Just like at Valpo, the Grünewald Guild has a walking labyrinth outside, just beyond their central building and right next to the river. Anyone can use it at any point of the day, or night even. I actually heard from someone that they went out to walk it at night and stargaze. We use it during our final Vespers service of each program week too; to meditate on all the things we’ve learned from the week, to center ourselves and find a few minutes of peace and quiet inside our busy bodies.

This last week, I started to really pay attention to how the labyrinth walk made me feel in the moment. It’s a triple-spiral, which can mean a lot of things to people depending on their spiritualities, but as you move through the labyrinth, you pass by the spirals you already walked. I’ve been doing a lot of personal discernment lately, and it got me thinking about just my life’s journey thus far. It’s only about two decades worth of memories, but I can see so many different sides of myself when I look back, just like how the spirals loop back to themselves. But I’m not becoming an entirely new person every time I move on or take a new turn, I just add more to my story. My passions and interests, talents, quirks, and experiences all stay with me. They walk with me, even if my path itself is twisting around and around in a dizzying spiral. 

In another of our weekly Vespers activities, we have made our own labyrinths by tracing the shape into a small disk of clay. It’s up to the artist however they want it to look, and each person’s ends up looking a little bit different from their neighbor’s. Sometimes we’ll draw inspiration from one another, sometimes give it a gentle effort but not too much, and other times people think completely outside the box and make their labyrinth into a cube. When these clay labyrinths dry, you can trace your finger through the path either you or someone else made. It’s a way of sharing our stories and paths with each other.

As I’m finishing out my internship here at the Guild with only one week left, I’m looking back on the memories I’ve made with the people and the land around me. Some experiences have opened new doors for me that I’d like to keep open as I come back to Valpo. Others have shown me interesting perspectives and walks of life that add to my understanding of the world and how I engage with it. I think I’ll be visiting our labyrinth at Valpo a lot more often next year.

Blessings,

Gabby Unzicker

Grünewald Guild Intern 

As of late July, I have served as a Communications Intern at Grünewald Guild in Leavenworth, WA for two months as part of my placement as a member of the CAPS Fellows Program. Through working in this position, I have exponentially grown to further refine my vision for my vocation as I approach the final year of my academic career at Valparaiso University. The mission of the guild is highlighted through the three core values of art, faith, and community and, since I am a Music and English major, I initially thought I would gravitate my attention mostly towards the value of art during my time here. Surprisingly, that was not that case and I started to primarily focus upon the aspect of community involvement and how it uniquely manifests itself at this non-profit organization. By nature, I have more of an introverted demeanor and it often takes me a bit of time to feel comfortable with expressing myself in a new environment. Interestingly enough, I did not feel as timid as I typically do during a transitional period of my life, and I think that lack of apprehension I felt is due to the Guild deliberately being a welcoming and community-oriented environment by its very design. 

The manner in which I started to recognize myself leaning towards the value of community was quite subtle and implicit but, in hindsight, the pattern is so obvious. For context, the programming I help advertise through the Guild is called the Waymaking Summer 2024 program where, from June to August, there is an eclectic array of art classes held at Grünewald Guild, and approximately two to four of these classes are taught per week. Whether it be a passion they have indulged in for decades or an unfamiliar pursuit, our students can acquire a new toolbox of inventive skills to pave the way for their artistic endeavors through these classes. Though not included in the dictionary, the term “waymaking” remarkably encapsulates this inquiry because it refers to the peculiar and ever-changing approach that artists take towards their creative undertakings. The length of a programming week varies from four to six days, but the day that begins each week remains relatively routine. Programming always starts on a Sunday and, after dinner, the guild hosts an evening vespers service. 

The opening vespers service on Sunday evenings has an activity that is distinct from the rest of the services that are held throughout the week. Since the week is young and the guests have only just started to filter into Centrum, the main building on the guild’s campus, the staff is curious to what these students plan to make of their stay. To quench that curiosity, our Executive Director, Sarah Sprouse, leads the group in an activity where every participant is asked to share three words that they would like to be descriptors of their upcoming week. Since I regularly attend these services, I share my three words to each new group that makes their way to the guild, and I have started to notice that I use the word “community” as one of my three words invariably. Though this activity is not new to me, I do not have a predetermined set of words that I recite from memory just for simplicity and consistency. I chose my words purely to reflect my own personal aims for each week, but one of those unchanging aims is to learn about the people who surround me and soak in their stories like a sponge. 

