A map of Ethiopia with the blue pins at the locations of water projects.

It’s the question I have gotten many times a day for multiple weeks, “Are you ready?” Last week, it was referring to my trip to Austin and the start of work. This week it’s been directed towards my trip to Ethiopia which begins tomorrow. Which is one day from today. Which is not a lot of time. Each time I hear the question, it carries a different meaning. Sometimes the question refers to logistics, other times the packing process or vaccines and medicines, but the trickiest is whether or not I’m prepared mentally.

This summer I am working at Water to Thrive, a non-profit in Austin that works with organizations in East African countries (Ethiopia, Uganda, and Tanzania to be specific) to provide clean, safe drinking water to communities. I am primarily working on the beginnings of a bridge project in a village in Ethiopia that sees their only bridge connecting two sides of the village washed out each year in the rainy season. I will also be working on a best practices document that has a rich history of previous CAPS Fellows work. My supervisor has told people many times this week that I’m a great writer (which really puts the pressure on for this blog), so I’m picking up writing tasks as I go along as well. I’m incredibly excited to be working for an organization that aligns so well with my passions and studies.

Now back to preparedness. It’s difficult to express exactly how I’m feeling in casual chit-chat. It’s hard to succinctly explain how completely prepared I feel to be unprepared along this entire experience. I’m acutely aware that there’s no way to truly prepare for the journey on which I’m about to impart. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t prepared countless lists in an attempt to do so. I love lists. List writing is one of my favorite activities. I have a book full of lists, but in preparation for this summer, I’ve been viewing them more as a preparation exercise than concrete lists of exact things I will do and ask (other than a beautifully color-coded packing list, which will be adhered to). Spending time thinking through what W2T and I am hoping to gain from this experience to inform later work is helpful, but I don’t plan to pull out my list of questions to about well rehabilitation and rattle it off word for word to each member of the WASH committee.

If there’s anything Valpo and civil engineering, in particular, have taught me so far, it’s to know how to adapt and to never know what to expect. On approaching the Atrium Office Centre on my first day, I was met with a drab building ripped straight from The Office, but once inside, I was met with one of the most vibrant, energetic spaces I could have imagined. I came to Austin knowing it would be different from the rest of Texas, but I was met with more food trucks and breakfast tacos than I could have ever imagined.  I consider myself very familiar with concrete, the primary bridge building material in Ethiopia, and while one may think that all concrete looks the same on the surface, it’s an incredibly variable material, so I have no idea how central Ethiopia’s will compare to what I’m used to working with, but I’m excited to learn.

So I think I am ready for this trip and the work of this summer. I’m ready to learn better ways to communicate with people across cultures and languages. I’m ready to soak up as much information as I can and make new lists about what I’ve learned. I’m ready to be open to whatever the next nine weeks bring, and I’m ready to fully participate in the community of Water to Thrive and Austin.

        Dedicating my summer to the CAPS Program, and more specifically the Interfaith Committee for Detained Immigrants, is not something I think I could have properly prepared myself for, but now that I have had some time to reflect on the entirety of the experience I am even more grateful for this opportunity. This past spring semester I studied abroad in Southern Africa, and came back with a lot of thoughts and feelings, and was hit harder with reverse culture shock than I had expected. Being in Chicago proved as a good transition back into the United States, or at least back to Valpo. I grew up on a cow farm, so living in the South Loop on the 15th floor of an apartment complex and driving in Chicago traffic was just as foreign to me as the countries in Southern Africa. Working with ICDI, I had the opportunity to learn about the entirety of the U.S. immigration system, immerse myself in interfaith dialogue, learn the ins and out of a non-profit organization, and see the first hand effects of our ever changing politics after only getting my political information after the presidential inauguration through a skewed lens(being abroad, local residents giving their opinion on U.S. politics, people fearing for me how the U.S. would be different once I got home). Reflecting on many of my experiencing, I am just beginning to fathom how much I have learned.

        Participating in pastoral care with individuals in immigration detention centers gave me the opportunity to have interfaith dialogue and speak with people across different cultures, background, histories, and religion. Attending Immigration Court gave me the knowledge and understanding of the court system to speak confidently about the root of my beliefs when it comes to immigration within the United States. I have learned how to be more active in human rights dialogue through different venues within my internship, making connections with others, and living within the CAPS community. I have been able to raise more awareness for human rights issues and work towards dismantling the systems of oppression within our society. All ideas and passions that were more fully developed during my study abroad experience and learning firsthand about systems of oppression within the Southern African context in relationship to Apartheid, Namibian genocide, and making connections to similar events that have taken place within the United States such as the Native American Genocide, Segregation, and blatant racism. Through my participation in ICDI I learned more about non-profit organizations in a United States context and found affirmation for my sense of calling to attend seminary and do pastoral care through a lens of social justice in the future.

