Category Archives: CAPS Fellows Blog

First Days at LINC Ministries by Elizabeth Nevarez

It was a hot May day when I moved into my Chicago bungalow, two mornings prior to my first day at LINC Ministries Int’l Inc. LINC Ministries is a nonprofit organization that provides nontraditional church ministry to urban areas. This nonprofit finds ministry leaders and church partners to equip in serving others. They focus on spiritual community, personal development, ministry development, organizational support, and resource networks in order to establish well suited leaders for those in need. LINC Ministries has seven different locations in the nation– Chicago being the newest addition. I am the first intern at the Chicago location, all thanks to the CAPS Fellows Program. Upon hearing that I would be working at LINC, I was filled with passion, excitement, and nervousness, as this would be my first experience working for a nonprofit organization, let alone, a formal job. My previous work experience was as a camp counselor: I was used to wearing a tie dye shirt with camp logos and having screaming kids surrounding me, but on that Monday, I was putting on a business dress and grabbing my briefcase as I walked out the door. While the new wardrobe is still something to which I’m adjusting, I can confidently say that I have now been working for LINC Ministries for two weeks. I have learned so much through my encounters with Lutheran churches, ministry leaders, the incorporation of my academic learning and my job, and the logistics of a nonprofit organization (each of which I will detail in turn).

I have loved being able to meet with Lutheran churches in the Chicagoland area. I have been able to hear their mission and vision behind partnering with a nonprofit organization like LINC. Churches like these create a firm foundation of spiritual support and a community of like-minded individuals for LINC. They also provide resources and connections for continuing ministry outside of their walls. Although these churches differentiate in staff, organization, and communication, they all still come together as the body of Christ.

I have also had the privilege of meeting with many ministry leaders in the Chicagoland area due to LINC’s connections. These ministry leaders have had a calling from God to serve a specific people group in the city. The leaders vary in age, gender, and background, but they all collectively have a purpose for God’s work. These callings target different groups of people, specifically immigrants, human trafficked victims, the homeless, and at-risk youth. Ministry leaders meet with my boss and me weekly in order to continue their vision framing process and find their purpose for why they serve. These weekly meetings further their planning and challenge them to go above and beyond in serving.

Within my two weeks at LINC, I have noticed so many beautiful aspects of nonprofit work. I have already begun to see the beginnings of how churches are started (a term called “church plants”), Christ-centered recovery homes, bilingual ministries in immigrant communities, tangible hope in tent cities, and discipleship, healing, and restoration for the at-risk youth. Being able to see people become the hands and feet of Jesus and pour into the city of Chicago has been inspirational.

I have also been able to incorporate my academic learning into my work as well. As the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion chair of my sorority, I have been able to reference back to my workshops about identity and racism for future use at LINC. I have also been able to use my knowledge of 990 forms and profiling of nonprofits through my college classes in my work. Lastly, learning the logistics of nonprofit work has been intriguing. I have gained a better understanding of “asks” from donors, budgeting, fiscal agencies, and more. Starting an internship through the CAPS Fellows Program has been a true honor and something that I will not take lightly. I am excited to share that my time at LINC Ministries has furthered my perspective of nonprofit work and has solidified my desire to take this career path in the future.

A Fresh and Clearly Set Start by Michael Olson

The process of a fresh and clearly set start can be paralyzing. The CAPS Fellowship is no exception as I, among many other fellows, attempt to settle into our respective placements and make an unique impact. A quote from Buddha tells us “There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth… not going all the way, and not starting.” My main worry when beginning my fellowship was being unable to get out of my shell as a person. Being viewed as somebody who is untrustworthy or incompetent for my inability to get comfortable within my space felt like my greatest fear. While starting well may be difficult for myself personally, along with many others, I am proud to state that I have been doing well to show my full self to Kheprw throughout my first two weeks.

For a short synopsis, I spent my first week bouncing between many meetings, exchanging names with individuals from varying committees within Kheprw. My coworkers at Kheprw were extremely welcoming and excited to pause their busy schedules to explain the important role of their various committees. Along with, multiple check-in meetings with mentors who constantly asked me about where my current wants, passions, and needs are for my fellowship. Their impact on my confidence and attitude towards my current objectives can’t be understated. Currently, I have been assigned about three personal projects which encompass three committees within Kheprw while still being allowed to join any meeting to satiate my own curiosity. Even though my work on these projects has been short, I can already see the different ways of thinking which will be demanded of me and how differently I will have to act in comparison to any classroom setting.

One aspect of the CAPS Fellowship I have appreciated within my own viewpoint of reflection is the opportunity to meet many great wells of wisdom to draw upon. At the beginning of my time with Kheprw, I was told, in my own rough paraphrase, that I would need to be prepared to clash with big voices and have my ideas challenged within the Kheprw space. I didn’t realize just how much I would enjoy that previously described environment. Within my check-in meetings, I am not only forced to think in a much less concrete, cookie-cutter way about achieving my goals; but also, what I want to accomplish and how I should accomplish my goal. At first, it felt difficult to work on finding my passions or solutions to questions within Kheprw with little specific information. However, upon reflection, I realized two essential points: this isn’t a classroom, so I can’t ask for a syllabus and there is no right answer to the questions I am being posed. It felt paralyzing when asked open-ended questions about “what I had noticed within Kheprw’s different spaces” until I realized that my input was perceived as equally valuable in comparison to others’ in my mentor’s point of view. I realized, in relation to my own purpose, that these people had gotten to where they are because of their humbleness. Amidst their own success, their ability to treat everyone they meet like an expert in “something” was admirable. Being relied upon and viewed as a trustworthy coworker has done wonders for my own personal confidence and passion for the projects I have undergone.

From looking back on my past two weeks, I was reminded of a quote from Henry Thoreau “The mass of people live lives of quiet desperation.” I realized that despite my shortcomings or personal doubts, the last quality I want to be attached to me is “quiet” and I will not be afraid to leap before I look. I look forward to the rest of my time with Kheprw and wish my “fellow” CAPS Fellows all the best on their own unique paths in their placements.

Sincerely,

Michael Olson

To A Future CAPS Fellow by Justin McClain

It has been two weeks since I finished my internship with Heartland Alliance on the case management team. Another case management intern, Marie Dix, wrote the blog post, “Unfinished,” and her words beautifully captured some of the thoughts currently racing through my mind: the positive staff culture I’ll miss, the systemic injustices refugees face, and the connections to families I now have to let go. With my final blog post, I want to leave a message to future CAPS Fellows:

 

I am not sure how I will capture everything I want to say, but I suppose the easiest place to start is at the beginning. The application process for the CAPS Fellowship is not a hard process, but, just like the internship itself, you get out what you put in. It definitely makes you take a moment to close your eyes and envision the future you want. I, like many other Fellows I have talked with, saw myself using the privilege I have as a white, middle-class male with a college degree to positively impact the lives of those less fortunate than me. I encourage you to take the application time to start reflecting on your time at Valpo and how you want to use your future degree, and not just write your personal statement how you think the ILS would like it. Your personal statement is also something interesting to look back at throughout the internship and see how it might have changed based on your experience.

