more special education teachers out there." I could tell she cared so much about her students even while simply going to each student's assigned area to draw a fish for them to color. One of the boys in the class was coloring in a circular motion rather than straight lines, which is a positive sign of development. One of the girls I was working with had such a lively personality and a contagious smile. She also seemed really sweet because she gave me a sticker.

The school's music teacher also came into the class and did some exercises with the students. He played music and gave out bells for the children to ring, which I thought was a great way to get the students involved with the lesson. I was going to participate in a counting activity in which all the adults would assist the students, but unfortunately, right when it was going to start, our group was leaving. I felt bad because the student I was working with wasn't going to have her own adult to do the activity with her, but there was nothing I could do. When I left the school, I was already aware that it was amazing in so many ways, particularly because of the positive attitude and commitment of the teachers.  I would love to visit the John Coleman School again and get to know the students well.

Experiencing East Harlem, On Foot

Sister Charlotte accompanied the volunteers on a walking tour of East Harlem, where she worked for 18 years. Highlights included visits to the Fox House and to the Little Sisters of the Assumption Health Services building, which houses a thrift shop where three volunteers will work the second week of the Charity in the City program.
See more photos of the tour.

2009 Experience

Melissa Falle, volunteer from the 2009 program and communications specialist for the Sisters of Charity Halifax, wrote the following article for the Sisters' publication.

"We make a living by what we do, but we make a life by what we give."
--Winston Churchill.

When S. Kati Hamm first mentioned the two-week volunteer program she was directing as part of her new position with the Sisters of Charity New York, I knew in an instant that I wanted to be a part of it. The Charity in the City program offered a chance to live and work with Sisters in their ministries to the poor, especially women and children, new immigrants and the homeless. Promotion for the program said, "No experience needed, just a desire to help and a willingness to live simply." Sounds easy enough, right? I thought so, too, until I suffered separation anxiety from my laptop the moment I left home. I admit, I was nervous. I thought I might not fit in with the other participants and that I'd be a loner for two weeks. To my relief, those fears were erased immediately when I met the other eight young women at the opening night reception. We ranged in age from 18 to over 30, we came from various parts of the United States and Canada, and all shared the desire to be of service. Being of service meant getting up early (and by early, I mean 5:30-6:00am!) and going to bed around 10. It meant pushing our personal boundaries when we found ourselves in situations that were outside our comfort zones. It also meant living in community.

For the first week, S.Kati arranged for us to visit various ministries. We did art with medically fragile children at Saint Elizabeth Pediatric Centre. We made sandwiches and prepared toiletry kits for people who are homeless and then toured the city giving them out during the Midnight Run. We boarded a mobile soup kitchen and gave out meals to anyone in need. We pulled vegetables and helped get ready for Saturday distribution at Sisters' Hill Farm, an organic farm run by the Sisters of Charity-New York.

We also held a prayer service at a homeless shelter with S. Dorothy Gallant, the co-founder and director of Life Experience and Faith Sharing Association. What stands out most for me that day was the generosity of one homeless woman in the prayer circle. She gave $20 to a Charity in the City participant who was celebrating her 21st birthday! It was a humbling experience for all of us and with S. Dorothy's assurance, we left knowing that it empowered the woman to be able to share. The second week we each chose a specific ministry. Jessica Gaffney and I went to Saints Peter and Paul School in the Bronx. We sang songs with pre-kindergartners, read to first-graders, and helped with classes in church and at recess. The first grade teacher, S. Carole Ruf, asked her students to write us thank you letters. Perhaps my favourite read: "Dear Melissa, Thank you for visiting us. I love you with all my hart [sic]. I love your reading. From Janeth."

That's just a snapshot of the activity that S. Kati organized for us. She did a fantastic job of keeping us focused and reminding us why we were there. Other Sisters invited us into their homes for meals and some Sisters volunteered their time to show us around the city. Sisters reminded us that our youthful spirits were revitalizing,especially for the elder Sisters we visited at the retirement communities. This exchange went both ways,because we left the program more inspired by the work of the Sisters and with a deeper understanding of the spirit of charism."

More photos from the 2009 program.