        With such an intense internship, it was necessary to process with other people and decide what the take away of the day, week, or summer had been. In communicating with other CAPS Fellows in Chicago, we realized many of us had grown up with parents from the generation of “You don’t talk about religion, politics, or money.” I always questioned this growing up and was given various answers as to why not to talk about these things: “People might not agree with you”, “It’s just being polite”, “There are nicer things to talk about.” As I have quickly learned at University, avoiding conversation about these topics is exactly the opposite of what we should be doing, and shows the vast amount of privilege we were raised with. Not talking about religion shows our religious freedom. I have learned that talking to those whose understanding of faith is different than my own, and it has led to fascinating conversation and reflection about why we carry out our religious practices the way we do. Avoiding the topic of politics, especially today, shows a certain amount of privilege. If the majority of the white, middle class, English speaking population were to not follow the news, they would be able to assume that there is nothing happening in the world that is directly affecting them. This population is safe and has nothing to worry about. Many minority populations are, have been, and will continue to be directly affected by politics and national news, including but not limited to immigrants, people of color, non-English speakers, those living in poverty, black lives, the LGBTQ community, Muslims, and more. And lastly, being able to avoid the topic of money, or not worry about money is a privilege many do not have as a majority of the wealth in our country is held by a very small percentage of United States residents, a gap that is continually becoming wider and wider.

        Other aspects of my internship that had a large effect on my learning within the experience were speaking with my mentor, and reflecting on ideals of leadership and purposeful work. Conversations with my mentor were highly motivating in following my passions and not working to meet the expectations others have about me, and focusing on the social justice issues I am most passionate about and have the most need despite the levels of controversy and debate surrounding certain issues. We talked about the importance of mindful conversation, especially with those different from one’s self, advocating for one’s self, and the importance of self-care amongst passionate work. While this summer’s internship was one of the most challenging experience I have been a part of to date, I am very thankful for the work I was able to for ICDI, and for the countless number of lessons, conversations, and unforgettable moments I had the blessing of being a part of.

I owe so much of what I have learned from those who have come before me and have been doing advocacy work for years and years. The two Sisters who began ICDI have the largest passion for equality for ALL people that I have ever seen. It is purely inspirational and motivating hear their story of all the obstacles they have overcome to open safe houses for immigrants, fundraise, begin a court watch program, pass a state law to give those in detention the right to pastoral care, and stand on the steps of the Broadview Detention Center every Friday for ten years to hold a prayer vigil for families being separated by deportation. These two Sisters have reached out over the years to hundreds of individuals that volunteer and participate with ICDI weekly. I am grateful for other volunteers I worked alongside with and learned from, and supervisors who shared their stories and wisdom with me. While I am glad I am back at school, I will be missing working every day with these important and necessary ministries, but I know I will be back to volunteer as often as I can.

If you feel called to help as well, ICDI always welcomes more volunteers: http://www.icdichicago.org/

          Everything was worth it: these are the words that come to my mind when I think of the long hours spent compiling spreadsheets, scrutinizing travel documents, making supply orders, and ultimately working with an incredibly dedicated team to ensure the fluid execution of an event with over 1,000 participants.  Admittedly, there were days when my demeanor was less inspired and moments when I allowed the aura of the capitol to distract me from the value of the work that I was a part of.  This compounded with my natural introversion, resulting in a self-induced monotony, a symptom that allowed for days to pass quickly, the city to become a mere blur, and leisure hours to be spent inflecting in hopes of uncovering a solution.  As luck would have it, this was one of those conflicts that was solved with the simple virtue of patience, leading to a personal victory over monotony.

I shall preface this triumph with a description of some realizations that my experience with IREX allowed me to discover.  I have always known that, when faced with important tasks of any kind, my work ethic becomes trenchant, meaning that I focus the entirety of my efforts on the details of a project.  Though the intent behind such a practice is to maximize efficiency, the transposition of this practice into the professional workplace resulted in a mental drain that affected my ability to focus and recharge over time.  Another realization, partially derived from the aforementioned point, manifested itself through a consistent frustration with the lack of perceived impact that I saw my work having; my default thought was always “I still do not feel as if this is enough,” something that I always struggled with in the humanitarian field.  Of course, my deeds were acknowledged and often rewarded with more responsibilities, but the distance between myself and the Fellows that we were working with still seemed so vast.  These realizations taught me that bringing lightheartedness into your work is just as important as bringing seriousness and concentration.  Furthermore, I discovered that I am inherently inclined to desire perceptible results in my work; the tangible fruits that can be gleaned through dedicated labor is a crucial step for my consciousness to appreciate the processes that compose the project.