 

I am guessing you have probably made it through the application/interview process if you are reading this and want to know tips for the internship itself. From the very start, you will be thrown a lot of new information (people, places, acronyms, offices, tasks, meetings dates and times, etc.) and will probably feel like you are being baptized with fire. It may sound cliché, but this will all get easier with time, and you can speed up the process by writing it all down somewhere. Marie and I created a shared Google Doc with all the acronyms we were given and were able to get familiar with them relatively quickly. Realizing you can finally understand and speak the language of the organization is a really nice feeling. This leads to my next tip – you were chosen for the internship and placed with the organization for a reason. Yes, the “fake it ‘til you make it” mindset can get you through the internship, but you have more skills than you might realize and might not actually need to fake it. Be confident in yourself. On the flipside, it is also important to know your limitations and when to ask questions. Asking a question does not show weakness; it shows strength and maturity.

 

The biggest tip I have for you is to celebrate the small victories and brush away (but learn) from the small losses. Thinking back to the personal statement, a lot of the goals you might have for your future are lofty and fall along the lines of “changing the world” or “solving all the world’s problems.” These are great aspirations, but they are probably not super realistic for a summer internship. You may get discouraged doing what seems like busy work or a small task that does not impact too many people, but it is all helping the organization or the people they serve in some way. For instance, I spent a lot of time on hold with insurance companies, scheduling medical appointments, or just checking in with the refugees. None of this was revolutionary or changed the world, but it all was helping the people Heartland Alliance serves. It changed their world. The refugees I did those mundane tasks for have very little understanding of English and would not have been able to get the medical attention they needed without my help. Sometimes an insurance company would not be able to cover all the medical charges or a transportation company would be difficult to work with, and delivering news like that to someone may seem like a let-down and not ideal, but the refugees would always say how thankful they were and how much they appreciated my work. This goes back to the celebrating the small victories. In cases like those, I was still able to get some of their medical bills covered or help them change the time of their medical appointment to better fit the constraints of the transportation company. Those were still wins for the refugees. I just had to change my mindset.

 

Lastly, you will have the support of the ILS, current and past CAPS Fellows, and your placement supervisor throughout the entire summer. If you get overwhelmed or need any help, remember that you have plenty of resources. The resources are only helpful if you reach out, though. Taking the time reflect on your experiences and decompress on your own will also help you stay motivated, energized, and protect your mental health. I encourage you to journal, dig deep into the blog posts you will be writing, or even just talk to yourself before bed to process what you go through.

 

This past summer was definitely not what I imagined when I applied for CAPS. Putting the restrictions from COVID-19 aside, things were still very different than what I was envisioning, but I am so thankful for CAPS. I know that I have grown as a person and developed a deeper sense of what it means to serve, what it means to be human, and what it means to truly live your values.

 

I wish you the best of luck.

 

Uncertainty, Discernment, and Discovery by Lydia Knorp

As I reflect on my time at Heartland Alliance, many thoughts and emotions come to mind; the most prominent being gratitude. I came into this internship seeking clarity. Whether it be clarity regarding the path I want to pursue or a deeper understanding of what I do not enjoy, I was hoping to find meaning in this experience.  This feeling of gratitude that I mentioned is for the gift of clarity that Heartland Alliance has blessed me with. I came into my internship confident and still am certain that I have found my home in the field of Social Work. However, in a vast field, I had struggled to pinpoint my passions within the field.

Working with refugees at Heartland Alliance is something I thought I would enjoy, but I had no idea how much I would come to love it. There is something special about working with people from around the world. It is truly a gift to have the opportunity to learn about different cultures and traditions from places so far away. Each day that I interned, I had the opportunity to get to know many different individuals and learn about their experiences, stories, and culture… what a gift.

Here I am two months later grateful for the clarity that this experience has given me. I have discovered and confirmed the passion I have for working with a diverse group of individuals, listening and learning about their experiences, and walking alongside them as they strive to accomplish their goals. I look forward to seeing how this passion of mine unfolds as I take my next steps in both my academic and professional careers.

The CAPS fellowship has encouraged me to lean into my uncertainties. It has reminded me that the unknown aspects of life are not necessarily bad. Uncertainty can lead to discernment and discernment has led me to discover a passion and a purpose. The CAPS fellowship has helped me discover the young professional that I aspire to be.

Just the Intern by Emily Friedman

At my job, I’ve been doing a lot of sanitizing and temperature taking. Part of my uniform includes a smock, face shield, face mask, and rubber gloves. If we didn’t have these precautions, I would not have been able to work in-person at The Bridge Teen Center. COVID-19 has made us rethink how we host student programs. Prior to the pandemic, The Bridge offered drop-in hours for students and hosted signature events that could have accommodated hundreds of students. Now students must pre-register for events which have limited capacity. They are required to wear masks, wash their hands before entering the building, get their temperature taken, and answer a few questions about their health. In the program, students must sit six feet apart from each other and cannot share materials. At first, it was an adjustment. Not only did students have to learn a new routine, but they also had to navigate social situations under these conditions. It’s hard to hear people and see their facial expressions when others are wearing a mask, so it’s easy to minimize conversation. With time, we all learned to adapt to this new environment. Considering these extra precautions, I’m still able to create connections between students. Everything feels as normal as it can be during this time.

In one of the CAPS Reflect-Ins, we read the poem, “A Bed for the Night” by Bertolt Brecht. It was about a man that collected beds for the homeless on the snowy streets of New York. While he was doing a charitable deed, the poem reiterated that his actions wouldn’t change the world. This poem made me think of the concept of “intern work.” Classically, people imagine the intern as the person that gets coffee for the office. It’s the kind of work that anybody can do, but nobody wants to do it. Adjectives to describe “intern work” could be boring, unimportant, or tedious. Why is there such a negative stereotype?

We all have moments where we have to do something that’s less than glamorous. Let’s use taking out the trash as an example. I’m not “above” taking out the trash, but it’s not the most exciting thing in the world. Nevertheless, it must be done. If nobody does it, the place won’t be clean. As someone that likes to work in a clean office, I’ll do whatever it takes to contribute to that cause. If that requires taking out the trash, then I am happy to do it!