Through my daily tasks at Grünewald Guild, I am able to gain this sense of community through doing morning check-ins to supply the studios with ice water and an appropriate amount of art supplies, sitting with the students and guest artists at mealtimes, and engaging in our matins and vespers services. Through these commonplace exchanges, I am able to have meaningful conversations with the students and guest artists, and we are able to learn a lot about each other. There is one simple but incredibly banal question that has been asked many times throughout the vast majority of mealtimes and miscellaneous lulls of leisure and, at first, I thought that this question seemed very superficial and not exceptionally meaningful. Due to the clientele being art lovers, I have learned that this question has a lot more gravity associated with it than I originally expected. The question is, “What is your favorite color?” and an individual’s answer to this question acts as the key to learning a lot about them and their outlook on life. 

During the first week of the Waymaking Summer 2024 program, there was an artist talk during one of our morning matins services by Nancy Marsh, a returning guest artist at Grünewald Guild and former art professor at Valparaiso University. She was teaching a weaving class that week and, through this class, her students were able to choose from a wide assortment of colors to create their zesty concoctions. From her artist talk, Nancy elaborated that she does not believe that the choices her students make for the colors of their fabrics made on a whim or by a mere coincidence. She created an intricate chart that acts as a roadmap for the different emotional connotations that are associated with each color of the rainbow, and discussed how she took into account the specific colors that each of her students were drawn to. Through this method of quiet observation, she was able to deeply fathom the complexities of the mindsets of her students. 

This artist talk made me think about how, in recent years, active listening has been extensively studied and education about the topic has been embraced by the general public in order to promote empathy and kindness to those in our communities. I think that this truly eye-opening color theory offers a way that people can practice the art of active listening in a helpful and rare configuration. As a writer, I regularly find myself listening to the way in which other people choose to explain certain concepts to learn how to further fortify the strength of my own voice and perspective. I was exceptionally fascinated with Nancy’s casual phrasing of a particular concept within this color theory, and this quotation has branded itself in my brain. To describe how people are so allured to how variations of colors compliment and coexist with one another, she described this occurrence as being “higher than indigo” due to our divine connection that blesses humans to be able to perceive a never-ending multitude of colors. That phrase moved so swiftly and effortlessly off of her tongue and, upon hearing the verbiage used, I wrote it down as fast as I could so that I could remember it. 

Conversely, my favorite color is not indigo. My favorite color is red. I appreciate the versatility of the color red in its portrayal of emotions. Different shades of this color can overtly represent themes ranging broadly from love to passion to aggression. I have affectionately called the color red the “main character color” due to it boldly being the line leader of the rainbow. There have been multiple instances of students and guest artists at the Guild indirectly acknowledging that red is my favorite color, but there are two occasions that most notably come to mind. During a family-oriented week, there were two children who gave me a thank you card at the end of their time at the guild, and every word and image contained in my specific card was written in red crayon. One of the guest artists, Dede Shilling, and I bonded over the fact that red was both of our favorite colors and we deliberately decided to film our guest artist interview for the Guild’s website while both wearing red. I appreciate that the guild is a mindful community that takes the time to notice and find beauty within the small characteristics of all the members within their community. As cliché as it sounds, I feel as though the “v” in vocation stands for vibrancy and I have definitely found direction in my vocation through the vibrancy of the close-knit community facilitated at Grünewald Guild.

• Jasmine Collins, Communications Intern at Grünewald Guild

Reconnecting with my high school viola teacher after three years brought up her valid question of, “Any updates with what you want to do with your life?” When I replied, “Well, I want to apply for programs to study or teach in another country for a year… Then possibly grad school for something ‘international’…” we both had to pause and laugh; nothing had changed in the three years since we’d last talked. I still didn’t have a set plan.

Driving home that afternoon to get back to work with the Valparaiso International Center (VIC), I questioned everything. Why I still didn’t know, why I still didn’t have everything figured out. The following day, my CAPS interview project changed my perspective on everything.

For my CAPS interview, I met with Hugh McGuigan, VIC Board President but also a
Valparaiso University legend, and hearing about his adventures and international experiences made me realize that maybe vocation doesn’t have to be perfectly planned. Having worked as Director of International Studies and professor of orientation and English classes for international students, Dr. McGuigan was instrumental in growing VU’s study abroad programs, designing plans for what used to be the Gandhi King Center in the Harre Union, and supporting language programs for decades. He was there for the international students 24/7, and he emphasized the importance of immediately making freshly-arrived students feel welcome; that first impression was everything.

Yet, how did his VU legacy, based on compassion and love for his students, come to be? Through years of exploration, travel, life experience, and the ever-present need to give back. Dr. McGuigan’s experience abroad started as a military deployment in Europe, studying Russian linguistics, and led to traveling the continent afterwards, living in a German-intensive language community with people from around the world, and many more adventures. After returning to the US and earning his PhD in German, he never forgot the feeling of being the traveler and the joys and struggles that came with it.

