2019-20

With any year of service, there will be moments of complete shock. I listened to countless heartbreaking stories of families and individuals struggling to survive in a system that is intended to do just that- keep them down. I heard stories of single Moms telling me they have no food in the house. Families who had the lights turned off for weeks. Situations I could not have imagined if I tried. The hardest lesson I had to learn was that my own privilege, the only reason I was sitting on the side of the table holding the power as a case manager, is a result of circumstances I was born into, circumstances I did nothing to deserve. I was born into a middle class white family, in a neighborhood with good public schools that set me up for college, which in turn opened the door to allow me the privilege to do a year of service. It's a tough concept to swallow, but it has deepened my belief that we need to show up better for each other. There are so many highlights when I think of Austin. The intentional community I lived in with fellow Jesuit Volunteers who will be my people forever. Driving 8 hours to spend the weekend in New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Taking the bus across town to a Halloween party, in full costume, because taking a Lyft while making $100/month is not a thing. Letting my roommate cut 13 inches of my hair off at the dinner table. And a lot of laughing. One moment that will stay with me was my very last day of work. There was a couple I worked with from the beginning of the year and when I met her she was pregnant with her first child. Over the course of the year she had her baby, her partner enrolled into a Goodwill Education course, they paid off a lot of debt, and I got to watch their son grow during his first year of life. On the last day, in the heat of August in Texas, she and her sister, who was enrolled in our family program, took the bus a hour a half through Austin with three babies, just to say goodbye. It meant so much to me.