Even though I have a positive attitude about taking out the trash, I can still admit that it’s not going to fulfill my soul. It’s not a sign of ingratitude to acknowledge that a task does not fuel your passion nor help you discover something new about yourself. You’re just being honest about your feelings. It can be hard to look at the big picture when we can’t see the fruits of our labor in real time, but I have to remind myself that these small tasks, like cleaning the facility, will create a space for those larger opportunities that make me feel fulfilled.

I think part of our identity is wrapped up in our job and our self-esteem is heavily tied to our merits. If we think our work is boring, we imagine ourselves as boring. If we perceive our work as impactful and meaningful, we envision ourselves that way, too. When we see other people doing impressive and grandiose things, it can be easy to question ourselves than to celebrate others.

Value can be found in the smallest of jobs. At work, we often joke that the person taking temperatures is the “sanitization specialist.” The job sounds a lot cooler when you give it a fancy title, but does that change the nature of the task? Not necessarily. So how can we rethink the narrative of intern work? First, recognize the chain reaction that comes with doing a small task. If someone doesn’t do X, this could prevent someone from doing Y. Second, identify how you can develop long term skills from a task. Our director Katie gave the great example that getting coffee is an opportunity to network with employees. Finally, do some self-reflection whenever these feelings arise. Complaining about work does not mean you’re being ungrateful, but it is still important to figure out what’s going on inside. If your ego is tied to your merits or you catch yourself comparing yourself to someone else, remind yourself that work is not the only place where you can derive your sense of self-worth.

Unfinished by Marie Dix

This is the last of my 11 weeks with the refugee case management team at Heartland Alliance. I admit there is much about this remote work that I won’t miss: being on hold for 15 minutes with an insurance company, realizing that the reason my coworkers were ignoring me was because I was muted, and the frustration of being “it” in games of four way telephone tag between clients, interpreters, and other offices. There’s even more that I will miss though: my coworkers (and the gifs they send in our Microsoft Teams chat), the families I’ve come to know, and the opportunities to learn about the world without leaving my bedroom.

 

My sphere of awareness grew beyond the four walls of my cozy suburban house to encompass the ongoing genocides in Myanmar/Burma, the torture and murder of LGBTQ people in many African nations and the harsh realities of rebuilding a life in a country with endless freedom yet endlessly complicated bureaucracy. My prayer is that I will not sink into the feelings of apathy and helplessness that tempt us to shrink our world once again in order to avoid the pain and responsibility of our global reality.

 

After I’ve met people who’ve faced (and overcome) challenges like war, torture, starvation and homelessness, how will I respond to discomfort and suffering in my own life? How will I respond to the struggle of my friends, my family, strangers? How will I think differently about what I hear in the news and see on the streets? How will it change my conversations? How will I let this work change me?

 

It feels weird to stop when so much is incomplete. I have a list of “loose ends” I hope to tie up before Friday (it’s 14 items long), but that doesn’t include all of the ends I’m forced to leave loose. Some applications I worked on will sit pending for nine months. Some people won’t return my calls before I go. I’ve made referrals I can’t follow up on, and appointments I can’t send reminders for. I will never meet the babies whose mothers we’ve been equipping with supplies and childbirth education. Honestly, it’s possible I won’t even see my coworkers from the shoulders down.

 

But I suppose that’s how it goes, the line of interns keeps moving and I must trust that the people I care for will be taken care of.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Post-Hard Pants Society by Elizabeth Palmer

A couple weeks into quarantine, when we still had the emotional bandwidth to joke about it, I recall seeing someone’s husband enjoying his new life in sweatpants, vowing never to wear “hard pants” (jeans) again.

Approaching my fifth month sans hard pants, I’ve been trying to reflect on what I’m going to
take with me from this chapter.

  • Will I ever wear jeans again?
  • How many more holes can I possibly poke into my ears?
  • Will the existential dread that reared its head in March ever go away?
  • Will I ever feel safe in public without a mask on?
  • What’s the point of having my nose pierced if nobody can see it?

When the social constraint of hard pants left, so did my ability to really check in with myself. I have a million thoughts in my brain, but once I actually sit down and try to work through them, I can’t even name one. I know I’m not alone in this which is taking the pressure off attempting to figure that out, but that doesn’t make it any less scary. I’ve always been the person to remind others to take time to themselves, to allow space for whatever emotions they’re feeling, to move their bodies and breathe, and I used to be a good model of that for others.

Now, instead of spending my first two hours awake each day going for a run, stretching, meditating and reading, I sleep in (even though I fall asleep before 10 every night), scroll on Tik Tok for an hour until my eyes start to hurt, eat whatever baked good is on the counter and start my internship.

I’m not alone in feeling like I’ve lost myself a little bit. I’ve worked so hard these past 3 years to establish a routine and good habits, prioritize my mental health and be a good, transparent example. I’ll be honest and say I feel a little bit like I’ve failed myself these past four months.

But then the part of my brain that encourages others says to me, “You’re alive in a pandemic, that’s your only job. Stay alive, and keep others alive by being responsible. That’s literally it.” That gives me a new perspective for a few minutes, and then my attention span fails me again and I’m back on frog Tik Tok.

So what does a post-hard pants society even look like? Are we all going to finally accept wearing leggings in the workplace? Do we all go to therapy? Does anyone have any ideas? Because for someone who has a lot of opinions and thinks she knows everything, I have absolutely none.

Thoughts on Reflection by Gabe Martinez

This summer has been very different from previous years. Although the circumstances for this summer have not been ideal, it has created the best environment for reflection. I am a person who dislikes free time because it gives me time to think about everything. A lot of overthinking has been done in these three months. All this thinking is overwhelming because there’s no structure, and my mind likes to spiral down during these moments. My goal for this summer was to better my reflection skills. Through CAPS I have been able to do that through peer reflect ins, mentor meetings, and these blog posts. I have found that whenever I feel overwhelmed the best way to get rid of that feeling was through writing. I have never been a fan of journaling because I always enjoyed talking to people about it (in person), but due to COVID-19 that wasn’t possible. I knew that I could always call or facetime anybody, but it wasn’t the same. Somehow journaling was better. All of these spaces have allowed me to reflect on current events, and my future.

