I know, I know. It’s been a while. A long while. Not for lack of trying, or thinking, or wanting… But this weekend, I had the privilege of giving the JV reflection at the JVC NW Fundraiser. That was the first time in a LONG time I’d openly expressed how I’ve really been doing these past 9 months. And I thought it could be worth sharing. So, if you’re curious…read the following and pretend like you’re in a room full of Former Jesuit Volunteers drinking copious amounts of beer and wine. In fact, maybe crack open a bottle before reading, that might help…
“Hello, my name is Maddie Regan, and I am a member of the Cherry Abbey, or “Chabbey” community, as we affectionately call it. I’ve spent these past 9 months as the mainstream services liaison at the Urban Rest Stop, an organization that helps people experiencing homelessness take care of their basic hygiene needs by providing free laundry, showers, and restrooms, as well as referral services. To get a feel for the space I serve in, I want you to picture a Laundromat, with a hallway of showers in the back, and my desk smack dab in the middle of it all. I am constantly surrounded by our patrons and staff, whom I have come to love and cherish in a way that I find hard to truly express. And if I’m being honest and vulnerable (a concept strongly encouraged since Day 1 of orientation…) I think that’s why this reflection was so hard to write. How do I put into words the incredible gratitude I feel to serve at an organization like the Urban Rest Stop, a place centered around creating human dignity through direct service, in such an intimate way? How do I express to friends and family that this year I have experienced the transformation of my heart and mind in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined? I want to take this opportunity to share what I’ve learned since becoming a JV about the privilege I have, and what it means to create a more just world. Big plans, I know. But bear with me!
I suppose I should start with why I willingly signed up to live in a house with 7 strangers, work countless hours, and get paid far less than the soon-to-be 15 dollar minimum wage. In making the choice to pursue JVC Northwest, I was yearning to be changed, to have my white, privileged world flipped upside down. I suppose my story leading me to this program was unique, as all of them are. You see, I’ve wanted to be a JV since I was 16… I know what you’re thinking-every 16 year old thinks they know what’s best for them, and how does JVC NorthWest brainwash them so young?? The summer of my sophomore year of high school, I went on the Portland Plunge, a week long immersion into simple living while serving folks experiencing homelessness. That immersion was, and still is, coordinated by a JV. I fell in love with the idea that a program like this existed, that I could be a part of something with pillars based around community, social justice, spirituality, and simple living. A program where I could live out my faith while cultivating my growing passion for service and justice. Needless to say, at 16 years old I had my rose colored glasses on, but here I am 6 years later, fulfilling that desire to be a catalyst for change, in ways far different than I could have ever expected.
I say this because being a JV is hard sometimes. Well, most times. In fact, this year has been one of the hardest of my life, but in the best way. Let’s start with community. 8 strangers under one roof can be the best thing, or the worst thing, usually a combination of both. Never did I think I could get so impassioned talking about my peanut butter preference (chunky salted, if you were wondering…), or that I could have a 4 hour long conversation about to the thermostat temperature. But what I think is unique to JVC Northwest is that I’ve gotten to know my community so well that just months later, I feel comfortable enough to fight for my right to eat that chunky, salted peanut butter! Or when I’ve had a long, hard day at the Rest Stop, I know I am coming home to people that get it. Friends that get what it means to serve wholeheartedly, to have their hearts broken wide open weekly, if not daily. An intentional community where we can talk about our role in the gentrification of our Central District neighborhood, where we can motivate and encourage each other to be catalysts of change amid the growing disparity of wealth and privilege in the booming Seattle economy.
And it’s not just community; the value of simple living has allowed me to step back and realize the incredible place of wealth I come from. I think it’s important to acknowledge the privilege I have in serving as a JV this year. I recognize that as a white, middle class, college graduated millennial, I have an infinite amount of opportunity. And to be quite honest, I needed to be humbled in a way that made me realize this. I came into my JV year with the frame of mind that I “knew” what to do; I had gone to school, I had 8 years of Jesuit education under my belt, I’d volunteered all over the world. I could do this! But really, I came into this year ignorant of the privilege I had been born into. I remember my first day at the Rest Stop, bright eyed and eager to put my classroom skills into practice, and I quickly realized that was NOT going to work. Turns out I didn’t have all, or really any, of the answers, and if I truly wanted to help, I needed to listen. I needed to be present to the very people I was sent here to serve. I still have no clue what it’s like to experience homelessness, or to encounter institutional racism, issues patrons I meet at the URS deal with daily. But I can sit, and I can listen to people living that reality.
Leading up to this year, I wrote often, using it as a way to process. But something changed when I started to hear the stories of the folks I spend my days alongside. I had a realization, for better or worse, that words could not do what I was hearing justice. That it would be a vast simplification of something incredibly raw and human, because homelessness is a complex and messy issue. I would argue that’s why so many people walk straight by the person panhandling on the corner without acknowledging their existence. Homelessness can happen to anyone, at any time, for any number of reasons, and that’s scary. But the beautiful thing about the Rest Stop, and the organizations JVC North West partners with, is the opportunity for humanity and compassion. I say that and you might be tempted to think I’m the one showing compassion, doing this great humanitarian work, when in reality, I am learning far more from my patrons each and every day than I ever learned putting pen to paper in school. From my messy desk in the middle of the URS I see people treating others with a compassion that only comes from shared, raw experience, a compassion that rocks me to my core, and inspires me to love deeper, listen more intently, and be a better person. It fills me with gratitude to be a part of something like JVC NorthWest. What an opportunity I have, to come into an organization for a year, and to learn from people who’ve made this their life’s work. To have mentors who will be serving people on the margins after I leave, after the next JV leaves, and 10 years after that. How lucky am I that I get to be a part of something bigger than me? 60 years bigger, to be exact.
I want you all to know the gratitude I feel for JVC NorthWest and the Urban Rest Stop. I am humbled to share my days with folks who have experienced pain, and loss, and immense amounts of grief, but who embody the gratitude so often missing from middle class America today. Yeah, I could work at a non-profit, live in a crappy apartment (rent is CRAZY here!) and get along just fine. But there’s just something about sharing this experience with people who are exploring the world’s injustices alongside you. You can grieve together, and out of this, hope can grow. Former JVs joke about being ‘ruined for life’ but I cannot stress how TRUE that is. As one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott writes, “I do not understand the mystery of grace—only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” I feel grateful to have experienced an awakening of mind and heart this year, and what a grace it has been.”
Adventure is out there 