Inaudible Voices

mornings at the shelter

2009-08-24T07:31:00.003-04:00

saturday and sunday mornings at the homeless shelter have a surreal feeling of camp. sleepy people walking around catching up with others coming and going. pockets of people asleep, or annoyed by others waking them up too early. others looking through bags for a change of clothes. the air is quiet and cool. the spirit holds the freshness of a new day.

the similarities end quickly as the conversations become more audible, '... no man, it started raining so i had to sleep under the bridge.' 'two guys jumped me last night down by transit...' watching them interact, move through morning routines, you realize how easily it could be you there... Elijah used to be a bus driver. Mike a cop. Claire drove carpool and volunteered at the hospital. One of my classmates from high school walks by and and tells me he found another classmate on facebook... i wonder what he tells them he is doing now. Whatever he says i am sure it doesn't include sleeping at the train station and grabbing lunch everyday at the soup kitchen.

lunch begins and people file through the line. for the most part, everyone is courteous... inevitably they part by saying, 'god bless.' i could question this god they are speaking of, i could pull out all kinds of philosophical ideas and arguments; instead i decide to sit in the moment. to realize that in that second, none of the other stuff matters. the fact that they are going outside to survive on the street and i will be getting in my car to go home makes no difference because in that moment we both are merely human.

there needs to be more moments just like that one...

August 24, 1911

2008-08-23T20:36:00.005-04:00

Tomorrow, 98 years ago, a great woman was born. Over the course of her life she continually pushed the envelop and thought outside the box. She stood up and against the voices around her and lived life the way she felt she should. She instilled these principles in her two daughters, six grandchildren and ten great-grandchildren, whom had the privilege to share time with her while she was here, as well as many others who crossed her path... and as we move through our lives, her legacy continues to grows.

It hasn't yet been a year since my Gran passed away. Any other year, my August 24th, would begin with a phone call. I would say, "Happy Birthday, Gran!" and she would follow with, "Well, Penny, I'm so glad to hear your voice. Can you believe I'm ____?" And to be honest, I never could. I always had the opinion that my Gran was invincible and somehow possessed the secret to eternal youth. At 90 years old she was driving the streets of Charlotte, complaining about all the "elderly" drivers. She was chasing me around the house, or scaling step-stools to save me from a spider or anything else! Her family was her priority. She was always there whenever we needed anything... one of the reasons she is so missed today. Still, whenever I am having a hard time or just wanting to smile, my hand goes to the phone to call her. She had an amazing ability to find laughter in all things and bring a smile no matter what the situation.

I have been told, on their birthday's, you celebrate the life of those you've lost. This is her first birthday since she's been gone and I can't yet figure out a way to celebrate and it be enough. There are many things to treasure and many things to remember... I could sit for hours and just tell stories about my Gran. I could tell you the many stories she told me, she was an amazing story teller, or I could tell you my own. Either way, you would walk away feeling different. Lighter. More Intentional. Amazed at the power of one woman... she IS that wonderful.

Until I find the right way, tomorrow will just have to be a celebration of my Gran like any other day: Living my life the way she showed me. I can't dial that number and hear her voice through the phone, but I can hear her within me and as long as I have that I'm sure I'll be okay.

For the time being.

2008-07-12T09:40:00.002-04:00

I know, it's been awhile. Honestly, I constantly think about things I'd like to write here... but just don't seem to make the time. I will do better, but for the time being, here is a quote I found a few months ago that continues to speak to me...

"Let us consistently choose the single goal of peace rather than multiple goals that lead to conflict. Let us continue to practice forgiveness and to see each other and ourselves as blameless. Let us look longly upon the present, for it holds only knowledge that is forever true. Let us continue to be involved in a process of personal transformation in which we are only concerned about giving and not about getting.

Let us recognize that we are united as one self and illuminate the world with the light of Love that shines through us. Let us awaken to the knowledge that the essence of our being is Love, and, as such, we are the light of the world."

Climbed a Mountain Today...

2008-03-23T19:05:00.007-04:00

I have a lot to say right now but not really sure how to say it...or maybe just not sure where to start. I guess it doesn't really matter where I start, it will probably all come out scrambled and random anyway. Besides, the timeline, time itself, doesn't really matter or mean anything. As a young, and wise beyond her years, friend once said, "...there is no time. People just made it up to keep up with everything." Let's talk about what else doesn't really exist. Maybe its easier to talk about what does exist: Love. Love is the only reality.