One of the biggest questions that I reflected on has been, “What do I want to do after I graduate?” I am finally entering my “senior” year of college, yet I have no idea if engineering is something I want to pursue. Before coming to college, I had no idea what engineering was. All I knew is that they were people who liked to build things to make life easier. The only reason I went into engineering was because I had teachers tell me that I was doing well in my math and science classes. Another reason was because of how difficult this major was perceived to be. I was the teen that believed I was so ready for college, and that high school was a breeze. I wanted a challenge, and engineering definitely delivered that. Somehow, I have survived these past three years, and with that I forced myself to “enjoy” engineering. I don’t think I have ever hyped up engineering, rather I enjoyed talking about the work I have done with students. That work has been focused on incoming first-year students, and the students who identify as BIPOC. My favorite part about working with those students has been seeing them grow to be leaders on campus, whether it’s within their majors or with organizations.  These past couple of years I have seen that my involvement in Student Affairs has given me the opportunity to look into Higher Education as a possible career choice.

Why continue engineering if there’s a possibility of not going into that field? Honestly, I am too deep into the program to change my major, but I have also never thought about what other fields would interest me. I have acknowledged that engineering has also given me a lot of skills that can be applied elsewhere. There’s a small portion of engineers that have decided to go through different routes whether it be law, medicine, business, or education. One’s major and passions may not always coincide, although there are people who have been able to find that. My passion is to serve others, and while I know that there are ways that I can do that with engineering it’s not something I can see myself doing. I want to say that it’s okay if your major and passion don’t coincide. It’s not the end of the world, I promise you.

This is an idea of how my reflections go, obviously they go way more in depth and are more complicated than this. Reflection has given me the opportunity to ask myself the hard and scary questions. It has also allowed me to reflect on the kind of person I was, the person I am, and the person I want to be.

Colorism by Willet Debrah

I met my best friend, Marglucy Omwega, in the 4th grade. We both arrived in America around the same time. She came from Kanya. I came from Ghana.  The only thing we had in common was the darkness of our skin. Throughout our school years, people would often confuse our names or would ask if we were sisters. From an early age, we recognized how differently people treated us, including our peers.  People would tell us that “we were too pretty to be dark-skinned,” as if we couldn’t be dark and beautiful. Society made it clear that there was something more appealing to lighter skin and boys in school made sure that we were aware of their preferences. In elementary school and middle school we both faced bullying. It wasn’t until high school that we embraced our beauty and recognized that we are God’s masterpiece. Beautifully and wonderfully made in his image. 

In our young adult lives, we have both discovered different ways to bring awareness to Colorism and how it has impacted our lives. 

For me, it has been understanding what it truly means to love my blackness. 

Colorism is an endless battle dark skinned people fight in a society that glorifies light skin. Colorism is a huge problem especially for dark skinned women. Society has made it hard for women to exist and even harder for dark skinned women. From my own experience as a dark skinned woman,  I am constantly trying not to be seen as the angry Black woman, trying to earn people’s approval and show that I am just as qualified as them in whatever I do. I am not allowed to make mistakes, because I am already seen as incapable. I not only need to earn my worth, but also my existence. Imagine being a woman in society, now imagine being a dark skinned woman in society. My only message to dark skin women and girls is this: Love your skin, it carries the story of your ancestors. Be proud of its history. Be proud of your resilience. Marilyn Monroe once said: “Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it’s better to be Absolutely Ridiculous than Absolutely Boring.” Learn to love the color of your skin. Love the way it glows in the sun. I hope reading this blog post helps someone discover their beauty and I hope it helps someone learn a little more about colorism and is aware of its damaging effects.  I am grateful that I did not experience colorism alone. I am grateful that I had Marglucy, my sister, and my friend.

Let the World Come to You by Kiera Pratt

As I was speaking with my CAPS alumni mentor this past week, he shared a story and the essence of this story is to be content with letting the world come to you, which is exactly the point my mentor was trying to get across as I expressed the somewhat indecisiveness I have towards my career plan. He goes on to share a story about a woman who was riding on the train and received a call from her boss asking her to contact someone.  Overwhelmed with yet another task to complete, she happened to look up from her phone, gaze down the aisle of the train car, and to her dismay see the person she was asked to contact. A perfect example of letting the world come to you.  

 

Oftentimes as college students I think we are taught to be proactive, network, and seek out great resume building experiences, but I also think it is so incredibly important to let opportunities come to you.  While I believe that taking those actionary measures yourself is crucial, I am learning that being patient can also lead me to paths I may not have considered.  Being a young professional is no easy task and navigating the workforce can be difficult when some of us are still grappling with what we envision our future career to look like.  

 

At the ripe age of 18, we are asked to determine a major that consequently may determine our future career and the rest of our lives. While college is not the path that all high school graduates take, there is still an expectation that future plans be decided on.  Pressure to choose a discipline that will be fruitful and rewarding, the fear of losing interest, and the expectations to succeed at a high level have real effects on a young person. And yes, I understand that students have an opportunity to change their majors if they do not see themselves working in that field in the future.  Truthfully, I was one of those students.  The uncertainty that looms entering college can still exist getting ready to leave college. 

 

Fast forward two years later after one major change and as I enter my senior year of college, the decisions I have to make as a soon-to-be graduate are quite similar to the ones I had to make when I was navigating the college space.  The question is now – what do you really want to do with your life? I contemplate this question quite often and I get frustrated because the questions do not end there.  The internal dialogue I have with myself comes with bouts of uncertainty, periods of hope, and sometimes feelings of content.  However, I face the same challenge I did entering the workforce as I did entering college which is defining what I want to do.  

 

At the nucleus of the CAPS fellow program and the Institute of Leadership and Service is the idea of defining one’s purpose and calling.  I think this program has been such a formative experience for me in that I have been able to define partially what I want to do in life.  While those plans are still partially unexplored on top of being uncertain, I gained a knowledge of an industry that I otherwise would not have had the opportunity to and for that I am grateful.  I realized that it is okay to not be consumed with what my next step will be and to not constantly search for what I think I need.  Maybe what I actually need is to just let the world come to me and take a moment to look up and see if what I need is actually a train car away.  

 

We think we know what we want, but the world is actually showing us what we need.  At a young age, our future is already being played out in front of us and it is up to us to decide what road we want to take, but I think it is important to look up and look around to see what it is we actually need to move forward.

