Travel Day
I left La Porte, IN in the early hours with two suitcases containing anything I could think of needing in the next year, with the exception of winter clothes which are being brought out to Montana at a later date. I was feeling a mixture of both anxiety and excitement: "Holy Crap! What have a signed up for?" but also "Oh my gosh! This is going to be such a great adventure!" Leaving behind everyone you know and the place you've called home to enter into a world totally unknown is terrifying, yet thrilling.
The plane ride was uneventful. After finally finding my assigned travel buddy once landing in Newark, I knew that completing the rest of the public transportation transfers until we reached our final ride would be much less stressful. Hopping from plane to AirRail to train to bus to van went smoothly, even whilst carrying all of our bags along with us.
We arrived at Stony Point Center in the mid-afternoon. I took a nap and had a snack and then headed to dinner. After dinner, I began meeting my fellow YAVs and some YAVAs while waiting for worship to begin. The real work started in the following days.
The Work Begins
Our week was filled with information, everything from basic policies to how to use city transportation to what white dominance looks like and how we can break the system. Some conversations were difficult. Talking about race and anti-racism is not the usual topic for discussion in most places. Many, if not all, of us sat in the "uncomfortability" of white supremacy systemic racism. We sat in the depths of each others experiences. We sat in the silence that filled the room each time a question posed deeper thoughts and made us decolonize our patterns of response, both the physical and verbal.
I spent most of the week just listening, occasionally adding my thoughts but mostly just listening. It was difficult for me, a very introverted individual, to join a dialogue, especially one of disenfranchisement and power dynamics. This week had a theme, or at least I found one from myself, of getting uncomfortable and disorienting ourselves as we prepared for a year of challenges, new experiences, and change.
City Day!
About halfway through the week, we wandered into New York City. A day that started with much excitement. I had never been to NYC. I had never used the subway system. All of my references were from media; the Spider-Man universe, specially for Brooklyn; Gossip Girl, the clear class divisions; numerous Marvel movies, New York people in general; the list goes on and on as NYC is a “backdrop haven” for the film industry. All of my expectations had this cloud of wonder, but I knew better than to expect my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to swing over a bustling boulevard.
What I didn’t expect is how much of an outsider I would feel like. My blunders using a Metro-card were, thankfully, non-inhibitory in the local hustle and bustle of the city but made it clear from the start that I did not belong here. Later, when we walked around the Brooklyn neighborhood of Bay Ridge, I noted the rolling of eyes and the the slight annoyance of the local residents over this group of predominantly white people walking leisurely through already crowded sidewalks and actually stopping when the crosswalk sign flashed its orange hand, despite no traffic impeding forward movement.
The goal of the day: Blending in. We failed miserably. We failed to pull ourselves out of our perceptions of what New Yorkers expected of us, projecting our hesitations and discomfort on to bodega workers and deli owners. If they were to read this, I would want to say how sorry I am. I am sorry for pushing my white fragility into your space. I am sorry for avoiding eye contact. I am sorry for stuttering through my order and taking up business space with my indecisiveness and whiteness. I did not belong. I felt that in my soul and let that feeling consume me instead of pushing past my discomfort to acknowledge your presence fully and respectfully.
Instead of a day of having fun and seeing a new city, today was more about recognizing my unconscious actions that perpetuate society’s “Us-Them” relationships, this system of power dynamics. I came into a neighborhood, welcomed by the pastor of the 4th Avenue Presbyterian Church and instead of showing kindness and gratitude through interaction, I exhibited indifference through silence and discomfort.
It is not on them to make me feel welcome, they did nothing to make me feel unwelcome. It is not on them to turn my discomfort in comfort, they did nothing to make me feel uncomfortable. It is not on them to teach me, they are not to fault for my ignorance. I am not here to become a “white savior.” I am not here to feel comfortable 100% of the time. I am here to practice recognizing where I can be better and change it. I am here to learn how my language and actions, or inactions, affect people of color and people of the “borderlands.” I am here to sit with my discomfort and disorientation.
Recovery
The week wasn't all stressful. We had an afternoon of self-care activities, everything from running or meditation to music and crafting. It was a great way to have time to process everything we had been learning throughout the week and relax for an hour or so. The latter part of the week was spent on policies and prep for the year we were entering. There was more free-time for us to do whatever we needed, shower, nap, repack, walk around the campus, play Can-Jam, whatever we needed we had time to do so.
No retreat would be complete without a talent show! Who knew the talent that this group of YAVs held? Everything was put on display: comedy, magic, dancing, music, poetry. The show concluded with a dance party that went on for hours. The expected and the unexpected had us ending the week on a fun, relaxed note.
The final night came more quickly than I expected. The last worship service was beautiful, filled with songs and prayers and even a few tears. We said good-byes and see-you-soons, gave hugs and handshakes, shared small prayers and hopes for the year ahead and then went our separate ways. The morning came all too soon, I left Stony Point at 3am and began the final leg of my move to Chinook, Montana where I was welcomed with open arms and home cooked meals.