I climbed a mountain today. I sat at the top of the peak and took it all in...not just the air, trees, birds and dirt that surrounded me, (as well as the dirt that covered me from a fun little fall, but that's a different story) but also all that I have found myself in up until that point. I found myself asking, 'How did I get here?' Meaning how did I get here in my life...what has brought me to this point and what am I going to do with it? The truth is that lately I have been mostly focusing on what I didn't have...or what wasn't happening and what other people were doing rather than what I was doing and creating for myself. Everything that was happening and being done and focused on was continuing (am I being vague enough for you...sorry that's just how it's going to be right now) because that is what I was giving the power. As soon as I became aware of that...well, I've been aware of it, but as soon as I admitted it and accepted it then so much became clear. I even started laughing out loud on my little perch on top of Crowder's Mountain. I let that realization fall over me and then started taking inventory of my thoughts and checking them against THE reality and a peace just fell over me. I am sure the couple on the next little perch, watching all of this unfold, and listening to me laugh at seemingly nothing, saw the clouds part allowing the sun to shine right on me as the birds flew away from the power of my consciousness. Its amazing what being at peace with who you are and where you are can do!

Once again, I am not going to go into too much detail...that's really only important for me, but as I was walking down the trail I made a promise with myself to stay in the reality of Love. To be aware of my thoughts, where they are coming from and why. To let my life be a meditation of love and to step out and lead with my heart. To live in gratitude. To focus not on fear in myself or others, but on Love. You create your own reality... what you put out there reflects right back to you. Give Love to everything and everyone around you, and you, in turn, receive love...because we are all connected! I could keep going, and maybe I will later but the coffee shop is about to close and I should probably go wash the dirt and mud off my face and out of my ears from the before mentioned fall! Today is Easter...a Pagan holiday. It's a day that means different things for different people. Many, in these parts, celebrate it as the resurrection of a man...for me it symbolizes a resurrection too...not of a man, but of my own consciousness...

Homeless Youth Awareness Week

2008-03-20T19:00:00.005-04:00

I have been trying to get involved with homeless work here in Charlotte. Through the course of emails and phone calls I have finally found a hand-full of organizations that work with runaway and homeless youth in Charlotte. Tonight one of the shelters, The Relatives, had an open house in connection with it being Homeless Youth Awareness Week. As I was standing there listening to the different board members speak a young boy standing in the corner caught my eye. I glanced in his direction and realized he was looking right at me. I looked again and realized he was one of the students at the school where I teach. About that time the speaker started running through some statistics, one being that 2600 of the students in the Charlotte-Mecklenburg school system are homeless. I was afraid that the young boy would be ashamed of being there and not want to talk to me. Luckily I was wrong. After the last speaker gave their spiel he came over and talked with me for a few minutes. I would have never known he was one of the 2600... Here are just a few other statistics:

- The National Coalition for Homelessness says that over 1.35 million children are homeless on any given night.

- 42% of those homeless children are under the age of five.

- 12 - 17 year olds are more likely to become homeless than adults.

The Relatives, Stand-Up for Kids, Safe Place and Alexander Youth Network are all organizations that work with this population of youth. They are constantly looking for volunteers and donations...I encourage you to check them out and see if there is a way that you can help!

August 24, 1911 - December 7, 2007

2007-12-08T08:25:00.000-05:00

I knew that there would come a day when I would have to write this but now that its here it seems so surreal. My grandmother passed away yesterday. Saying that...writing that sounds strange. Saying that means that she is no longer in this world and that seems impossible. I could write about the past month...of being in hospitals and nursing facilities. I could write about watching her spirit slip away, about coming to the realization that my Gran wasn't coming back to me. I could write about the frustrations and pain that come with a slow death. I could write about all those things. I could, but I won't. Instead I want to write about some of the things that made Hollis Davis MY Gran.

No one else calls her Gran. Just me. In fact, it started as Granny. A sort of game that I played with her. She was anything but a "Granny". No matter where she went or what she did, she did it with grace and a perpetual youth. I would call her Granny and she would make a playful face as if it was breaking her soul to be called such a thing. Over time it got shortened to Gran and stuck. No matter the day or time I could call and the minute she heard me say, "Hey Gran!" She knew it was me.

There was a constant playfulness about her...she taught me how to play and to always find time to play. There was nothing so serious that you couldn't find the laughter in it...and we must always laugh to survive. The majority of my memories of her involve laughing. She would pick me up from school many days and we would go to Wendy's for a treat. One day we sat in the corner booth and laughed and laughed over anything and everything. Whenever she laughed really hard she would always squint her eyes and lean back, holding her stomach...

