Urban Challenge - Reflection/Summary

My trip to Camden and Philadelphia has opened my eyes to a world which I never really payed much attention to. I live in the suburbs of Rochester, a relatively peaceful area, six long hours away. I have everything I could ever ask for, and it would be quite easy to stay inside my little paradise of Penfield and enjoy what the world offers me. Yet, I also know that there are many people less fortunate than me, and I would feel guilty if I did not take the time to explore the world of our suffering brothers and sisters. What I discovered has helped me to create a more accurate picture of our world, one in which wealth coexists with poverty, peace coexists with violence, and progress coexists with depression.

I also learned many valuable lessons.

I once thought that small acts of kindness and generosity could not make a difference. After all, will our trip to Camden really change the complexion of the city? Probably not. But Mother Teresa had this to say: "We cannot do great things, only small things with great love." I took this quote to heart, and as I traveled to the work sites, I made it my goal to make just one person feel that I truly cared about them. And I did. I made people smile, I gave them my company, I gave them food, I gave them love. And to those people it made a difference, and that was all that really mattered.

I also discovered the flaws in the attitudes of people like me who have it all. We are consumed by wasteful materialism. I want more money, not because I need it to support a striving, poor family, but because I want to buy foolish goods that I don't really need. After listening to the stories of the less fortunate, I have realized that it doesn't matter whether or not you have a big house, or an HD television, or a fancy car; what does matter is whether or not you have the basic needs of food, shelter, and love that we take for granted so often.

There is a common stereotype that the poor and unfortunate are lazy and unmotivated. Many of us believe that they are leeches to our society, as they feed off of welfare without trying to improve their lives and get a job. While such thoughts still linger in my mind, the harshness and bitterness that I previously held has disappeared. I sympathize with the poor and unfortunate after witnessing their wretched state first-hand.

This issue also challenged my political beliefs. My family is mostly conservative, yet many of the people I met were liberal, and they supported the welfare programs and reforms that are geared toward the lower classes. Part of me wants to side with the less fortunate, contradicting my conservative views.

I will end my reflection with one last affirmation. Oscar Romero once said: "So you say you love the poor...Name them." Well, now I have responded to this challenge. I have met the sick, the poor, the lonely, the hungry, and the less fortunate. I now know their names, and I have listened to their stories. I have gained insight that has helped me open up the gates to a world that I had previously tried to ignore. But, what is more, I have realized that we cannot ignore the world of the less fortunate, because it lies in our own backyard, and thus we all have the obligation to fix it.

But fixing the world of the impoverished will not be easy. It is a journey that will require determination and considerable effort. At times like now, in which the world is filled with violence, oppression, and hate, it may seem like the final destination is unattainable. Yet, it is said that "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." This week, we have bravely taken that first step.

Urban Challenge -- DAY 5

Prior to today, the true value of a good meal has remained hidden from me. At home I don't think about where my next meal is coming from, and I am always surrounded by delicious food. But today I entered a whole new world, one in which people struggle to find food, a blessing which I so often take for granted.

This entirely different world was the St. John's Hospice in Philadelphia. While the hospice is the temporary home of 52 residents trying to escape poverty and improve their lives, it is also a soup kitchen which serves lunch to homeless people who walk in from the streets. I worked in this soup kitchen as a sort of bus boy, refilling water and taking away empty trays. In about an hour and ten minutes, I saw over 290 hungry, homeless men be fed in a small cafeteria no bigger than the size of our garage.

In addition to serving as a bus boy, I also played the piano. Although notes would have helped, I played "Claire de Lune" and hymns I found in a hymnal for about 15 minutes. At one point, a homeless man came up to me and said that he was familiar with the tune, and he asked me to play it for him again. He really appreciated my playing and my company.

That was one thing that was evident in the personalities of the homeless - they were all very appreciative and thankful for our presence and help. One man asked to me to hold his bag for him, and he kept saying to me, "God Bless you son, thank you, thank you" with sincere gratitude.

One man whose spirit was especially uplifting was a worker who helped out in the soup kitchen. He had a Carolina Panthers cap on and long dread locks. The first time I encountered him was when I started playing the piano. I told him that I didn't have my notes with me, but he responded by saying something like, "it doesn't matter what you play or how good you play it...it doesn't matter what we think of it, as long as you know that God is listening, and God will always like it." He seemed to be very religious, as he spoke of God very frequently. Later, when a homeless man played hymns on the piano, this worker would sing and praise the Lord from the bottom of his heart. Soon a group had gathered around to join in the praise.

