A Change of Plans

This summer I had the opportunity to travel to Le Puy, a small town in France where the Congregation of St. Joseph formed their first religious communities in 1650. Taller de José was founded by and continues to be sponsored by the Congregation, so the trip was an opportunity to connect with the long tradition that build the strong foundation upon which Taller is built. I learned far more than I can write in one post (at least, one that anyone would be willing to read), but one major "aha" moment I had while there was when I learned that the first sisters recognized that in order to best serve their community they had to have flexible schedules. Instead of adhering to strict patterns of prayer like many cloistered monasteries, the sisters recognized a need to be flexible and fluid, open to the neighbors in need knocking at any time of day.

Ah- ha.

If you know me well (okay, maybe even just a little) you know how much I love schedules (and sticking to them) and putting things on the calendar way in advance. If you ever witness me going with the flow or being flexible, it's probably because my calendar says: "2-5pm: Go with the flow."

But that flexibility is exactly what we need at Taller de José. We often lament that we can't even get everyone at a staff meeting because no matter when we schedule it, at least one client requests an accompaniment to court or a doctor's appointment that can't be rescheduled. And that's what we're here for, right? We are here to serve the dear neighbor whenever they come knocking, even— and especially—when they aren't on my calendar. These days, most of the clients I work with directly are walk-ins, hoping to be seen and heard even though they don't have an appointment. This flexibility is often tough for me, but visiting Le Puy helped me connect with the roots of the tradition in which Taller was founded; it helped me to take a deep breath and remember that serving our clients requires openness to changes in plans.

The famous Lennon quote says, "life is what happens when you're making other plans." How true. It was actually a change of plans that allowed me to stay at Taller de José (after my volunteer year) in the first place. Had I been accepted into the grad school program I was planning on attending, I wouldn't be at Taller today. And how grateful I am in retrospect for that change of plans!

And this training season, I'm learning that my training schedule has to be open to changes in plans too; among other things, European travel took precedence over completing a 14-mile run I had scheduled. It seems a little repetitive to be running the marathon again this year, but I'm continually drawn to it because I learn so much each time around. And the lessons I learn generally are about way more than just running. . I'm grateful that so far this year has been no different.

On Winning the Lottery (Again)

In summer 2013, I introduced my marathon training and fundraising by sharing: "After a fiasco of a registration process, I was lucky enough to "win" an entry to the 2013 Chicago Marathon; I just hope the next time I win a "lottery" it means that I've won money, not that I have to pay a large sum of money (and in order to run 26.2 miles, to boot!)." 

So now that I've "won" the Chicago Marathon lottery again in 2014, I'm not sure whether that makes me unlucky-- the only lotteries I've one require paying money to run absurd amounts of miles-- or lucky -- strangely enough, I actually enjoy running those miles enough to want to pay it!

I'm going with lucky. And I'll tell you why I'm feeling so grateful to be so lucky to be running the Chicago Marathon for Team Taller de José for the 3rd time in a row. 

1. I just really enjoy running! Yes, there are days when I I'm sore and tired and don't want to go to

See, I just really
enjoy running!

bed by 9pm so that I can get up before the sunrise the next day to run 3+ hours. But most often, I enjoy logging the miles, whether it be on Chicago's beautiful lakefront path (another thing I'm grateful for) or through the hills of the Tuscan countryside (more on that in another blog post!). I enjoy finding my pace, falling into a rhythm. I love filling the miles with conversations with my running buddy, with time to let my mind wander and think creatively, or with space to just let my mind be quiet-- a rarity in the busyness of life. 

2. Getting in via the lottery system gives me the opportunity to run on behalf of Taller de José, the non-profit where I have been working for the past three years. If you haven't hear me share about Taller de José yet, it is a unique community resource center located in Chicago's predominantly Latino community called Little Village. I say "unique" because we don't know of many other places that offer the service of accompaniment, in which we walk with individuals and families emotionally, spiritually, and physically to assist them in addressing any obstacles or difficulties they may be facing. Every day, I am in awe of the strength of the men and women who walk through our door, asking us to walk with them, and in awe of our staff (whom we call "compñeras") who respond to that call to accompany them. 

I'm so grateful for all the support and all the friends
who've joined Team Taller  for a full or half marathon.

3. Training for a marathon as part of a team enables me to be a part of a community of runners (into which I've recruited anyone I know with even a mild interest in running, and  this year my running buddy has joined the team too!). The ways in which we accompany one another as we work towards our common goal remind me of the importance of accompaniment. Accompaniment isn't just for the staff and clients at Taller de José; we all need a companion or two on our own journeys!