Gosh, the memories...her chasing my brother and me around the house. Her following me in her car the first time I rode my bike to the pool. Her making collard greens in an old pressure cooker. Sitting by the pool in a big straw hat and sunglasses. Shopping at South Park and eating lunch at the food court. Wearing my jeans and sweatshirt. Trying to get me to wear a dress. Holding my hand in church. Seeing her car outside the school window...waiting to pick me up. Diet coke. Oatmeal cookies. Wrigley's Double Mint gum. Christmas mornings in her robe and coffee. Telling stories from her childhood. Waking up early together. Her expressions and sayings. Cinnamon toast.

There are so many memories. I could go on for hours and pages. My childhood revolves around her. I have a great parents who have taught me amazing things...but if there is anything good or special about me it's because of my Gran. When people pass away you hear those they were close to say things like, "I feel like a part of them is with me." I have always felt like a part of my Gran was with me...I like to think now that she's gone...all those parts I couldn't have before, her essence, is now with me too!

I have a book that I find myself reading over and over again. There is a passage towards the end that talks about the fact that as long as we remember those that have gone they remain alive. Our talking about them and remembering them...our living in their memory keeps them very much alive. I first read that in an English class in college and was drawn to it instantly...never really understanding why until now...

happy holidays?

2007-12-01T09:25:00.000-05:00

early this morning i had to make a quick run to the grocery store. i went in, got my cereal and milk, and was through checking out when the cashier said, "merry christmas! only 24 more days! happy holidays!" i guess today is december first. there are christmas decorations everywhere and holiday music on the radio and everywhere else but still...it doesn't feel like christmas this year. i guess i thought everyone was feeling that way until this morning when patrice at the harris teeter decided to flower me with her holiday energy. the truth is i don't want it to be christmas just yet. this is my first christmas back in the states after being in hungary...while i was in hungary i would cling to all those wonderful christmas memories, all of which, in one way or another, contain my gran! i can't think of a christmas when she wasn't there...so many memories. usually i would sleep with her on christmas eve. we would go to bed early because i was so excited for christmas to come. the next morning i would wake up early and she would be right there beside me, just as excited to experience christmas together as i was. i can remember her sitting on the couch, usually the same seat every year, in her pink robe and cup of coffee watching us open presents with such joy. she would usually come over to the house a day or two before christmas. i would run out to her grey oldsmobile and just stare at all the gifts. she loved to give gifts. there are so many memories. singing christmas music together. listening for reindeer at night on christmas eve. laughing because she couldn't remember what she got us once it was wrapped. sitting together and looking at the tree. so many memories. so many great memories. THAT is what christmas is to me.

the last few weeks we have all had to face that my gran is in her last days. a reality that seems impossible on its own...factor in christmas and its too much. the memories that are being made right now aren't ones that i ever want to associate with christmas...especially with my memories of her at christmas and so i have pushed away christmas this year. i can't do it. at first it was unconscious but once i clued into my resistance i realized that it was what i needed!

THIS just isn't christmas...

unexpected innocence

2007-11-28T17:42:00.000-05:00

my lesson today in class was geared around the lion king. this whole unit has been based on changes in the world around us, as well as in our own 'worlds'. i was showing different clips from the movie to generate discussion about change and making decisions. to be honest i just assumed that all my students would have already seen the film so it would be an easy tie-in...i didn't even hesitate to actually consider the individual students, which is out of the ordinary...i am usually overly sensitive. anyway, first period starts and i am asking questions about the film to get their minds in the right direction and my eyes fall on Nuch. (pronounced NEW-SH) Nuch has only been in my class for a few weeks. she and her father have just arrived in the united states from liberia. all of my students are english language learners, and even though liberia is an english speaking country it is far from the english we speak here...so i get to have Nuch in my class. as i was talking and looking at Nuch i realized that she had probably never seen this film. she hadn't experienced so many things we take for granted, let alone disney movies. i asked her if she had seen it and she said no, so i had the students give her a basic setup so she wouldn't be lost in the clips. they explained and then i began the first clip, which was the opening scene of the movie. i remember seeing lion king for the first time in the theatre and being blown away by the energy in the music. my students were all too young to have experienced it in the theatre but they still knew what to expect...but not Nuch. the music started...an african song...africa...a whole different level for Nuch. her eyes lit up and she was instantly hooked. (remember this is 6th grade...Nuch is probably about 12 years old) i stopped the first scene and it was like she was snapping out of a trance. she loved it. we talked for a few minutes and then i started the second scene...where simba is in the stampede and mufasa comes after him...eventually dying. Nuch's eyes were wide and her hand covered her mouth. i watched her rather than the movie...her reactions were so innocent and sweet. she was getting to be a child, not a refugee from a country where children her age were soldiers in civil war. i watched her and heard the reactions from the other students. i stopped it once again...the energy in the conversation pulsed through the room. the third scene, timon and pumba...hakuna matata...laughter throughout the room...giggles...singing along. Nuch still engrossed. this went on throughout the whole lesson. it was so refreshing for me to see the innocense in these kids. to see them be kids! just yesterday i was breaking up a fight between two kids in opposing gangs...the day before we expelled three kids for various offenses...but today...today they were kids...innocent children...exactly as they should be!