These life experiences unfolded for Dr. McGuigan by following his love for language, travel, and culture, and he brought years of international immersion with him into his role at VU. This is not to say that this path did not require extremely hard work. After all, Dr. McGuigan started his international journey with military service and ended it with a doctorate degree. Discipline and planning were not absent. Yet, discipline and hard work are not the opposite of wandering and not knowing. I realized after talking with this incredible man that there is no syllabus for life, with the exact dates of projects and exams written ahead of time. There are challenging moments or events to prepare for, yes. But it is also possible, perhaps necessary, to leave time to explore.

Three years have passed since I entered VU, and I honestly am not done figuring out my next steps. But what I can say is that, after talking with Dr. McGuigan, I am not in the same place I was during freshman FOCUS. Living with other VU international students, struggling to understand new accents when studying in Spain, organizing the World Cultural Festival I used to attend as a child… These life experiences have unfolded for me over the years. And I believe vocation will, too.

• Lucia Otten, Valparaiso International Center

As I near the end of my time at Jacob’s Ladder, I am once again given the chance to reflect on the different experiences and opportunities I have been given this summer. Among all the different opportunities that I have had at my placement, the ones that stick out the most to me are those where I could attend other meetings/events in the community. All of the events that I attended gave me the chance to meet new people, have meaningful discussions with others, and learn new information. These events helped me get out of my comfort zone and learn new information that I will carry with me far beyond my time at Jacob’s Ladder. 

One of my favorite events that I got to attend was a collaborative meeting with other organizations in Porter County that serve the 0-3-year-old age group. This event served as an opportunity for different non-profit organizations to talk with one another and discuss the possibility of working together for an upcoming grant. Though it was overwhelming at first being in a new environment with many new faces, I felt welcomed and that my voice was just as important as anyone else who was in attendance. I was able to meet new people, share my perspective, and hear other perspectives. I was also able to learn about how organizations such as Hilltop and the YMCA are benefiting the community. 

Another event that I attended that I am very grateful to have attended was where a psychiatrist and professor from Ohio State University spoke. The speaker spoke about psychosis, schizophrenia, and early intervention efforts that are helping those affected. I was very appreciative to attend this event because this topic interests me particularly and I was happy to learn more about it from an expert in the field. At this event, the speaker communicated useful information on how to better help this population, shared research, and stated what kind of language and labels can be stigmatizing. I not only found this speaker very interesting and compelling but it allowed me to reflect on how we can better accommodate this population and help them receive the help they need. 

A direct impact of attending these events was that it helped me meet new people and have experiences that I wouldn’t have otherwise had the chance to have if I had been in the office that day. Though, I didn’t expect how it would help me reassess what is important. It’s not just about clocking into work and getting your hours, but about having the ability to learn from others, hear new stories, and reflect based on others’ perspectives. After having these pleasant experiences within the community, I couldn’t help but notice how my work performance and creativity improved. 

At the beginning of June, I moved to a town I had never visited, to live in a house I had never seen, and to work with people I had only spoken to over Zoom. My family dropped me off, and once I had all of my things arranged, I sat on the bed and had a strange but very familiar feeling wash over me: What do I do now?  I had the whole night ahead of me, but everyone I know and everything I do was scattered everywhere but here. The empty span of time ahead of me felt dizzying. So, I just sat there in the what-now feeling, thinking. I began to think about why this feeling was so familiar to me, and I thought of all of the other transitions I have had like this throughout my whole life: from the five times I moved as a kid, to the move into college, to my trip studying abroad, I began to realize that this is all old hat to me. I have done this before, and sure enough, I have done this again. 

In my time so far interning at Girls on the Run Northwest Indiana, I have been given many opportunities like this to sit and think. Certainly, to think about what I am doing. When sorting through data of school after school, exploring websites, Free and Reduced Lunch Rates, number of students, and how the different regions creatively allocate their resources into different forms of school buildings and structures, it is hard to keep one’s mind from thinking about what you are doing. But beyond what I am doing in the moment, I have had time to think about how vividly this data shows the vast difference in how each child is being shaped by their communities. Time to think about what kind of agencies we have in the shaping, individually or through programs like GOTR, and how adults have been and continue to be shaped by their communities in the same way as kids. My brain grounded in these numbers or more menial tasks like stuffing envelopes, my mind has been free to go swirling to how I have been shaped by the communities I have been a part of, and how structures in all societies are formed based in the context of these communities. School, family, friends, towns, religions, countries… we are all constantly shaping the world that is constantly shaping us. 

As a sociology major, and a long-time member of planet Earth, such trains of thought are not overwhelming nor new for me. However, the amount of time that I have had to think them are both overwhelming and new. Often, I fear that when I get into un-timed thought spirals like these that I will never get out. Or worse yet, that they will choke themselves out into a nothing of thoughtlessness. These anxieties spike when my hybrid work schedule allows time for my thoughts to cover and recover every topic that pops up, occasionally even circling themselves back into a deafeningly unfamiliar silence. 

