Author Archives: ebrown15

Change Your “Look”

“It’s a new challenge to see how people can change your look. I like words like transformation, reinvention, and chameleon. Because one word I don’t like is predictable.” ~Naomi Campbell

Outside of the deportation staging center at Broadview, IL

Outside of the deportation staging center at Broadview, IL

People have changed my “look” or outlook during my time with the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants. Each day the volunteers, the staff members, and the people that ICDI ministers to have given me a chance to learn more about the immigration system and the work of ministry. Fridays with the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants have been especially transformational. They have also been some of the most difficult days of the work week for me. However, it is not for the reasons one might typically think of. Fridays are not difficult because I have to get up early. Fridays are not difficult because it is the last day of the work week. Fridays are not difficult because I am anxiously awaiting for the weekend. Each Friday is difficult because of the loss and heartbreak that is so prevalent in the morning of this day each week.

Every Friday morning, the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants goes to the deportation staging center in Broadview, Illinois for a prayer vigil. The staff and volunteers of ICDI stand in solidarity with our immigrant brothers and sisters and accompany families that are about to say goodbye to loved ones leaving the country. The ministry is difficult. I find myself desperately trying to grasp for words that could fix the heartbreak. However, every week, I find myself at a loss for words. “I’m sorry,” does not take away the pain of losing a father, a husband, a brother, a mother, a wife, or a sister. My words do not wipe away the tears streaming down the faces of the little children or parents or siblings.

Inspirational quote found in a Chicago park

Inspirational quote found in a Chicago park

However, amidst the heartbreak, I do see hope on these Fridays as well. Everyone that attends the prayer vigil always is transformed. Volunteers, pastors, priests, nuns, imams, rabbis, and laypeople stand with these men, women, and children. They stand with these families. They hear their cries and they hold them in their hearts. The encounter with our immigrant brothers and sisters leaves everyone with questions and a new perspectives on compassionate immigration reform. People go forth with new thoughts in mind. They cannot forget the cries or the faces or the names of the people impacted. Their perspective or “look” on the topic of immigration is always touched in some way. They seek positive change in the immigration system. And in this time of trial, the families affected every Friday are reminded that they are loved, being prayed for, and not forgotten.

A vegetable garden created during my time with ICDI at the House of Hospitality

A vegetable garden created during my time with ICDI at the House of Hospitality

On these Fridays, I also see hope at ICDI’s House of Hospitality in Hyde Park, Illinois. After the prayer vigil on Friday mornings, I travel to I spend the rest of my day at this house for teens, women, and their children who have been released from detention. I see hope in this place… a hope for a positive outcome not just the people residing in the home, but a hope without bars that could be a reality for all of our immigrant brothers and sisters. My interactions with the mothers, teens, and children bring moments of pure joy. I have loved getting to know all of the beautiful people and hear their stories. Each week has been filled with amazing memories I will not forget.

A couple of weeks ago at the House of Hospitality, I was playing with some of the little kids, and a little girl decided that she wanted to play with some face paint. She asked me if I could paint her to look like a cat. I happily agreed. After many giggles from being tickled by the paint, the little girl decided that she was happy with her friendly feline face mask. She then turned to me and said that she wanted to turn me into a butterfly. I saw how excited she was and agreed to let her transform me. After many minutes of focused artistry, I was transformed into a butterfly. With giggles of glee, the little girl exclaimed, “Go and check out your new look!”

As I stood and looked in a mirror and admired the artwork painted on my face, the little girl’s words rang in my ears. She had indeed transformed my look. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. My “look”… my perspective about ministry, hospitality, immigration, and so much more, has been impacted by this little girl. However, she has not been the only one that had participated in my transformation. My “look” has been impacted by the men and women in detention that I talked with twice a week. My “look” has been impacted by the families I encountered Friday mornings. My “look” has been impacted by the volunteers and staff of ICDI. My “look” has been affected

Cat and Butterfly facepaint

Cat and Butterfly facepaint

by the tears I’ve seen in the eyes of many people, including my own. And as I look forward, I hope that this “look” will affect me in a way that can create a positive change in this world. I look forward with hope and determination for compassion and change. I hope that I can lead in a way that gives others an opportunity to look through the eyes of others and treat everyone with dignity. And I hope to serve in a way that brings people together.

It has definitely been a challenge to see how people have changed my look. I cannot thank the Institute for Leadership and Service and the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants enough for giving me the chance to experience such incredible work for the summer. These lessons, tears, laughs, prayers, and memories will not be forgotten.