This was probably one of the most memorable and inspirational moments of my trip. I found it unbelievable that such poverty-stricken men, victims of hard times and bad luck, were still able to retain their faith in God. These people can look at their problems and their miserable situation and they can turn their backs on God, blaming Him for their poverty. But instead, their faith grows stronger, because they realize that they need God in order to survive and because they know that giving up on God would mean giving up any hope for progress or improvement. Immense courage is required for standing up against the challenges of poverty, and such courage was found in these admirable, faith-filled men.

After serving the homeless of Philadelphia with food and with companionship, we returned back to the Romero Center for one last reflection. Shades were closed, candles were lit, and we received wooden crosses.

For dinner we had a barbecue with young parishioners from St. Joesph's Church, located right next to the Romero Center. Afterwards, I talked for a long time with Tyler Hall, a senior at Loyola Blakefield whose service, ambitions, and leadership was very commendable.

As the day began to draw to a close, I met an eight year old boy named Nathan who belonged to St. Joseph's Church. He was a big Phillies, Eagles, and Flyers fan just like me. We played catch for a while, and he told me about his family and his adventures. Although he had two sisters, he said he had no brother, and I felt like my presence and my intent listening to his long stories helped to create a sense of brotherhood between us.

Our week of service has ended. As I go to bed with a roof over my head, I think of all those homeless men and where they are sleeping tonight.

Tomorrow we drive back home to share our stories and to reveal this world of poverty that is too often sheltered from our eyes.

Urban Challenge -- DAY 4

Getting up at 7am, washing up, eating a quick breakfast, and preparing lunch has now become pretty routine. Our ride to the Inglis House, however, took almost an hour, as we got trapped in some heavy Philly traffic.

The Inglis House is a center for people who are confined to wheelchairs, and for patients who are in rehab in wheelchairs. The first activity we participated in was a "Spice" group discussion about the 80's. We helped transport the residents to the activity.

During the day we also handed out mail and had conversations with the residents. Apparently, one man had been named "Father of the Year" by some organization; I thought to myself, why would such a great father and family member be sent to live in a nursing home? I found it ironic that this great father would be sent away from his own home where he was so appreciated.

Another thing that I found sad was all the memories that the residents recalled during the "Spice" game. They said things like, "oh, I used to work there" and "I remember that movie" as they talked about the good times they shared before they were handicapped.

One interesting character that we encountered was Ramona. She had a bad temper and was constantly swearing. Although it was apparent that others were tired of her, we found it quite comical, and Ramona enjoyed to see us smile in her company.

When we left the Inglis House and arrived back at the Romero Center, we quickly departed again for Philadelphia. Instead of going to the nice stores and restaurants on South Street, we went to a thrift store owned by Mr. Felton. Mr. Felton led is into a small makeshift chapel in the back of his store which served as our meeting place. He told us his story; he was a Vietnam War Veteran, a preacher, a gardener, and most importantly, a shepherd to the many children who roam the streets. Mr. Felton acts as a sort of foster parent, giving food, shelter, and clothing to any child that may show up at his door. He also herds children in from the streets; one time he saw a cold, shivering girl waiting outside a store, and it just so happened that her mother was doing business with the drug lord inside. Mr. Felton, or "Papa" as the the kids call him, took her to his home. He has saved many children from the dangers of drugs and poverty.

"Papa" also is a firm believer in Christ, and he tries to spread the message of God to his children throughout Camden and Philadelphia. Mr. Felton is saving the community one child at a time.

Mr. Felton is truly an inspiration to me. He is not afraid to stand up for what he believes is right, even if that means putting his life in danger. He has been stabbed, and shot, and his weak heart condition makes him especially vulnerable. I can only hope and pray for his safety and security, as he continues to reach out to the youth. I think his vitality and success has partly been sustained by his optimistic, comic personality, which has triggered his unrelenting love.

When we got back to the Romero Center, we had a great Spanish meal for dinner: honey crusted chicken with olives/egg potato salad and Spanish rice. But the meal had its price - we washed, scrubbed, and cleaned all the dishes for an hour afterwards.