In this silence, just like in the emptiness of the first night, I am faced with both a concern and a solution. This time, I am reminded of once when, having joked that I am known by those close to me to overthink things, a dear friend of mine replied that he does not believe that overthinking is a thing. This is because he has never worried that someone was going to overthink something but has known many people to be concerned about someone underthinking things. Now, thinking back on it, in the thoughts or in the silence of having completed thinking them, I believe that he is right, and that there is no worry in thinking however much my mind chooses to think, because at least I have had the opportunity not to underthink things. And, with the contexts of what facets of the world I am shaped by and am shaping, I feel just how privileged I am to have time to think about thinking.  

• by Katherine Naylor, Girls on the Run

As my internship draws to a close, I’m faced with the same question that I begin the internship with. Why am I working with an environmental non-profit, what difference could I ever make?

After all, some of the largest companies in the world will still produce overwhelming amounts of waste byproduct, people will continue to toss their trash out their car window, and large chunks of plastic will always dot our beaches like sick leaves on a dying plant. Trees will be replaced by light poles, native plants by decorative shrubs. Those involved with environmental activism will still bravely stand their ground against those who couldn’t care less and have more money than most people could ever imagine.

Quite frankly, my voice seems quite small amid the roaring of those who know more, have more, ARE more than me. In a world where it is much easier to do nothing than speak up for what we believe in, we all must make a decision to voice what we believe in. My heart has exponentially grown since my first day at Save the Dunes, and the non-profit has sparked a passion for the world that is knocking on our front door.

And in a seemingly insignificant moment sitting in our company meeting room, I realized my voice resonates. It bounces off the floor to the wall, again off the ceiling, being heard by those who sit in the room with me. I am not soundless, I am not voiceless, and I do make an impact. Maybe it won’t change the world, but it might just make my peers think a little differently than they did before.

My opinions do matter, and it is possible to voice them loudly. Like a small rock making waves in a pond, a grass growing in the middle of a cracked sidewalk, a bee pollinating the vegetables in a neighborhood garden. My voice is not as small as I have been made to believe.

Maybe the future I dream of is within reach, because my voice resonates.

• by Heather Elwood, Save the Dunes

As I sit down to write this blog post, one realization crosses my mind. It is the realization that time keeps marching forward, and that is especially true when it comes to summer and my placement. As of the first week of July, I have officially hit the halfway mark of my duties serving Opportunity Enterprises and Camp Lakeside. The phrases “Time flies when you’re having fun” and “You never truly appreciate what you have until it’s gone” perfectly define and encompass what this experience has been. As I look back at what I have accomplished, a lot of it hasn’t felt as actual work. This is not only true for myself, but also for the campers and staff that I interact with on a daily basis. While much of my job is done behind the scenes, I also have many opportunities throughout the week to interact with campers in a way that I still fulfill my duties as a researcher for the camp and OE as a whole. 

While my main focus is of course gathering the necessary data through my observations, this can be done in a variety of ways. As the weeks of camp have passed I have learned that, for much of what I do, I don’t always have to be a separate entity. As I collect data, I have many ways that I am able to collect, which can vary day to day. I have found that what makes my job the easiest is putting my plain, frankly boring, white binder full of assessments, and enjoying the freedoms of childhood with the campers. Most days, there are set activities that each group of campers have the opportunity to participate in (such as archery, water play, art, music, etc.). These activities, as well as a few others, allow me to interact with campers in ways where I am able to observe and collect the necessary data, while also getting the chance to have a sort of “neutral ground”. Because of the position that I am in, as a sort of 3rd party, as compared to other staff such as counselors, I am able to participate in the various games and activities as someone who isn’t directly linked to the campers or the group. This might mean going on a nature walk around the edges of the lake where the lily pads grow, or playing a game of kickball. Much, if not all, of what I am observing in the clients/campers is the potential growth in various skills that are important in social wellbeing, independence, and friendship building. And as my supervisor has said from the beginning of us working together, “One of the greatest tools for learning is play”. 

As I look back and reflect on this journey so far, there have been many things to appreciate. One of the most impactful to me is having the opportunity to interact (in so many different ways) and talk with the campers and OE clients on a regular basis. My job is to learn about these individuals and assess how they are improving or changing based on certain criteria and assessments, but I have found that I have learned almost as much about myself as I have about them. Working in this type of environment has a way of shining a light on who we are as a society, and who we are as individuals, and I am truly grateful for all that has come my way up until this point. 