¿Tu cabeza está corriendo? (Is your head running?)

“¿Tu cabeza está corriendo? (Is your head running?)” Asks one of the gentleman in detention I chat with at McHenry County Jail.

“¡Sí!” I reply with a smile. “Yes, my head is running!”

Throughout my weeks interning with the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants (ICDI) in Chicago, Illinois, I have used more conversational Spanish than I have in my several years of studying the language. Speaking in Spanish was not something that I expected to do for my internship this summer. It was not something that was necessarily required when volunteering with the non-profit. However, I quickly learned that even though I was nervous and unconfident with my Spanish-speaking ability, taking the opportunity to use Spanish in conversation was something that made me a better minister to the people I was meeting.

Spanish materials that ICDI uses for pastoral ministry

Spanish materials that ICDI uses for pastoral ministry

Every Tuesday and Thursday, I drive to McHenry County Jail and Kenosha Detention Center to participate in pastoral care for men and women in detention. The volunteers that participate in this ministry engage in conversation with the men and women in detention and listen to the stories that the men and women in either facility wish to talk about. The conversation topics are vast. Sometimes the individuals will talk about Copa America and their favorite soccer team. Other individuals will bring up fashion. However, most conversations revolve around how an individual in detention is feeling, how their day is going, how their family is doing, and how their faith helps them stay positive amidst difficulty.

Both McHenry County Jail and Kenosha Detention Center have large Spanish-speaking populations. During my first day volunteering with the pastoral care team, I shadowed many different volunteers to gain an understanding of how conversations usually ran. I quickly noticed that there was a need for volunteers that spoke Spanish, and that many of the Spanish-speaking volunteers were talking with two, three, sometimes four individuals at a time. With the encouragement and support of the many volunteers with pastoral care, I decided to step out of my comfort zone and try a conversation in Spanish.

Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park, Chicago, IL

Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park, Chicago, IL

Since that day, all of the conversations I have had during my time volunteering with the pastoral care team have been in Spanish. Now, these conversations are not free from mistakes. I fumble with my vocabulary. I forget the words that I want to use. Every conversation I have with an individual or group usually begins with the disclaimer, “I’m sorry. I have errors in my grammar and I need to practice, but I want to talk with you and listen to you.” While some conversations end in a laugh or two at my expense, every conversation I have with a man or woman in detention teaches me a lesson. One conversation sticks out in my mind very clearly.

During one of my first few conversations in Spanish, I greeted a gentleman in Spanish with my initial disclaimer. I explained that I was a student and was with ICDI as a summer intern. The gentleman smiled and asked where I had learned Spanish. I told him that I was

Winter Room (9th Floor) of the Harold Washington Library in Chicago

Winter Room (9th Floor)- Harold Washington Library in Chicago

studying the language in school. For the next half hour, the two of us chatted about different Spanish dialects, the different languages spoken in his home country of El Salvador, and how difficult the English language can be to understand (even for native speaker!). After some time, there was a natural lull in our conversation. After a few moments, my conversation partner looked at me with a smile and asked if my head was running from all of the conversation. I laughed and replied yes. The man smiled and said,

“Parece tan cómoda. Cuando me senté, sonrió, inmediatamente comenzó una conversación conmigo y no pareció nervioso en absoluto. (You look so comfortable. When I sat down, you smiled, immediately started a conversation with me and didn’t look nervous at all.)”

I thanked the gentleman, and assured him that although I might look comfortable, I was incredibly nervous. I had made so many mistakes and I needed to practice more to be able to express myself more clearly.

In Spanish, he replied, “I know that it is difficult, and you might feel like you are struggling, but it means more to me and everyone else  that you are taking the time to speak the language of our hearts. What is even more beautiful is that you let US speak the language of our hearts, and you LISTEN to us. We cannot go outside here. We cannot see or feel the sun. But when you and the other volunteers come here, we can see the sun a little bit. That is a beautiful thing. You volunteers are beautiful disciples and give us hope.”

Chicago Sunrise

Chicago Sunrise

The conversation with the gentleman in detention helped me understand my position with the pastoral care team in a new way. The work that I was partaking in was not for my personal comfort. It was to serve others where they were at. It wasn’t as important for me to present as it was to be present.

My head is still running. It is running with questions and curiosity. It is running with new information about the immigration system in the United States. It is running with the memories of conversations had and relationships being made. My head is running, but I do not want to stop now. There is still so much to learn. There are more conversations to be had. And even if the words do not come out perfectly, I hope that I, along with the others involved in this ministry, can continue to bring a light into lives of the men and women in detention.