Your Environment by Akira Kennedy

There are a lot of things that have a subconscious or conscious impact on you. Waking up to it being a gloomy day versus a sunny day affects you. The way someone says something to you, or your outfit of the day. Over the course of these past few months I have had the time to acknowledge these subtle changes in my day, and how they can drastically change my mood. I started only picking out clothes that I wanted to wear, so that I can have that extra ounce of confidence. I noticed the difference in mood when I did not get fresh air and when I did. The difference of one less hour of sleep. Right now I am noticing how my bedroom does not fit my current needs and plays a big part in the lack of motivation I have been feeling since quarantine started. It took me a while to figure that out though, but I realized that the “vibe” at school is way different from the one at home. I feel relaxed in both, I know people in both. But school is made for school and home is not school (duh). I no longer had the same amount of independence,

I had to take my family back into account (I always think about them of course, but I did not have to physically deal with them and the emotions they have too), and usually when I am home, it’s during breaks so I typically do not have to do anything. Making the mental switch to starting working on school and then eventually an internship all while at home was so foreign to me, and a really huge mental block I had to get around. We are always told to separate work and home, but that has been impossible these past few months and so anything to change your environment and make your days home a little bit better is something to do. I say all of this to also mention that your work environment is just as important. I have been working with Heartland’s Youth and Family Services team for 2 months now, and because of the relationships and remote environment they had created- I felt and still feel so good working with them. They inspire me to put my best foot forward, and they encourage me to share my ideas. Having an ideal work environment is so important. Just like the college you choose. You are going to spend a lot of your time at this place with these people, so it is important that you feel good while there. I am glad to say that I have found that at both Valpo and in Heartland. Though both are temporary stops, I feel more confident and willing to find other places where I feel the same.

Tip of the Iceberg by Christy Craig

I have just finished up week 6 of my fellowship at The Village at Rockville (TVAR) with 2 weeks left to go. It’s rather surreal. Yesterday feels like my first day, yet I’ve learned so much since then. Admittedly, the first several weeks were quite difficult. I tried to be optimistic, but a huge part of me felt like a failure. I struggled to communicate effectively with my supervisor and thus I didn’t know what was required of me, let alone when or how I should go about doing it. That being said, I knew deep down that this experience was stretching me in the best way. 

 

A big part of this discomfort, I think, was transitioning from an educational setting to a work setting. As someone who has always felt comfortable in school, adjusting to work life was uncomfortable to say the least. As an illustration, in school, you’re assigned with projects with clear instructions and deadlines. You go to class for a set period of time then have free time to study, go to extracurriculars, or work a part-time job. The 9-5 life, on the other hand, is entirely different. For starters, there’s the 8 hour block staring at a computer screen with the occasional lunch and 10-minute break. Then there’s meeting your coworkers, figuring out who can act as a mentor when you have a question (I always have a lot), and learning how to ask the right questions. To succeed, I had to become much better at a variety of things I did not previously have to do (e.g. constantly following up, strategizing how to improve communication, taking intentional breaks, guiding a conversation in the right direction). While this led to several uncomfortable “growth” weeks, I am finally starting to feel more comfortable in my shoes. Further, I have realized this experience is only the tip of the iceberg; the beginning of figuring out what I want my life to look like after I finish graduate school. 

 

In addition to helping me improve my soft skills and adapt to work culture, this fellowship has helped me realize some new interests. You see, going into this summer, I was dead set on working at The Village at Orchard (or TVOR as they call it). I wanted to be on the clinical side, helping to set up a clinic at that location. With the onset of COVID-19, however, my plans changed. Suddenly, TVOR was unable to take me on remotely, and I was moved to TVAR. Although I was hesitant at first (the role seemed to business-y to me), I have since surprised myself by thoroughly enjoying the big picture work I get to do. For example, I have gotten to work on TVAR’s master plan (aka what they want their organization to look like in the next 5-10 years) and their strategic plan (smaller goals that help drive the master plan). This work has helped me understand the complexity, time, and effort that goes into an organization’s future and the challenging decisions that must be made. It’s also given me the opportunity to work with a bunch of the senior leadership team (directors of marketing, nursing, dining, sales, and philanthropy, just to name a few). As a result of these experiences, I’ve started considering the ways in which business shapes health care (and vice versa), and I’ve been hoping that some of my health policy courses will touch on this. Anyway, this is just a little bit about what I have been up to this summer, and I hope you enjoyed reading about it. Overall, this experience has been both challenging and unexpected, but also extremely rewarding and enlightening!

Wondering and Deciding by Ashley Winiewicz

What do you think it would have been like, you know all of us sitting in the office working together this summer? A question the interns often find ourselves asking one another during our online meetings. We wonder if we would be more efficient working at desk next to each other or if our side chats would turn into endless hours of conversation. As questions pile up about how the internship would have been it’s evident these thoughts will have to continue to wander in our minds as we continue working from home under the same mission, values, and goals of our company. Despite the numerous what-if questions regarding how the internship, recent conversations with my CAPS mentors have left me pondering on my next step after graduation.

The next big what-if consists of making the decision for life post-undergrad and what will be the right decision. Though, what I have learned after talking to my mentors is that there are no right or wrong decisions I can make. The lesson is short and sweet but spoke volumes. There is no right or wrong decision any of us can make when it comes to our next step because we don’t have the ability to know whether the options we are deciding between are good or bad in that moment. We don’t have the power to know at the moment the outcome of our decisions, instead, years from now when you look back on the decisions made then you will be able to see if that was the right decision. Maybe it was not the right decision in the end but at the time it was and you only know that by unlearning the concept of right and wrong when it comes to deciding on two options in your life. One should decide on what they feel called to do in that current moment, instead of doing what feels most right, choosing an option that is honest and true to yourself will fulfill yourself at that moment. With that, I’m learning that we label our decisions good or bad based on our perspective of the situation after we have decided. I can’t decide on making plans post grad implying one of the options will be the wrong choice or that one is right. At the moment both decisions could be great but I should be deciding on what feels true to myself in order to better serve those around me.

It may seem like a minute discovery for some, that you don’t have the power in knowing whether you are making the right decision but when I finally understood this concept it was pretty monumental.

Hope you’re staying happy & healthy,

Ashley

Dissolving the American Dream by Thespina Dabagia

            My CAPS fellowship has led me to working as an intern for the Interfaith Community for Detained Immigrants which is a non-profit, faith-based organization out of Chicago, Illinois. We are comprised of staff and hundreds of volunteers who respond to the suffering of people, families, and communities affected by the immigration system in this country. ICDI runs five programs that respond to the various needs of people in and after detention; jail visitation ministry, court watch, deportation accompaniment, Chicago Immigrant Transit Assistance/Hotline, and the Unaccompanied Children’s Interfaith Ministry. Though my internship with ICDI may be non-traditional because of COVID-19, it has been nothing short of extraordinary. I have spent time reading immigration court reports and learning about non-profit financial management in times like these. I have also spent time researching nationwide community contacts that we can provide as resources when we welcome formerly detained people at the bus station. The project I am most excited about starting is a volunteer reading group I am leading along with the supervisor of the jail visitation ministry. The goal of this reading group is to share in conversation around collective readings to build and develop solidarity with immigrants detained in ICE facilities. I think it will be extremely interesting and engaging while also allowing me to get a closer understanding of our volunteer population.