Your fellow at Opportunity Enterprises and Camp Lakeside, 

Rasheed Jibriel

We often hear the phrase “don’t make excuses, make improvements”. For many, this may be a difficult thing to be told – this kind of statement misses and overlooks the individual nuances and circumstances of the situation we find ourselves in. But despite these challenges, we now find ourselves forced to continue on with no acknowledgement of them.

Although I was not aware that I could have a new perspective on this idea, my time so far working in refugee and immigrant resettlement at Heartland Alliance has brought me one. But before I analyze that piece further, I want to take you through my time so far as an intern on the employment team.

As I onboarded remotely during my first week, rather than being assigned training to do on the side, I was immediately put on meaningful tasks: calling refugees and immigrants involved with Heartland’s programs (referred to as “participants” from hereon). I spoke with them about their work history, goals, and made resumes for them. Of course, not only was it my first week on the job, but I also had never spoken at length with a newly arrived refugee. I also had never made a resume for someone other than myself. I was briefed about what to expect, but my learning of this process was to come through the performing of the tasks, and through the mistakes I would make with real-life participants. 

I had no choice but to find “improvements”, or what would be in this case, solutions.

When I arrived in Chicago, IL to begin my in-person work, I encountered many of the same experiences. In addition to making more calls, I was assigned to take groups of participants to group job interviews at employers around the city on public transportation. Not only was I navigating new parts of Chicago for the first time, but I was also navigating the challenges of making sure every participant was prepared both logistically, physically, and even emotionally for the interviews. I was extremely nervous to carry out these trips. But I had no choice. The participants were expecting to go to their interviews, and the employers were expecting me to arrive. I had to find solutions.

But possibly the most profound moment came on my first day in the office. Upon my arrival, I sat down to shadow and observe a meeting between my supervisor and a participant to resolve a miscommunication. The conversation was being facilitated by an interpreter (although the participant had a basic level of English). The participant was expressing some frustrations and challenges (ones outside of Heartland’s jurisdiction) that he was facing in his first few months in the US, understandably asking for sympathy and for Heartland to fix them. 

My supervisor told the participant firmly, but with care, that she herself was an immigrant to the United States several years ago too, telling him that “When you are an immigrant, excuses do not help you, because no one else cares. Immigrants cannot make excuses. We can only find solutions”. Although it may seem insensitive to some, at that moment my supervisor had only one goal – to ensure that the participant in front of her obtained a job and kept a roof over his and his family’s head at all costs. She expressed to him that he had no time to think about which parties were to blame for each problem in the past. He only had time to think about the solutions.

Not only do the folks who work at Heartland have to come up with solutions on a day-to-day basis in our work, but the participants must do the same thing. Only for them the consequences do not simply pertain to their job, but rather their entire lives. Throughout my first month working here, I have realized that it is a privilege to have the time and bandwidth to distribute blame and air grievances in other areas of work and life. Some people do not get such a luxury.

When I take a step back now and consider Heartland’s broader role in its community, it falls in some sense along the lines of this exact idea, providing solutions in all kinds of forms in housing, employment assistance, vocational English language training and even trauma assistance. The team here can only think in these terms (solutions, that is); when people’s livelihoods depend on you, you have no choice.

So the next time you come across a challenge in your workplace or life and look to blame someone else, be mindful of your relative position of privilege: there are others in the world who cannot afford to do that. Sometimes it may be beneficial and correct to assess blame for such a challenge. But other times, it might just be better to find a solution. 

• by Aidan Obermueller, Heartland Alliance

Now that I have over a month of my CAPS fellowship under my belt, it is easy to slip into a routine and let the day-to-day pass by quickly, and without much thought. May and June were a blur of emails back and forth, numerous to-do lists scribbled on Post-it notes, Zoom call meetings, and countless hours of staring at my computer screen. Don’t get me wrong, I am enjoying the work I’m doing and staying busy throughout the long summer days. I enjoy my lists and checking off projects as I complete them. But lately, a little voice in my head has reminded me of the importance of recognizing the small moments of purpose and slowing down before the summer comes to a close.

Recently, I am grateful to have had two distinct moments that have not only forced me to slow down and reflect but also that have reminded me of my purpose and calling. I had the privilege of attending the June Point of Contact meeting for the IU Health/American Red Cross Alliance in place of my supervisor, Colleen. These monthly meetings bring together the points of contact for the IU Health hospitals that are in the Red Cross Alliance to share upcoming volunteer opportunities and stay in the loop of everything going on.​​ This meeting was my first touchpoint with other members of the Alliance, and it allowed me to see the bigger picture of the work I am doing. I realized that the projects I’d been assigned to (an updated informational packet for the volunteers and a summer newsletter) were going to be distributed to all these hospitals and make a tangible impact on volunteers, both new and old. Being able to speak in the meeting and give updates both on what I was working on and what my supervisor told me to report, gave me a sense of purpose and importance that I was so desperately craving. The work I was doing mattered, and this moment solidified that reminder for me. Working remotely, it is hard to see the larger picture and the ripple effects that the work I’m doing has, so attending this meeting and feeling more ‘in-the-know’ gave me a brief yet tangible glimpse of the greater IU Health and American Red Cross Alliance.