Another great speaker followed dinner. He was a worker at the local soup kitchen who gave up his career to work with the homeless on the street. Tomorrow, I will have the opportunity to follow his path, as I travel to St. John's Hospice, another soup kitchen. This entire week I have encountered the sick, the disabled, and the old, but Camden is known for its poverty, and I will finally get a chance to meet those people who are perhaps the most unfortunate of all - those who live on the streets. On top of being homeless, they also lack support; many are not loved or respected, but by simply serving them a hot meal, I can help them restore their dignity.

Urban Challenge -- DAY 3

Today for service I ventured to a garden in Waterfront South, a certain district of Camden. The garden was shared and worked by the local residents in the community, and it was directed by the Heart of Camden (a service group that also refurbishes vacant and run-down houses). The garden had vegetables, a greenhouse (which was mostly empty), a bike which, when pedaled, pumped rain water through a hose, and hundreds of flowers that were donated by a nursery and which we arranged when we first arrived. A skinny cat also snooped around.


For the majority of the day we pulled weeds - kneeling in the soft dirt with our backs against the scorching sun. I found it difficult to imagine the impact that this small, not very well maintained garden could have on the Waterfront South community. I'm sure that not everyone relishes the idea of spending time in a garden; after all, the neighbors are city people, and many hours of sweat and labor must be sacrificed, time that could be spent working or at home taking care of the family.

But I also think that just as Abigail Center offers solace to its residents, the garden serves as a source of nourishment to its neighbors. Not only does it provide physical nourishment through its vegetables, it also is a haven for people who want to get away from the stress and strain of the bustling city life. Although it may seem like difficult, dirty, and unpleasant work for us, others many be comforted by the green paradise. A thriving garden is found in a neighborhood dominated by bricks and pavement.

After we finished working, we went to a lemonade stand situated across the street from the garden. The girls who were serving us also had a small dog with them. I found this odd because I always figured that people in poor, urban cities did not have either the time or the money to have any pet, especially a dog.

The other things that struck me was that the girls were separated from their house by rails which surrounded the porch. I had noticed such structures before on other houses in Camden. The thick bars made the house look almost like a prison, and I began to sympathize with the children who seemed to live, trapped, behind the rails. In fact, having this lemonade stand was probably one of the few times that they would be allowed outside.

Yet, I also realized that these girls are lucky; they have a family, a home, and a dog, and they probably saw the iron rails as protection rather than confinement. I guess the standards by which we live differ greatly.

Later this afternoon we traveled into Philadelphia. We spent some time browsing in the shops on South Street. For dinner we ate at Jim's Steaks, famous for its cheese steak sandwiches, so famous that the likes of Kobe Bryant have eaten there. I had a steak sandwich with cheese, onions, peppers, and pizza sauce. It was great!

More card games and another shower tonight. I've got to go and get some sleep.

Urban Challenge -- DAY 2

Today I woke up at 7am. As I walked down the stairs I dreadfully remembered that today we were to live off of the food that we purchased with our welfare cash. For breakfast, I improvised a shoddy meal of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and water. As I looked further into the day, I realized that our diet lacked the protein, vitamins, and other minerals that are essential for good health. Thousands of mothers in Camden deal with this problem every day, and I began to sympathize with this harsh but true situation. Such dietary problems exist all around the world, as over 30,000 men, women, and children die from food-related illnesses each day.

With a no longer empty, and, therefore, satisfied stomach, we proceeded to the Abigail nursing home just a short drive away. This center cares for a wide variety of patients, including those who are mentally or physically disabled. Both fulltime residents and short-term rehab patients stay at the center.

The first person we met at Abigail's was Sam, a very outgoing and independent resident. He had lost control of his right hand and his speaking abilities were impaired as a result of an accident (?) a few years ago. However, his determination and will to continue a relatively normal and productive life were incredibly inspiring; he wanted to live with purpose rather than remain stagnant. A particular accomplishment of which he was very proud of was a bird house he had made out of yarn for his sister Robin.