            Immersing myself (technologically) in the immigration justice work that we do at ICDI has opened my eyes to the realities of our country’s failing immigration system and how the “American Dream” we so proudly parade for the world to see is not applicable to everyone. All through college I have been merely reading about ICE’s cruelty and the Trump administration’s hateful rhetoric towards immigrants but truly working with the individuals and communities impacted by this broken system is beyond disheartening. What we need not forget is that ICE’s purpose is cruelty. ICE is trying to normalize separating families in detention centers with limited hygiene products during a pandemic by referring to them as “Family Residential Centers”. We’re living in a country where children, as young as four years old, are forced to represent themselves Pro Se in court. ICE has continued deportation flights, packed with people suffering from COVID-19 who contracted the illness in our overpopulated detention centers. Not only is our government refusing to implement proper nationwide pandemic prevention, we are now sending the people that we have made sick back to countries trying to contain their own outbreaks. Now, ICE is threatening international students with the ultimatum of attending university classes in-person and get sick or get deported. There is no excuse for ICE’s cruelty, there are absolutely viable alternatives to detaining people inhumanely. According to a report by the National Immigration Forum, ICE spends an average of $200 per person each day in immigration detention while alternative programs like community supervision or electronic monitoring can cost as low as $4.50 per day. When the alternatives are proven to be more cost effective, it is clear that the purpose of ICE’s detention centers are to inhumanely punish migrants.

            Asides from the existence of cost-effective alternatives, I think our obsession with punishing migrants is just horrific. How many times have you heard a parent say they would die for their children? How many movies have we seen where parents do anything to keep their families safe? For migrant families, these are not hypotheticals. These are the realities in which they live. Not only do we detain them in disgusting jails where they are forced to pay commissary for basic things like soap or toothpaste, but in immigration court we make them relive the traumatic experiences they are seeking asylum from. When they don’t provide enough detail (most likely because they are afraid of retribution from the kind of situations they are escaping), our immigration courts cite lack of evidence and their pursuit for a better life is denied. With ICE running our immigration system like the gestapo, there is no chance for the American Dream. Of course, the easy counter to my argument is to say “they just need to come here legally!”. To which I would reply; how many times have you experienced civil war in your home country? How many times have you seen your family members massacred in front of you? How many times have you genuinely feared for your family’s life to the point where you feel that giving up your home country and all your belongings is necessary in order to survive? And again, how many times have you heard a parent say they would do anything for their child/ren? Essentially the United States has three modes of obtaining lawful permanent residency. The first is that a qualified family member in the United States can petition to bring a qualified foreign-born family member to the country. However, that sponsor must live above the poverty line and be able to financially support the family member they are bringing to the states. So, don’t have a family member in the U.S.? Or have a family member in the U.S. but they are one of the 38.1 million Americans in poverty? No American Dream for you. The second way is to be granted asylum from political persecution or fear of persecution based on things like race or religion. As I previously explained, it is extremely difficult to be granted asylum as immigration courts require a high evidentiary burden. So, unless you are willing to recount the specific details of your trauma, complete with physical evidence and no fear of retaliation, no American Dream for you. The last means of lawful immigration is when U.S. employers sponsor someone to come work and live in the U.S. The qualifications for sponsorship are extremely high and can include having an advanced degree, exceptional artistic talent, and/or specialized work experience in science and business. This means that America doesn’t value you unless you can provide us with substantial evidence that you have something we want. This means that the idea of the American Dream where America is a place that you can achieve anything you want if you just work hard, really only considers you viable for the American Dream if you have already established yourself somewhere else. In other words, the hard work should be done before you come here. This idea of being extremely exceptional in order to be deserving of citizenship is also asinine as undocumented workers are the literal backbone of the agricultural, meatpacking, landscaping, domestic services, and construction industries of our country. If the United States is going to continue to proudly tout the American Dream while making it nearly impossible to qualify for legal citizenship for the people who actually need it, then we are doing something gravely wrong. Immigrants are what makes this country great, not a phrase that has come to be ironic in its meaning.

A Changed Fourth of July by Justin McClain

As I write this blog post, my parents are having a conversation about what my family is going to grill on Saturday to celebrate our nation’s independence, my sister is outside working on her tan so she can get the perfect Instagram picture, and I have a countdown ticking away on my phone to when Hamilton drops on Disney+. My life probably mirrors many other lives across the United States today; people are changing their Fourth of July plans to fit the restraints of the pandemic and wrapping up their work for the three-day weekend, but there is one major difference. I cannot stop thinking about the millions of people in camps across the world who are anxiously awaiting approval to seek refuge in a country like the United States.

 

I am not trying to get political, but I am going to state a few facts that I have learned so far during my time with Heartland Alliance.

 

First, a refugee is anyone who is forced to flee their home country due to persecution of their identity (political beliefs, religion, sexual orientation, etc.) or danger from war. There is also a growing number of people being forced from their home country due to famine, natural disasters, or flooding caused by climate change, but the United States does not recognize climate change as a valid reason for seeking refuge. In any case, no one wants to leave their home, family, friends, life, language, culture, and memories behind, but the only other choice a refugee has is death.

 

Second, the number of refugees accepted by the United States has drastically diminished since the current presidential administration took office. In FY 2016, the United States accepted roughly 110,000 refugees. In FY 2020, there was a hard cap placed at 18,000. To put this into perspective, 18,000 refugees is less than 0.5% of the total refugees resettled in a different country each year. This means more than 99.5% of refugees (not people waiting in the camps, but 99.5% of people actually granted refugee status) are sent to a country other than the United States.

 

Lastly, the refugee application and approval process is extremely complex. When the process was explained to me, a native English speaker nearing the end of his college education, I was getting lost in all the agencies involved, steps that have to be taken, terminology associated with the topic, and could not even begin to imagine how hard it would be for someone who does not speak English or is not familiar with the United States’ government. Not only is the process complicated, it is also very time-consuming. On average, a refugee waits 17 years to be accepted into the United States. 17 years. Let that sink in. You could even say that a mother simply seeking safety, food, and shelter for her newborn child faces harsher vetting than the President of the United States.

 

Those facts, along with stories some of the refugees have shared, have shown me a side of our country and the world that I had not previously known.

 

While you sing or listen to the words “the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,” please take a moment to truly listen to those words and think about what they mean for our country. The rockets and bombs gave us hope almost 250 years ago, but rockets and bombs are currently doing the very opposite on the other side of the world. They are destroying villages and ripping families apart. Still, the United States appears to forget our history and origin. The Revolutionary War ended with a victory for the colonies and gave birth to a country that was welcoming to most people (it would be unfair of me to say ‘all people’ and ignore the racism and sexism that was, and still is, present in our country) who wanted to escape oppression and authoritarian rule. What happened to our country that was founded by immigrants – dare I say, refugees – looking for safety and a new start? What is different about the persecution, oppression, war, and utter disregard for human dignity the people in refugee camps faced in their home country? Oh, that’s right. Our country has the privilege to have that be a part of our past. We can forget. The refugees cannot.