The other moment occurred during my first meeting with my alumni mentor, Caroline. I wasn’t sure what to expect going into my call with Caroline, who is living on the other side of the world in London, working for a non-profit. However, the hour-long conversation I had with Caroline was vital in giving me clarity. I was honest with Caroline about how I was feeling and the lack of purpose I had been experiencing. She spoke the words I needed to hear, and I furiously scribbled in my planner next to me, soaking up every word (see picture). Caroline reminded me that at the end of the day, this is my internship, and I need to advocate for myself to have the experiences I want to have. She also encouraged me to lean into the parts of the internship that I did enjoy and to create more opportunities for myself. I had mentioned to her just how much I enjoyed the Point of Contact meeting and connecting with other people, and Caroline told me to continue to foster those connections and take the initiative to attend more of these meetings or even meet with these people individually. She told me about her own experiences with CAPS and the workforce and how oftentimes she has created her own work, which is more often than not encouraged and supported by a supervisor. Overall, Caroline reminded me that my purpose can be in my own hands, and I don’t have to just sit around and wait for it to come along. I can play an active role in shaping it how I want it to be.

Reflecting on these two experiences, I can now say that sometimes purpose is not always crystal clear and handed to you on a silver platter. Rather, it shows up in small, unexpected ways that surprisingly are sustainable to keep you going, even if the work feels repetitive or useless. Those moments can be easily overlooked, so I’ve begun to truly revere the importance of pausing, taking a step back, and looking at the bigger picture. Journaling frequently throughout the CAPS process has been especially helpful, as it has forced me to not only recount my experiences but look back and see how they’ve shaped me and my purpose. I can read back my entries and see just how far I’ve come and how the purpose I’ve recognized and shaped has evolved throughout the summer so far. I am so grateful for the small moments that have become significant in developing who I am and why I’m here. I’m looking forward to the rest of the summer, the work I’ll do, and the little moments of purpose to come!

• Grace Roberts, American Red Cross

Curiosity killed the cat is a saying that I have heard throughout my child and young adult life. While it may be true in some situations, the age old saying takes away from what I believe to be one of humanities’ main functions, and that is to explore the unexplored.

The Grunewald Guild is an art retreat center, located in the Cascade Mountains, that focuses on exploring the connection between art, faith, and community and how these pillars interact during the weeklong courses. I have had the wonderful opportunity to visit most of these course sessions and photograph them. When I have done this type of work in the past, I always had the feeling that I was a fly on the wall, trying to blend into the background as to not disturb the class. However, the classes here immediately incorporate me into their community. Sometimes the instructor will start explaining the work that the students are doing or even offer me some of their snacks, so they were not tempted to eat them later! Overall, they were curious to learn about my work and my history.

My time living in an intentional working community has presented many mysteries to explore. I learned only a portion of what it takes to live in a community that cares for itself and exists on deeper level than purely social interactions. One lesson I learned is that communication is key to live in harmony with one another and nature. For example, a staff member alerted the rest of the staff of a small black bear living near one of the trails that connects portions of the Guild’s campus. Naturally I wanted to stay away from the bear but a part of me wanted to catch a glimpse of the animal. In this case curiosity might have put me in harm’s way which is why I am choosing to write about that curiosity instead of chasing after the bear.

To extrapolate the point further, my time at the Guild has pushed me to lean into the curious nature of the human spirit. To chase the mysteries that life holds. Within my conversations between staff and guests, I have learned that it is easy to fall into the trap of a content and comfy life, but that lack of curiosity in life leads to a lack of creativity, key component of unique problem solving. 

Having a strong sense of curiosity has allowed the students of the Guild to strengthen their sense of community with not only other students but staff as well. There are so many lessons to be learned that would not be shown the light of day if it were not for a curious person asking a question.

With all this being said, I urge the readers of this blog to keep chasing the mystery in life. Why did you choose to wear those colors today? What are you chasing after? Please don’t limit yourself to life as you know it because who knows what the world offers for you to explore.

-Corey McClure, Grunewald Guild

“Jasmine Dancers”: This image from last year’s World Cultural Festival features the Jasmine Dancers traditional Chinese dance group and hints at the wonderful performances this year’s festival has in store.

