Thursday, August 15, 2013

August Newsletter & Closing Thoughts


Recognizing Reality

A 14-year-old South Street regular has aspirations to build a hospital in Cambodia, and I find myself angry about it. I'm not angry because of her servant’s heart or her ambitious dream (which will evolve as time goes on, I’m sure). I’m angry because she told me that her uncle told her that it will never happen based on where she grew up. I’m angry because as much as I want to disagree with the man who said this, I find myself asking if it’s possible as well. I’m angry because I think that if I wanted to build a hospital in Cambodia (or intern for little pay over the summer at a ministry) that I could do it. That if I wanted to go to medical school, with a lot of hard work, it could probably happen.

You see I have the luxury and privilege of really being able to do whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it. I have the money, the means, and a way. I have societal power; a power that this 14-year-old may not have growing up in a disadvantaged neighborhood. This is not to say that growing up in an “advantaged neighborhood” (if that’s a real term) would make this dream a reality for her, but I have to think that it may sure make it a lot easier.

This is why South Street Ministries is so close to my heart. The Executive Director hears this girl’s dream and desire to help others and he says, “I know someone who runs a non-profit to help middle school students reach their goals. Let’s look into that for and with this girl!”


Here I have seen what it is to truly care for my neighbor, both my advantaged neighbor and my disadvantaged neighbor. Here I have seen what it truly looks like to treat each person with the respect and dignity, regardless of circumstance. Here I have seen what it is to distribute resources justly, and what happens when resources are distributed unjustly. Here I have seen what the Lord meant when he said His desire was that we “loose the chains of injustice” and “set the oppressed free” (Isaiah 58:6). Here I have seen that gap begin to be bridged between rich and poor, black and white, between the Church and the world, between stranger and neighbor. Here I have seen Jesus Christ through people being His hands and feet.


Here in Akron, I have seen redemptive love.



The Elephant in the Room: Part 2



Note: I grew up in a middle class, suburban(ish), predominantly white neighborhood. South Street Ministries is in an urban area, predominantly black, lower class (majority) neighborhood.

Soon after I worked through the cultural shock of these differences, I soon found that my “middle class” values clashed constantly with the kids. Once, a young girl told me that she was going to fight another girl who was poking fun at her brother. I was repulsed when she said this. Yet as the summer went on at South Street, I realized that fighting was more cultural. Fighting was a way to exhibit protection, either over a relative or over oneself. The girl wanted to protect her brother; fighting was the way to communicate that to the threatening girl. In addition, I learned that fighting is a form of protecting oneself. If fighting isn’t chosen, one may be depicted as a “wimp,” thereby lessening one’s credibility of sorts (to my understanding.)

My time at South Street Ministries has helped me to recognize that Amber Cullen’s “middle class” values and cultural doings do not reflect the way that everyone does things. Through experiences like these, I have learned what it means to actively listen to an individual, community, and an entire neighborhood. 

And to be honest to you, this notion is absolutely radical.


                                                                             Sending much love to you all,
                                                    Amber






A video I created for South Street Ministries last summer! Check out what's going on here!
(If the entire six minutes cannot be viewed here, click on the link to see the full video on YouTube!)




Monday, August 12, 2013

Lesson of the Summer: Kids Give Great Gifts


Gifts have always impacted me deeply. No, I'm not talking of the gifts given at Christmas or birthdays (although those sometimes deeply impact me too). I'm talking about those gifts that you show off to others, not because it's the latest iPhone, but because with this gift you know that you are deeply loved and were deeply thought of in the creating of the gift.

Like the gift where my uncle unveiled a mini-fridge sized painting that he created for me for Christmas. The gift where my grandma preplanned a graduation card and gift for me before her death--a gift that I received two years after her death at my graduation party. 

A little note written from my dad on a Post-It, a letter from one of my best friends affirming me in the middle of a struggle.

These are the gifts that stick with me through the years. They are the ones I save and treasure, relaying a story with each one, a story of the creator of the gift, and the relationship behind it.