The discoveries that I made about myself explain why the Summit (the gathering of all 1,000 Mandela Washington Fellows in D.C. for a three-day conference) was the climax of my internship with IREX; it is a major component of why I can confidently say that everything was worth it.  Fundamental human interaction with various Fellows was enough to reignite my passion for working with others to provide support and access to the resources that can change lives.  There was a moment, at the closing of the Summit, when the Fellows received hand-tailored certificates from the State Department, marking their fulfillment of the Fellowship’s requirements.  It was during the distribution of these mementos that I realized just how much of an impact a small team can have on the lives of a thousand people, and in turn, how much of an impact those thousand will have on ten thousand more, and the process continues to repeat itself.  A common adage echoed by each of the Fellows was that “We are the future of Africa,” and to simply have served on a program that could provide that degree of confidence and hope in the future is enough to bring those same emotions to my heart and even tears of happiness to my eyes.  Above all, my experience as a CAPS Fellow has given me the resolve to persevere; in the maw of hatred and bigotry, humanity will always serve as a vehicle of hope in our world.  Thus, it is our duty to serve one another, lead responsibly when called, follow passionately when necessary, and ultimately know that the good fight will be worth each ounce of effort when we witness our actions positively impacting those who seek simply to sow hope in places where it is all but lost.

I honestly should not have gotten the Data and Research internship with Ingenuity. I was completely under qualified. My application was a total shot in the dark; I only hoped the arts education organization in Chicago would see that I applied to every position they offered and maybe understand just how much I wanted to work for them. The internship description called for candidates who had:

• Familiarity with ETL tools for data warehousing (e.g., Zapier, Apatar, CloverETL, Talend, Pentaho)  
• Experience writing APIs  
• Experience designing and developing software and/or computer systems  

Even after nine weeks with Ingenuity, I can’t tell you what half those words mean. Thankfully after reviewing my resume, my supervisor envisioned a different project for me — one that would teach me new skills while still utilizing my writing and research abilities. (I could write a whole other post about what I learned about applying to jobs I think I’m “under qualified” for, but I’ll save that for another time).

This summer I took the lead on writing the annual State of the Arts report which examines the arts education landscape in Chicago Public Schools (CPS). The 100-page publication will be available in October, and I had a blast collaborating on data analysis with co-workers, providing feedback to the designer, and presenting preliminary findings to Ingenuity and CPS directors. Possibly the best part of the summer was learning how much I enjoy working with data.

As an English and music major, I had firmly established myself as “not a numbers person.” In fact, the only reason I worked to pass AP Calculus in high school was to never have to take a math class again. I wasn’t necessarily bad with numbers, I just didn’t find excitement in them as I did with a good novel or a new piece of music.

However, working on the State of the Arts report showed me that I do actually like numbers — I like numbers that tell a story.

Ingenuity collects A LOT of numbers from schools, arts organizations, private and corporate funders, and the CPS district offices. Some days I spent hours pouring over spreadsheets trying to make sense of all them. My supervisor, co-worker, and I would do mental aerobics trying to figure out how to manipulate numbers into meaningful data. Some days I left the office with a pounding headache and no answers to our numerical problems, but the days we figured out solutions were extremely rewarding.

Once we collected and analyzed our data, it was my job to write it into a narrative. No one wants to read a 100-page report and still be asking “why does this matter?” in the end. By framing our numbers within a larger narrative of supporting schools in providing arts education to every CPS student, our data has meaning.

So while on paper I should never have been made the Data and Research intern at Ingenuity, I ended up being in exactly the right position to learn how important numbers can be in advocating and supporting a field I am passionate about.

Much of the data Ingenuity collects is available at artlookmap.com. This summer, I also had the pleasure of leading a breakout session showing new arts partners how to utilize the website.

When I first decided to pursue nonprofit public relations a year or so back, it was mostly because I didn’t want to work in corporate America. The idea of big business meetings filled with people in suits (which is how I stereotypically envisioned the corporate world) just didn’t appeal to me. So when people asked me what I wanted to do when I graduated, I said nonprofit PR. But now, after having a couple of internships in nonprofit communications, I know that that decision I made on a whim was the right one.