As a child, I loved attending a certain small festival in a downtown Valparaiso parking lot that sold trinkets from around the world. Maybe there were a couple performers singing melodies from other countries, or a food tent or two. What I didn’t know was that, years later, I would be working to put on that same festival, now celebrating its 15th anniversary and expecting to host 2,500 – 3,000 attendees in a unified celebration of international cultures. With the CAPS Fellows Program, I am interning with the Valparaiso International Center (VIC) in preparation for its annual World Cultural Festival, where I have already learned so much about event planning and the importance of relationships in community work.

I believe the most eye-opening technical aspect of my internship so far has been realizing the sheer mountain of details that goes into planning an event. Focusing on just one area of festival preparation, I’ve come to see that, no matter how amazing the day-of setup is, nothing matters without marketing. After all, if people don’t know about the event, they won’t come. VIC founder Duane Davison explained to me that we need to meet people in every place that they exist in the community.

So I’ve worked with a professional graphic designer to put an ad in a magazine, and we will soon release our festival’s poster design to be posted in cafés, stores, libraries, and even VU’s campus. I am also putting together a social media plan, and the VIC is including billboard ads for the first time in their marketing. By far, my favorite way we plan to get the public involved is having our first-ever float in Valparaiso’s Popcorn Festival Parade. Helping design one of the larger-than-life popcorn floats I’ve loved seeing all my childhood is truly a full-circle moment.

Working with the VIC has also shown me the importance of understanding relationships in the community. Nothing happens in a vacuum, and putting on this event has required participation from everyone from the Chamber of Commerce to the local library to Menards. I’ve met with individuals of all sorts of backgrounds and personalities, and  I’ve been surprised by how much I’ve enjoyed this in-person work. I believe this internship has nudged me in the direction of looking for a career that includes lots of social interaction. I’ve also learned to look for the humanity and beauty in the “non-efficient” parts of workday interactions, whether they be meandering topics of conversation during a meeting or attending non-work events with fellow VIC members.

I remember in particular one evening when I drove out to our warehouse with others from the VIC team to take inventory of and clean our festival banners. However, we ended up spending an hour weeding an adjacent garden and talking about family, travel, and all sorts of topics. Looking back, I deeply valued this evening in the sunset garden as an authentic human blip in an otherwise work-driven world. Taking time for conversation is healing for the soul, and I hope to take this value of relationship-building with me into any future profession.

My elementary school self would have never guessed that, one day, I would be helping put on the World Cultural Festival I loved going to every year. Now, I find it hard to believe how fast the summer is flying by, and how every day uncovers a new aspect of this community I thought I had all figured out.

Come join the VIC for our World Cultural Festival on Sunday, September 15, 2024, from 12pm-5pm in Valparaiso’s Central Park Plaza!

• Lucia Otten, Valparaiso International Center

The easiest way to get to 1841 North Laramie Ave from Austin, Chicago by 10 AM every weekday without a car is to take the Green Line at Austin via Ashland/63rd, get off at Laramie & Lake, then take bus 57 towards Grand/Latrobe and get off at Laramie & Bloomingdale. In theory, this journey should only take about 33 minutes: a 5-minute walk to the station, a 12-minute train ride to Laramie & Lake, a 14-minute bus ride to Laramie & Bloomingdale, and a 2-minute walk north towards the building, meaning I could leave my house at 9:20 AM.

Public transportation in Chicago is a rite of passage for newcomers. Despite its numerous benefits
over private car usage, it can be difficult to navigate. I had visited Chicago a few times and only used the trains, which are easy to navigate with clear stations, platforms for delay and inactive train updates, and CTA personnel available for inquiries. This time, however, I had to learn how to use the bus system, which was unfamiliar but could cut up to 20 minutes off my transit time. In other words, I missed at least one bus every day during the first week and boarded the wrong bus going in the wrong direction three times that same week. It was humbling.

At first, I was really annoyed with myself, wondering, “Why am I struggling with this? If I’ve triple-checked everything and still get on the wrong bus, what am I missing? Should I just Uber it?” Then, I became frustrated with the people around me who, despite hearing my struggle, offered no new
information on how to navigate the system. My frustration stemmed from insecurity. What is wrong with me that I can’t figure out how to use the system efficiently when so many others just seem to know?
While it didn’t overwhelm me, by the end of the week and the start of the next, I accepted that my
commute would be extra long until I could see the patterns in the system.

And I did. By the end of the second week, I knew everything: which buses to take, which ones
ran on time, which ones rarely showed up, and what time specific lines stopped running. It was liberating.

This experience with public transportation, however, is not uncommon. On the contrary, it is a shared
experience among those who aren’t Chicago natives. While I didn’t receive great advice the first week, I
did hear many stories of people having similar experiences and recounting the ridiculous adjustments they had to make when using the system.

