Courage & Wisdom

As we move into our ninth month in Duran, I struggle more and more with the idea of leaving. Just last week, I had a long talk with my boss and mentor, Patricia McTeague, about the possibility of teaching at Fundación Nuevo Mundo for another six months. Our conversation was part of a longer discernment process that began a couple of months ago:

While the volunteer year ends in August, schools in the coastal region run from April to January. Uneasy at the thought of leaving halfway through the school year, I began to contemplate staying until early 2012 a while back. Despite my original inclination, I was torn. For one, I had already accepted admission to law school in the U.S. and was unsure if deferring was prudent. Perhaps more importantly, friends and family had already expected to have me back home this year, and I would be straining a number of personal relationships as well.

After thinking about and praying on this decision for some time, I decided to ask Pat if staying was even an option. She said it was, but that I should talk it over with those close to me first.

Immediately after our meeting, I wrote to my parents. I knew they had been wary of my decision to come here in the first place, so I explained the situation in detail, and asked for their insight. That evening, I gave them a call. Emotions ran high, and we talked for over an hour, parsing the pros and cons. They both felt strongly that law school was the place for me to be come August, but they also felt it was my decision to make, and that they would support me either way. I was unsure what I felt.

The following morning, I got an email from my father. He had said little the night before. In writing, he explained that he had been too worried and surprised to say much, but thankful that I had come to him for advice. That being said, he still thought that I should resume my studies in the fall. Having visited me in February, he felt that I should not let pass the opportunity to develop a critical skill set necessary to address many of the concerns I have encountered during my time in Ecuador.

It was difficult to read this, but I too recognized that in a couple of months it would be time for me to go. I simply was not ready to come to terms with this, for being here has been a true blessing. Indeed, the past nine months have been a difficult, but blessed, learning experience:

It has been hard to sit with friends and neighbors as a witness to situations of overwhelming injustice. It has been hard to see so many lives shaped more by social, political, and economic conditions than by individual decisions. And it has been really hard to recognize that despite my intentions, my actions may have done more harm than good. But for all the hardship, it has been a privilege to be part of a project that works so effectively at providing tangible educational opportunities for many that have been less fortunate in the natural lottery of birth.

I don’t sleep well these days, for I am unsure how I will remain true to the experiences, relationships, and people I have encountered here once I leave. I know I will continue to seriously engage broader questions of education and opportunity for years to come, but I am still unsure how I will seek to address similar situations of inequality in the States, and eventually my native Dominican Republic. In a lot of ways, I don’t know that I can answer this yet. Instead, I trust in seeing through the opportunities that have come my way. In the meantime, I continue to wrestle with these questions, and pray for the courage and wisdom to live my way into the answers.