Over the past few semesters, I’ve taken some classes that have ignited an interest in human rights, so much so that I bookmarked the website with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Here in the U.S, we take so many of these rights for granted. But there is a plethora of places around the world where people don’t have their fundamental human rights. Obviously, the lack of human rights is a difficult problem with no easy solution. There are political, economic, and social reasons as to why people don’t have all their human rights and nothing is going to fix that overnight. However, there are changes that can be made to aid the process. As I’ve learned during my time at Water to Thrive this summer, water is one of those changes.

Article 25 of the UDHR states, “Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.” No access to clean water = No adequate living. It’s as simple as that. Unclean water sources lead to waterborne diseases, such as diarrhea. I’ve gone through a myriad of statistics to support this claim. 50% of rural Africans suffer from waterborne illness. 10% of children die before their 5^th birthday because of diseases such as diarrhea. I’ve seen pictures of women gathering water from the same streams where their livestock are drinking. That’s just not healthy. In the villages where Water to Thrive builds clean water wells, waterborne disease is nearly eradicated.

Article 26 states “Everyone has the right to education. Education shall be free, at least in the elementary and fundamental states. Elementary education shall be compulsory. Technical and professional education shall be made generally available and higher education shall be equally accessible to all on the basis of merit.” Education is one of the biggest areas I’ve focused on at Water to Thrive recently. Children spend hours every day walking to retrieve water, causing them to miss school. The diseases they get from these unclean water sources also keep them from attending classes. Just the other day, I was reading through some testimonials from a school in Uganda where W2T is hoping to build a well. These kids talked about how they have to miss school to gather water and often get diseases like cholera and typhoid from it. Although they have the right to education, many cannot get that education because of something as simple as water.

My time at Water to Thrive has taught me a lot, from marketing skills to navigating Austin public transportation, but what has impacted me the most was learning about the African water crisis and reflecting on the effect it has on human rights. Through writing articles and working on an informational packet to send out to schools, I’ve been able to share the importance of clean and accessible wells. Although I’m not out in the field building wells myself, I still feel that I’m making a difference through spreading awareness. St. Francis of Assisi once said, “Don’t change the world, change worlds.” While Water to Thrive isn’t going to single-handedly end the African water crisis, they are changing the lives of individuals every day. And that’s what service is all about.

[Insert bittersweet hello here]

I am quickly approaching my final days in Washington D.C. and I can’t help but get a feeling of heartache. I’ve grown so much here, in many different ways that I hadn’t even anticipated. I feel transformed and empowered to move forward. My chapter in D.C. may be short one, but this place and these people that I have come to know in such a short span of time will always hold a special place in my heart.  

Lutheran Services in America, because of you I am a better me. My time at LSA has been a journey in itself. From my first few days as a very nervous intern that was terrified to make a mistake to a confident professional with a voice that is no longer afraid to ask for help and has become inspired by power of social ministry and what you are able to achieve when you stand firmly together.

I’ve gained deeper insights into how the field works and what it takes to be successful. While there have been challenging moments due to my inexperience, everybody has been more than helpful and communicative. They’re understanding and welcoming when I end up asking a million questions. They offer encouraging advice when I get insecure about my work performance. Thank you Jackie, Jasmine, and Rachel. And thank you to the remainder of LSA, I couldn’t have asked for a better work environment to walk into each day. I’m going to miss the good morning thumbs up from Bola, the sound of coffee brewing as Jonah pours his fifth cup of the day, the discounted hot dogs from Izzat each week, and sneaking away for some mid-morning Jeopardy with the other interns on the “fun side” of the office.

I am going to miss the boys. Being placed in an apartment that was directly down the hall made it feel like we were all still back in the Valpo dorms, except Lankenau doesn’t have a hot tub or balconies overlooking the city. Our group may quite possibly be the oddest group to end up together, but I am so forever grateful that we did. I am thankful for Jonah’s heart of gold and his ability to find the most fascinating places in D.C. I am going to miss the endless amount of sour gummy worms and how he always knew when to ask to go to Ebenezers for lunch (basically every day). I am going to miss the in depth and reflective conversations with Aaron. We could talk about anything under the sun and still not run out of things to discuss. I am grateful for your capability to always give the best advice or offer encouraging words. I can’t wait to see everything that you accomplish here. I am thankful for Josh’s carefree spirit and his excitement to try new things. I’m definitely going to miss living the high life in the Diamond Club!!! I am NOT going to miss hearing “HUZZAH” yelled every two minutes. 😉 I am going to miss Jake’s bold spirit and how moments were never dull with him. I admire his ability to start a conversation with just about anybody. Thank you all for the constant laughs and interesting adventures. I couldn’t picture myself spending a summer in D.C. with anybody else.  