As I recapped the week with my mom, it hit me. Every time I get a glimpse of what my calling
could be, insecurities chase me, and I find myself lost in the confusion and uncertainty, often aborting
missions. I prefer to take the Uber rather than figure out a system that could take 3, 4, or even 5 shortcuts to reach my destination. Realizing this, I started to be more aware of what I was avoiding at my internship and recognized that I haven’t been as open as I thought I was to this new and unfamiliar space. It was eye-opening but motivating.

Long story short, if I leave my house by 8:55 AM to catch the 9:06 AM train via Cottage Grove at
Austin Station—which goes in the same direction as Ashland/63rd and runs approximately every 6
minutes—I can transfer to bus 57 towards Grand/Latrobe at 9:25 AM. This bus always arrives on time,
unlike the 9:32 AM or 9:42 AM buses, which have spottier arrival times and more delays. Getting off at
Laramie & Bloomingdale, I’ll arrive at the office with 15 to 20 minutes to spare. During those spare
minutes, I take the time to prepare and create a list of goals for the day, reminding myself of what I want to achieve from this experience and how I will need to go about it, allowing the process to flow naturally.

-Noemi Vela, By the Hand

For my second blog in two weeks, I was really struggling to find an experience that I did not touch on the week before this. As I was reflecting on my summer, already at the halfway point of this experience with Jacob’s Ladder and the CAPS Fellowship, I was thinking about what is a lesson I have learned.

I feel that the biggest takeaway I have had is how much better of an experience is gained when you simply are present in the moment. In our world today, there are a million things that can distract you when you are bored or to pass the time. When I first started at Jacob’s Ladder, I often found my
mind wandering or thinking about how much time till lunch, or when I get to go home. It
was not that I was not enjoying the work, I was just distracted. I was really struggling
with this when I thought back to the key part of the CAPS Fellowship, reflection.

As I was reflecting on my first couple days, I knew I needed to figure out a way to be less distracted. I decided no matter what, I was gonna just throw myself at all the work I could possibly do and really focus. By week 2, I felt I was already improving. I noticed when I was doing administrational paperwork and doing therapy sessions with the patients at Jacob’s Ladder. I realized if I just focus on fully immersing myself in the work, time flies quickly and you end up enjoying the work even more.

This focus on being in the moment became key when we had a big deadline this past week for an important grant for our company. The deadline for the grant writing that myself, and another one of
the interns had to do, got moved up and we were in a time crunch. I felt stressed at first, but then I realized with what I had been practicing, it would be okay. By using the reflective portion of CAPS and just the need to improve, Natalie and I were able to get the grant done in plenty of time and we submitted it the next day.

CAPS has really improved my work habits and just understanding of myself through reflection, and how important being in the moment is.

• Colin Graves, Jacob’s Ladder Pediatric Rehab

They say that those who can’t do, teach. That’s never made much sense to me. How is someone supposed to teach something they’ve never experienced? I mean, you have to at least know the knowledge if you’re trying to pass it on. On the other hand, teaching is just another form of communication, so having a receptive audience does make a huge difference. Luckily for me, the first- through third-grade students enrolled in the Little Village READS summer program at Erie Neighborhood House are definitely there to learn.

Having never worked with children before (or even taught groups in a formal setting, for that matter), I’d been pretty anxious before starting my internship at Erie House. For the week before the students started, my time was occupied by emails, lesson plans, supply checks, book shelving, and everything else I could think of doing to prepare and make sure that the summer would get off to a smooth start; frankly, it had me kind of worried. Not knowing exactly what to expect, I could only fear the worst: brainrotted Gen-Alphas who wouldn’t be able to sit still and focus on anything for more than thirty seconds if it wasn’t plugged into the Internet.

Come Monday, I realized that I couldn’t have been more wrong. As the kids trickled in from drop-off, I did my best to introduce myself and welcome them to what will essentially be their summer school, thinking that they’d be dreading every additional minute in a classroom past the regular academic year’s last bell. Instead, they were immediately finding ways to entertain themselves, looking through our bookshelves, drawing, solving puzzles, and eagerly chatting away with their friends as soon as they walked in the door. Not a screen in sight. One of the boys even asked me if he could go outside to check on the garden and water the vegetables; I was more than happy to oblige him. In that moment, I felt better about the next generation than I ever thought was reasonable.

As the day went on, I got to know the students and see how they learn; not a one of them is without curiosity. Whether it’s from the books they choose for free reading, the way they participate in lessons and projects, or the wide-ranging questions that pop out their heads (what’s the sun made of, where do cicadas come from, Messi or Ronaldo for GOAT, etc.), there is a constant reminder that people really do crave a sort of understanding for the world around them. That shared sense of wonder is precisely why I applied for CAPS in the first place. Teaching or learning, it’s all part of what gives purpose to being human, no matter how old you are. In terms of vocation, personally, I’m just grateful for the opportunity to be a part of that wonder.

• Lucas Lennen, Erie Neighborhood House