The second person we met was Jesse, a former pastor who had recently turned 89 years old. Playing the piano was his passion, and throughout the morning he played many hymns and songs for us. He got especially emotional when he played a certain hymn without the notes, purely by memory. When he had finished, he started crying. It was at this time that he recalled a meaningful childhood story. He told us that when he had learned to play the piano, he had asked God that if he was to one day lose his sight, he wished that he could still be able to play the piano. Thus, when he closed his eyes and successfully played a hymn by heart, he was witnessing the manifestation of God's answer to his prayers long ago.

Later that morning we served coffee and tea in the dining room. I got lucky because Sports Center was on TV, and I was able to see the highlights of Home Run Derby which on was the previous night. But I also noticed a man named Fergie and his girlfriend talking at the table. The lady had recently lost her husband, and because her memory was impaired, she thought that Fergie was her spouse. I soon found out that Fergie was already arranging a mock wedding for the future. This was indeed an interesting story.

At lunchtime we served meals to those residents who remained in their rooms. I had an awkward moment when an elderly man asked me to put on his shoe which had fallen off. It was a difficult task, as the foot would not fit in the shoe. Yet at the same time I sympathized with the man, who was confined to a wheelchair, and I realized that this one small act of charity could greatly help him in his current state of helplessness.

In the dining room I also spent some time playing the game Trouble with two residents. They greatly enjoyed our company, and they enjoyed listening to our stories.

As we left the Abigail center, the thing that struck me the most was the purpose that the center served its residents. Amidst the the violence and danger of the surrounding areas, here was a haven for many individuals, privileged by the standards of Camden. While I never would want to end up in a nursing home, I understand that people like Jessie, Fergie, and Sam have backgrounds that are very different than mine, and the Abigail Center may just be the solace that such people are seeking.

After we arrived back at the Romero Center, we listened to two different guest presentations: first, a sister from Ukraine (Eastern Rite, like me) talked about communism and injustice; then we listened to the founder of a local soup kitchen and his son (both had Jesuit backgrounds) talk about the importance and role of Christian service. It's just the inspiration I need as I prepare myself to tackle tomorrow's challenges.

Boy, this day's journal entry took a long time to write. By now I am a little hungry, but not starving, and I take pleasure in knowing that I have survived another day in Camden, one of the most dangerous cities in America!

Urban Challenge -- DAY 1

When I woke at 4:30am this morning in Rochester, NY, I did not expect to be walking the streets of Camden just a few hours later. Yet there I was, nervously walking next to my friends and chaperones, trying to walk as close as possible to the middle of the sidewalk, so as to avoid contact with the residents sitting on their fenced-up porches or the motorists racing down the road.

But a group of young white boys from two different Jesuit schools, McQuaid Jesuit in Rochester, NY and Loyola Blakefield in Baltimore, Maryland, is a strange sight that is difficult to ignore. We certainly attracted attention from bums, who sat in the nearby shade, seeking shelter on a humid summer day. They asked us where we were from and what we were doing, expressing genuine curiosity. While I was hesitant to make any direct communication with these people, other students offered brief but polite responses; our frankness was truly a product of our unease, as we slowly attempted to adjust to the unfamiliar environment of Camden.



What were we doing on the sidewalks of the nations most poor, more violent, most crime-ridden city? We were on our way to the grocery store. Before departing from the Oscar Romero center, we were divided into groups of four, or "families", and our task was to shop for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next day. However, many residents of Camden rely on welfare checks for food, which amounts to merely 3 dollars per person per day. Thus, our "family" had 12 dollars to spend on 3 meals for 4 hungry men.

After browsing aisles for cheap deals and savings, we ended up with this: orange juice, bread, beans, ramon noodles, peanut butter, jelly, and macaroni and cheese. Not exactly the ideal menu for tomorrow.

Well, by now it's getting late and sleep is starting to overcome me. Meanwhile, I deal with living conditions that are quite different from what I am accustomed to. In the city around me, fifty percent of the people are illiterate. Almost twenty percent of the homes are abandoned. There are over two hundred drug corners and three thousand drug dealers. And many families live on just twelve dollars each day. Despite such drab conditions, I am already accomplishing what I came here to do - go beyond my comfort zone. Whether that means going to bed listening for gunshots (a reality that is all too real for so many people) or walking outside in the streets (which are, by the way, littered with glass, trash, and weeds), I am stepping into a whole new world, one that is not as great as my paradise in the suburbs back home, but one that I am nevertheless determined to change through Christian service with my fellow knights and dons.