I consider the CAPS Fellows program to be my final of many incredible opportunities that Valpo has given me. The CAPS Fellows program has given me the chance to explore and grow within the professional world, while being able to reflect on my personal goals. No two CAPS experiences are the same. Each experience is engaging and you have this incredible opportunity to gain insight into what life looks life after Valpo. This is what CAPS is supposed to be about. It is about discovering your passions and aligning those with God’s plan for your life. It is about finding purpose in the world around us and finding where you fit best. CAPS is about identifying your God given strengths and improving on those to serve others.

Signing off as an official Valpo alum,

– N

Check out some more D.C. images & look out for video soon!

Brunch with CAPS alumni, Nura Zaki and Rockville CAPS Fellows, Michelle Andersen, Katie Bahn, and Maddie Nieter.

Ebenezers [aka my second home]

Rosslyn Farmer’s Market

NOMA

Medicaid | Disability Rights Rally

Medicaid | Disability Rights Rally

NOMA

Partner Starter Institute

“Artists have the power to see obstacles and create solutions and that is pretty beautiful,” an arts partner said to me when I met with him to talk about his partnership with Chicago Public Schools. There was a pause in the room. He continued. “Thank you for asking me to speak at the Partner Starter, it has given me the opportunity to pause and reflect on the qualities of partnership.” I smiled.

The arts partner told me that he used to be concerned with the outcome or “performance” of the students’ art pieces, but now he realizes the importance of the process for the students and that some students might not see how the arts influences them until later on in their life. You don’t always get to see the impact you have, but it is still important. Whether they consider themselves an artist or not, they are still thinking in a different way, creating in their own way, and accessing a new part of themselves.

I feel like I am accessing a new part of myself while recognizing how important reflection is in understanding my experience here. Sometimes in the constant movement of the arts non-profit world, it is easy for me to get lost in it all: that everything needs to happen now. That I don’t have time. That pausing would be a waste of time.

However, I realized in this thought process that taking a moment to pause and reflect is the key to quality work in this experience and making sure that every voice is heard in the community, in the arts sector, and in the schools.

A few weekends ago, I decided to go to the American Writers Museum that just opened in Chicago. I stumbled upon a writer’s talk that was in session with Deepak Unnikrishnan and his book Temporary People and cultural critic, Illan Stavans. The conversation circled around the diversity of voices that created and continue to create what it means to be American. I was really taken on Deepak’s perspective on language and the importance that the English language had in creating a bridge for him between all the other languages he knows, and keeping all of them alive.

I have been thinking a lot about the way language interacts with leadership and meaningful work this summer. The arts in a way is a language, a narrative, that can be shared with all, creating bridges among people, conversations, and places. Embracing the moments to pause has made me a better worker, and reflection has made me a more impactful creator, problem-solver. I have been able to make connections from what I am doing to the larger narrative that exists in my life, that what I am doing does not just end when the clock hits five, but the process of learning this summer will influence me today, tomorrow, and down the road in unexpected ways that I have yet to see.

There is an engagement in silence, in reflection, in pausing, in paying attention to the details, and I see that engagement working throughout Ingenuity, amongst each busy day. I see the way reflection and leadership are constantly intertwined in the work that each of Ingenuity staff member and it empowers me and the community.

While many things I have learned or experienced might be unique,  I have realized there is a connection to community. As I share  the details of my experience, and while some may be forgotten, and listeners might not completely understand, each interaction I had is important to understanding meaningful work. Each interaction with the world matters and the stories of the people around you are constantly in conversation with how we all experience the world. From the CTA driver who waited for me to get onto the platform before closing the doors so I could enter the train, to Judy who would always read Agatha Christie novels at the Art Institute on a Saturday, there is always an opportunity to make a meaningful interaction. I realized that sometimes you just need to stop for a little while, take it all in, and be open to the people around you. We have so many awesome opportunities as people of communities to build off one another, to listen to each other, to learn from others’ stories and when we become empowered by our own unique experiences as well as the people we interact with (on a small and large scale), we can find our strengths, our purpose, and calling.