 

Happy Fourth of July.

 

An African Girl by Willet Debrah

Hi, my name is Willet Debrah, and I’ve been working alongside Water To Thrive this summer. My blog is based on a documentary on childhood marriage in Africa. This poem may be triggering to some people as it expresses  violence and/or assault. I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to explore the challenges faced in African communities, which I am no stranger to, spending my childhood in Ghana. I hope to illuminate the reality of oppression that women often face being raised through this poem especially the lack of education for younger girls and childhood marriage:

 

An African Girl 

 

The first thing an African girl is taught 

Is not that she is beautiful,

Is not that she is capable,

Is not that she is brave,

Is not that she can be the best she could possibly be 

But rather, 

She is taught that she is not her own

She is taught to clean while the boys play,

She is taught to take care of a home, for no man will marry her if she can’t, 

She is taught to be a slave for her man 

So from the day she is born, she has been learning how to serve a man,

How to pleasure him,

How to give him a child,

Her beauty is measured by her bride price

30 cows

15 goats

10 bags of yams and cassavas 

5 chickens 

Objects that are incomparable to a human life

But this is her price

This is her childhood sold to a man three times her age

To a man old enough to be her father

To a man she once called uncle 

To a man who forces himself on her every night 

This is the tragic story of many African girls 

This is sometimes mistaken as culture 

This is unimaginable 

This is child abuse

This is not culture

This is slavery 

This is rape

This is a 15 year old girl who marries a 50 year old man

This was her childhood 

This was her only education

This is the source of her death

This is the story of thousands of African girls.

 

Civil Unrest and Digital Rights by Elizabeth Palmer

In the past four weeks,
● I’ve been unironically listening to “Earth” by Lil Dicky;
● I accidentally got a caffeine addiction because I found the perfect way to make a chai in the morning;
● I’ve considered dropping out and becoming a beekeeper enough times that it seems like it may actually be a good idea;
● I watched Queer Eye’s new season in one sitting and had an out-of-body experience;
● I got an “under his eye” face mask that I’m probably too excited about; and
● I’ve been working on getting my “Liz energy” back by reading Untamed by Glennon Doyle (it’s working).

 

I’m about halfway through my CAPS Fellowship at Internews in Washington, D.C. I’ve been working from my parents’ house in Kouts, IN, quarantining with a close group of friends, attending protests, and hanging out with my dogs and nephew.

 

My main role is to help the Global Tech arm within Internews think more strategically about how they’re telling their story, but I’ve also helped with content creation and copywriting. I’ll be moving to more writing assignments as the communication plan gets finished in the next few weeks.

 

I’ve thought more about anti-censorship, digital security and digital rights in the past month than I have in my entire time at Valpo. I’ve always avoided anything to do with STEM and never considered that a person can’t be a human rights activist without also fighting in the digital space. I started out way out of my element, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of things and have already come to appreciate how technology plays a role in activism.

 

It’s been especially helpful to be learning about digital rights and free press as a journalism student in a period of misinformation campaigns, elections and a global pandemic. I didn’t realize how valuable this work has been in application to other parts of my life.

 

My passion is communication. I am the “Media”, whether I like it or not. I’m Director of Marketing for TEDxValparaisoUniversity, Vice President Member Education for my sorority and the Opinions Editor for The Torch.

 

I’ve always known ethics play a huge role in my responsibilities, but they’ve been challenged way past what I could have learned in a classroom this year. With each new addition to my resume, I learn more and more about what information audiences can benefit from and what ends up just being harmful or white noise. Four weeks in, I can’t imagine being an activist going forward without also advocating for independent media and rights in the digital space.

Lost in Translation by Marie Dix

During my first few weeks working with the refugee case management team at Heartland Alliance, I would tell my curious friends and family (partly joking) that I call people I don’t know in languages I don’t speak to help connect them with services I know little about. Every day that assessment becomes a little less true, as with each encounter I get to know our families better and learn the ins and outs of services SSI and SNAP and WIC. Although I’ve become fluent in social service acronyms, I haven’t made much progress on my Swahili, Pashto, or Arabic, so I guess my original statement will always be a little true! I will forever be grateful for our skilled, generous, and endlessly patient interpreters. 

 

I have always been less comfortable on the phone than in person, and the first few calls I made, though well intentioned, were awkward and impersonal. I wasn’t prepared to deal with the layers that made remote, intercultural communication a challenge for a new intern. I kept thinking how much easier it would be to connect if I could look people in the eyes and I didn’t have to say things like “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? No, no your English is fine, it’s my phone connection!” 

 

Through no fault of interpreters, there was so much that was getting lost in translation.To most people I called, I was a disembodied voice on the end of a phone line, who interrogated them with a series of personal questions through a third party and then appeared again a day later with the news that some mysterious application or appointment had been made. I was getting lost, and not only in the usual “newbie” kind of way. Who I was- my personality, my tone of voice, the fact that I cared for this cause and wanted to get to know these people–wasn’t translating very well. 

 

The remedy for this frustration has been invitations to group zoom calls. My favorite days have been those where I get to meet and see participants in a more personal and less formal setting. There I can match a voice to a face and apartment walls, and even their little ones waving at the camera. My business calls are so much smoother and more genuine after I have talked with someone about their favorite foods and music during our weekly “creative corner” meetings, or seen them smile as their name was called at virtual English class graduation. I learn the most about them on Friday mornings at “cultural orientations” as I listen in on a small groups to hear their thoughts and questions on topics like racism in America or the COVID-19 pandemic. 

 

This work gives me a tiny glimpse into the complicated and frustrating experience of being a refugee in 2020. I am hoping that my efforts will make life a little easier for some incredibly resilient people who have conquered, and continue to conquer, situations more painful and difficult than I can imagine. Many of them too feel lost in a new culture, or lost as the world they finally understood was turned upside down by a world pandemic. I want them to know that I believe in them, am amazed by them, and I want to see them succeed. Day by day, call by call, we are finding our way.

The Irony of Productivity Videos by Emily Friedman

The Valpo Career Center sends emails during the summer. Normally I give the email a quick glance then I send it to the trash, but I decided to read this one more carefully. On the page was a quote from Hassan Akmal stating, “Employers are not going to judge you if you are unemployed during a pandemic. However, they are going to focus on what you did during this time. What they want to see is that you are productive and taking your career development seriously.” Next to that quote was the “new #1 interview question” asking, “What have you been working on?”