This summer I have received my fair share of gifts. I truly believe that children express love through gifts--colored pictures, crafts, anything tactile. Oh, and hugs. Hugs are definitely up on the list. I want to share these gifts with you, and the stories and people behind them.  





It was one of my first days at South Street during the evening's Urban Gardens. I carried my notebook with me (it was the first day; Of course I had to be prepared!). She came up to me, asking if she could write me a note in my notebook. How was I to say no? Twenty minutes later, the notebook had been passed around and five pages were filled with hearts, stick figures, smiles, and notes of love. Even though I didn't know her well, I could see her desire especially to create something I would love, as she took the initiative to ask if she could create me something. This was one of the first gifts.  










Within the first few weeks, I was honored with my first gift from Artist Boy, age 7. At this point, I was not aware of his extreme love for arts and crafts--he was simply another young child creating something. He walked over to me, "Here you go! This is for you!" His front-toothless, sincere grin made me giggle, immediately feeling honored to have such a piece. "Thank you," I replied, smiling.









Artist Boy was intensely creating a masterpiece. Eyebrows furrowed, I watch him focus and blend colors and textures, already having a natural inclination for art. I find myself pleading that as he grows older that his talent in art will be encouraged, not discouraged. I see seeds of discouragement and disdain from others towards his love of art already; my heart breaks




Artist Boy places this artwork in my hands. I pause. "Is this for me?" I can't believe that he would let me have this craft that he worked on for the entire block. This was a special craft, not just something created from the Upper Room's plethora of supplies. A volunteer brought this craft in. He smiles and nods at me, walking away. "Wait, buddy, wait! Come back here!" He strolls back on over. "What is it?" There is an immediate look of overdramatic sullenness on his face and I quickly clarify, "No no no! I love it! I really do! I just want to be able to tell people what your beautiful creation is! Is it a fish? A hot air  balloon? An ice cream cone?"  I felt like I was grasping at straws. He wouldn't let me know what  he meant for it to be, but that didn't really matter. I went home and showed off his gift for family, friends, anyone that would listen. 






My favorite gift from Artist Boy. I was busy creating bracelets one day, and he pestered to have some of the supplies. Trying to focus on what I was doing, I quickly relented, telling him to take whatever he needed. Five minutes later he came back, "IT'S A PERSON!" he exclaimed, putting it into my hands. I could only stare at him in awe. 






Artist Boy may have expressed a lot through art, but there were two other gifts from the summer that are definitely going back to college with me, as they came from two young ladies who aren't very expressive through words, yet managed to express love through gifts.


*  *  *


She had had an impact on me since day one. Although we're ten years apart, I sensed in her a common spirit with myself. Under her fiery and sometimes fighting personality I saw passion, a thirst for things to be right in the world, and a desire to change yet maybe not being aware of what that meant or how to make change happen. 



It was late July. I was preoccupied with maintaining Camp. She came up to me and wrapped a string around my neck. Disoriented, I turned around to see her walk away. Later, she came up behind me, put this necklace around my neck, and tied it secure. I couldn't even hold in my joy. "You!" I said, turning and giving her a hug. We sat there like that for a while, me finally being able to say, "Thank you so much." I wore this necklace on the last day of camp as a gift to her. She noticed. We're both in agreement that there will be tears with the goodbye.   



Mari. I knew she was making this for me, yet that didn't lessen the impact this gift had. With each sassy comment about how long it was taking her to make this, I could see the underlying excitement to give me this gift. "It's a butterfly! I absolutely LOVE butterflies, Mari!"  She responded with such sass, "I know, that's why I picked it." I couldn't help but laugh and feel incredibly loved and thought of at the same time. She gave it to me with a blunt, "Amber! Here you go." I literally squealed in excitement and tackled her with a hug. "THIS IS SO GREAT! I'M GOING TO PUT IT ON MY WALL!" 



With each thoughtful gift received and each thoughtful gift given, there is an underlying reality that love is underneath each gift. And that, my friends, is what drives me to keep on giving gifts to others, affirming and expressing my deep love for them. And it is what makes gift receiving one of the greatest affirmations of love that one can ever give me. 

What's the most thoughtful, loving gift you've ever received from another?