Final Thoughts?

I've been home almost a week now, and all of you know that, but I was reading back through my journal today and found an experience from Washington that I wanted to share.

A few weeks ago I had a very hard morning--some personal problems in the apartment along with difficulties with someone I love very much. Quoting from my journal:
"I had about 3 or 4 breakdowns at work this morning, just couldn't keep back the tears, so I had to go to the bathroom and let it all out.

I almost thought today that I should just leave, that I was being more of a hindrance than a help. But not only could I not bear the thought of being in that apartment, especially not alone, I needed to be with my kids, not only as a way to distract myself, but to receive of their love and give it back, in handfuls, in great sloshing buckets. The kids were especially playful and affectionate today, giving me lots of hugs. As we sat to read a story, Isaac leaned in my lap on the right, Ashley in my lap on the left, and Israel against my left side. I was so comforted and soothed by this. The story we were reading was about color, and how people are all different colors, chocolate-y and cinnamon-y and caramel, and as we were reading I was overwhelmed with love for my little mixed bunch of nuts. Ethiopian and Latino and Black and happy and sad and playful and energetic and careful, all of them, and then I really started to cry, realizing that my time is almost gone, and then they really wanted to know why I was crying, and Israel made the comment, 'My mom cries like that,' which only made me cry more."

When I finally left that classroom for the very last time, Jose called after me--"I'll miss you!" in his sweet way.
These kids, their hard lives ahead of them--I don't doubt that Israel's mom does cry like that, quietly and incomprehensibly for these little kids, whose tears are showy and clearly linked to events. Their lives need to be good--I will it to be so.
I wish I had updated this blog more. There is so much that I learned this summer. So you'll have to take my word for it, that I learned a lot. And you'l have to take my word for it that that love I experience from serving and from working hard brings the greatest joy I'll ever know.

Patriotism

This week we went to the National Archives and saw the original Declaration of Independence, Constitution, and Bill of Rights.
After I finish listening to Condoleeza Rice's autobiography, I am going to listen to David McCullough's 1776. One of my favorite things about being here is all the things I am realizing and learning.

I have long had a skeptical attitude toward the sort of patriotism that expresses itself as American supremism.
David Sedaris put it really well in his book Me Talk Pretty One Day when he said that "sometimes Americans forget that other countries have nationalistic slogans of their own, none of which are 'We're number two!'"
Yet as I've toured Mount Vernon, seen the national monuments, and looked at our ancient documents, I feel, in a deep place in me, that it is true that "the Spirit of the Lord was upon the Gentiles, and the Gentiles that had gone out of captivity were delivered by the power of God out of the hands of all other nations" (1 Ne 13:15, 19). (I like this video.)

You know, I said I was proud of America when I saw monuments and documents, but I've been proud even as I've walked the streets and seen the homeless and the uncaring, as I've followed politics and observed the out of touch and self-serving partisanship.

Why do I say this? Well, it's like this. America is a pretty cool place. We certainly have our mythology and our god-like heroes; yet somewhere underneath the mythology, the supermen, and the arrogance there really is a kickass brand-new idea called America, started by people who were sometimes strong and sometimes stupid, sometimes too partisan, sometimes just and righteous and sometimes greedy and selfserving--who were, in short, human. But I really think they believed in what they were doing. And what they did has become a phenomenon. This phenomenon is not unlike the people who started it: America sometimes does the right thing and sometimes does the stupid thing, sometimes we are generous and true to our ideals, and sometimes we fall preeeetty far.

So despite my reservations, I believe there is a way to believe in America. Not that we are better than everybody else; not that we are infallible. We have promises to keep, and many miles to go before we sleep.  But that what we have done here is completely unprecedented, and what we have done here is incredible. And I have a great hope that the "pieces" of the American dream "that are pure and true" will be the ultimate victors over poverty, ignorance, and greed. And most especially, I am grateful that I can be here in Washington D.C. putting in my little part to solve a sliver of our problems.