 

What have I been working on?

 

This summer I am working at The Bridge Teen Center, a nonprofit organization in Orland Park, Illinois. Celebrating its 10th anniversary, The Bridge provides free, holistic youth programs that focus on a teen’s physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional well-being. Activities are designed to fit one of the five “buckets:” Everyday Life, Community Connections, Educational Support, Mind/Body, and Expressive Arts. As someone that is passionate about youth development and was interested in summer programming, I knew that The Bridge Teen Center was the place for me.

 

Then COVID-19 happened.

 

CAPS fellows were informed that internships would be remote. Considering the people-oriented nature of my internship, I was given the choice: I could either stay at The Bridge or I could move to another organization. If I relocated, I was guaranteed a remote job that I could start right away. If I stayed, I would be able to work in-person, but this all depended on state protocols. This meant waiting at least a month to see where things were headed. To make up for lost time, my internship would continue into the Fall semester.

 

Given the circumstances, I felt grateful to have an internship at all. I chose to stay at The Bridge because their mission matched my interests and the opportunity was worth the wait. Every week CAPS fellows check in with each other to see how everyone is doing. For the first few weeks, I didn’t have much to contribute about my job, but I always enjoyed listening to other people’s experiences and having fruitful conversations about service and social justice.

 

Thinking back to the email from the Career Center, I asked myself how I planned to spend my time during this season of waiting. On one hand, I could dive into “hustle culture” and plan my days down to the minute to maximize productivity. One the other hand, it’s summer vacation! I can do whatever I want! And by “do whatever I want” I mean do nothing at all because I can. Both sides of the spectrum are extreme and they’re both forms of self-destruction. All work and no play creates burnout, but a hedonistic lifestyle is artificial fulfillment.

 

As a fan of the self-help genre, it is a guilty pleasure to scroll through health and wellness videos on YouTube. Titles such as “My 6:00 am Morning Routine” or “10 Tips to Make Your Day More Productive” clog my feed. In my mind, I’m thinking, “This twenty-minute video will unlock all the secrets to life. I will finally have the tools and the inspiration to become my best self!” Video after video, I realized that I was spending more time watching than actually doing something. Why was that?

 

Certainly, those videos can be a good source of entertainment, but at the time, I wasn’t sure if I had any goals outside of a work setting. Losing the structure that I have at school, on top of a pandemic, made me crave a sense of consistency and normalcy. I was turning to other people’s lifestyles to find inspiration for my own.

 

I brainstormed some goals for myself. They’re the kind of goals that people announce on New Year’s Eve but then slowly forget about them by the time February rolls around. That’s something that I’ve noticed with goal setting and why some goals feel more achievable than others. As someone that loves to check something off her to-do list, if there was something that I really wanted to accomplish, I would have done it by now or I would have already made time for it. Considering that I have nothing but time, I can’t really use the excuse “I don’t have time” to justify my inaction. What was holding me back?

 

I realized that I didn’t have a clear “Why” for my goals, nor did I really have a plan for how I wanted to achieve them. Take any goal and let’s call it X. Typically, I would say something like “X is good for you” but that isn’t motivating enough for me to go out and do it. Instead, it makes me feel bad whenever I don’t do X because I’m not doing something that’s good for me. I had to change my thinking. As for creating a plan, I had to experiment with what worked and what didn’t. I could watch all the productivity videos in the world, but I am the only one that can figure out what is going to work for me.

 

In the next blog post, I hope to write more about my time at The Bridge. Thus far, I’ve toured the facility and had a few trainings. As I’ve been writing this blog post, I got an email from my supervisor asking me to plan an activity for August. Coincidentally, the title of the program is called #SKILLS: Prioritize your Goals. I hope I can bring some wisdom to that event.

 

In peace,

Emily

 

 

 

How Much Does Water Cost? by Gabe Martinez

Water is a source of life. Our lives revolve around water. Without it we would be a desert. The way it quenches our thirst, cleanses our bodies, and nurtures our food, what would you pay for something that does that and even more? What do you currently pay for the water that is in your home, for a water bottle, or for some kind of filtration system? Who would’ve thought that clean water, a need, would actually cost money? Or does it cost more than that?

To the people of Lemanda Village, it has cost them their lives.

I am currently working on a project for Water to Thrive, a non-profit organization that focuses on building wells for villages in Africa. My project is to find a solution for the excess fluoride that is found in nearby water sources in Lemanda. The effects of excess fluoride can span from teeth discoloration, stiffening of the bones, and can hinder child development. Their water does not look, smell or taste any different than potable water so they continue to drink it. In reality, that is the only choice they have other than dehydrating themselves. The solution is using a specific filter that will remove the excess fluoride, but there are other obstacles that will not allow the solution to be long-term. Those obstacles are a lack of education and guidance, and funds for the solution. Not being able to visibly see that the water is toxic makes it difficult to convince the people that there is a problem and seeing no visible difference after the filter makes it even harder. Lack of guidance also makes it harder to show the people how the filters work and how they can check their water instead of relying on Western organizations to do it for them. A lack of funding takes away from being able to have filters to clean their water, at some point they would have to choose water over food or vice versa. To them clean water is costing them an immense amount of time, effort, and money. Once they have clean water, it’s not going to reverse the permanent effects that the fluoride has had on their people. When will they begin to reap the benefits of their work?

I started to think about how realistic it is to have clean water, not just in Africa, but also in the U.S. Does our government provide every person with clean water? We are considered a “developed” country, yet a good portion of the U.S. doesn’t have access to clean water for example Flint, Michigan. You’d imagine that the Flint situation should have been fixed by now, but it has been 5 years since it became news, and nothing has changed. How are these communities supposed to wash their hands during a pandemic without having clean water? If the people of these communities don’t have jobs during the pandemic, how are they supposed to pay for their filthy water, or overpriced bottled water? They will have to make a choice of whether they should pay for water or other necessities. Hmm, that sounds a lot like the situation in Lemanda. It’s interesting to notice that our water infrastructure mirrors the system of a developing country. Yet, we are so proud of how much we have grown as a country, but in reality, we haven’t. We have put bandages on deep wounds in hope that it goes away.

Instead of accepting that there’s a problem with access and cost of clean water, there are companies who are benefitting from there not being clean water. There are water bottle, filter, and cleaning companies that are profiting off a need.  The quality and access of water should not be privatized and used to make profit when we literally need clean water to survive. There’s so much more to unpack, but this will turn out to be more than just a blog.

I hope this has provoked some thought and encouraged you to look into our corrupt and unequal water system.

So how much does your water cost?