turkey trot

2007-11-22T16:17:00.001-05:00

My Thanksgiving looked a little different this year than years in the past. With family away for the holiday I found myself on my own and so I decided to run in the Charlotte Turkey Trot. There were three races, a one mile fun-run (yes that's an oxymoron), a 5k and an 8k. Seeing as how I wouldn't have to do anything else for the rest of the day I signed up for the 8k...that's 5 miles! I have never run that far at one time and standing at the starting line I got real nervous and kinda confused why I was there at all...nonetheless the shot was fired and off I went. 42 minutes and 53 seconds later I crossed the finish line! I was really impressed at how good it felt...the run itself and the accomplishment. I'll have to check and see if there is a Reindeer Run or Santa Scoot or something for Christmas...in the mean time, I'm basking in the glory of my run by eating anything and everything within reach of my permanent seat on the couch!

all too quickly

2007-11-04T22:12:00.000-05:00

i'm so disappointed in myself. i've been back in the states for about three months. three months and i'm already forgetting. i walked onto that plane when i left hungary and pledged to never forget. i'm forgetting. it's starting to get cold. when the temperatures began dropping i realized that my heat wasn't working. after poking around and making a few phone calls i found the issue and also found out that it wouldn't be solved for a week or two. let the pity party begin! i walked around wrapped in clothes and blankets complaining that i was cold and would stay that way for two whole weeks. as i was sitting around with my friends at restaurants or talking on the phone while driving down the road in my new car, i found ways to drop in that my heat was out and would stay that way...for many, many more days.

my second year in hungary i went to visit one of my student's home's. (for three years i worked with the romany gypsies...the roma face constant discrimination and poverty. there is more to say if you want to hear...just ask...please ask!) it was winter. a hungarian winter where the cold soaks into your bones in novemeber and stays until march. it was the christmas holiday and we (a colleague and i) had been invited for the night. the house was a nice one, as roma houses go. there was a door that opened and closed and most all the windows had glass...the others had plastic tacked to the wood and cement frames of the house. the cement concoction that made up a bulk of the house seemed like a good idea when you are thinking about strength...and possibly even when considering a desire to stay cool in the summer but in the winter it is nothing more than an enemy. the cold air stays, hides...freezes within the walls. as we walked in from the outside it felt as if we were pushing into the cold. there was electricity but only enough money for one light bulb throughout the whole area. the darkness only added to the cold. partly out of courtesy and the rest out of a desire to stay warm, we offered to help in anyway possible. we had to insist, as the guests were expected to do nothing. i was allowed to walk down the dirt road, littered with trash, mud and stray animals, to fetch water for the evening. my student went with me, both of us carrying a large metal bucket. i was bundled in a sweater, jeans, long underwear, scarf, gloves and a coat. my student: some pants, a long sleeve shirt and a coat that was at least one size too small. it was an hour before we got back. by that time i was ready to visit the facilities. you learn how to ask questions in a tactical way and i simply asked, "is there a bathroom?" i was quickly told no, but there was an outhouse between their house and the neighbors'...

beginning to get the picture? here i am suffering through two weeks without heat and that is their everyday reality. i'm forgetting and it sickens me. despite the cold of that house there was a warmth within the home. i remember being captured by that that very night. the roma have this amazing ability to find joy where you think there should be none. that was just one of the many things about the roma that captured me over those three years. one of the many things i pledged i wouldn't forget...i just hope its the last one that i actually do.

reunion

2007-11-04T22:05:00.000-05:00

last weekend was our 3rd annual family get together. it was my first time to get to join in on the fun. we rented a house up at lake lure, nc...went horseback riding, played on the lake, made smores and just enjoyed being together! here is a picture of the whole famn damily...yes, those are matching shirts!

paying the bills

2007-11-04T21:57:00.000-05:00

for those that i haven't been able to get up with since coming back i wanted to give a quick update. after searching anywhere and everywhere for a job i was finally offered a teaching job in charlotte, nc. this is the first time i have been back in my hometown since high school. its strange...and nice. i am teaching 6th grade language arts at an inner city middle school. all of my students are considered english language learners. they are a mixture or refugees, immigrant families and other wonderful newcomers to the states. i am amazed at how this job is the perfect next step after being at gandhi high school. i love being here!