If you are curious to hear more about our current work at Taller, I invite you check back (or subscribe to get updates) over the next two months as I write about the mission, my experience of working there, and the connections I see between Taller de José and my marathon training. If you can't wait that long, you can visit Taller de José's website here or visit some of my posts from previous years (if you haven't been lucky enough to read them yet ;)). As always, thank you in advance for your prayers, encouragement, and support of Taller de José, and for humoring my efforts to make my life and work interesting to read about!

¡Muchísimas Gracias!

A full week after the marathon, I happy to say that I'm fully recovered and walking quite normally again! But even though the pain and soreness has faded, the overwhelming feelings of gratitude I've felt during the training, race, and recovery definitely haven't faded. Let me tell you, I am one lucky girl.

Team Taller de José with Taller's executive director, Sr. Kathy

Thanks to my wonderful supporters, I've raised a total of $2,146.20 in support of the ministry of Taller de José!! I was pretty nervous and worried about asking for donations a second year in a row, not because I doubted others' generosity but because I didn't want to be that person who's asking for money every time you see her. But my convictions about the work I'm a part of at Taller de José overrode my aversion to fundraising, and I am so grateful that the response was one of overwhelming support and generosity. (And I suppose that doesn't necessarily rule out me being that girl, but it's wonderful to know that so many people are willing to support our ministry even if they aren't thrilled about being asked for money!).

And thanks to my amazing family and friends, I had people I knew cheering me on at 11 different spots on

Having my running buddy as my "compañera"
 for the last 5 miles made a huge difference!

the course. That's incredible!! People have mentioned that in the photos* I look happier than any normal person should look in the middle of a 26 mile run, and I think that's a testament to the fact that seeing the people you love supporting and cheering you on can override all sorts of aches and pains and exhaustion. Trust me, those smiles always meant "I'm so excited to see you, thanks for being here," and never meant "whoo hoo! I have 20 more miles to go!" :) A special thank you goes out to my family and roommates who set a public transportation record by making it to SEVEN different spots on the course! And there were so many people who couldn't be there in person but were there in spirit through their prayers, notes of inspiration, and text messages on race day and the days leading up to it.

So I can't express enough how grateful I am to everyone who has accompanied me throughout this journey. I believe so strongly in the ministry of accompaniment because I know what a difference it has made to have so many wonderful companions in my own life. I finished the race in 4:52:40, which I was absolutely thrilled about -- it was over 30 minutes faster than last year's time-- but I didn't and couldn't have done it alone.

¡Muchísimas Gracias!

* If you haven't seen all the  photos yet, this here are some more photos my family took and some from the official marathon photographers

More than "Just Spectators"

This is it, folks— only 2 more training miles stand between me and the starting line at 8am Sunday morning! I am so overwhelmed by the support I've received throughout the process; your prayers, donations, words of encouragement, and presence have made it possible to complete the almost 500 training miles leading up to this point. I And I'm thrilled to report that I've received a total of $1,926.20 in donations so far!! I'm still hoping to raise another $73.80 for a total of $2,000 so if you were considering a donation it's not too late! (see the donation information on the right hand column of this blog).

Sometimes the best signs are the ones that make you
 laugh, even if they aren't exactly "encouraging" :)

I recently read a brief article in Runner's World about the role of spectators at a marathon, and the truth of it nearly made me tear up. I've shortened it a little here, but I thought it was worth sharing. For those of you who will be here in person, know that it means the world to me, and for those of you that will be there in spirit, know that I'll be thinking of you when I see the thousands of spectators cheering on me and my fellow runners. Thank you so much to all the "spectators" in my life!

An excerpt from "Standing Ovation" by Mark Remy:

In fact, the word spectator–from the Latin spectare, "to observe"–seems inadequate. It suggests passivity, and crowds who turn out for marathons are anything but passive. Marathon spectators shout. They clap. They play bagpipes and kettle drums. They rattle cowbells and scream your name, if they know it. If they don't, they latch onto any identifier–"Go, Team in Training!" "Go, Sparkly Skirt!" "Go, Runner's World!"They hold handmade signs that make you laugh. ("You Should Have Taken a Dump When You Had the Chance.")

I've been buoyed by people cheering by name for the guy next to me, and by "Go Mommy" and "Go Daddy" signs held up by someone else's kids. I call this "secondhand inspiration."

It's a cultural universal: Every year, untold millions of spectators materialize to urge runners on at marathons around the world.... I don't know when or where, exactly, turning out to watch other people run became a "thing."... But I'm glad it is. I can't imagine ever running 26.2 miles without the crowds. And yet it's easy to take them a little bit for granted.

...maybe it's because our own private "support crews" are so good at what they do. During months of training, they put up with our aches and pains; they watch us vanish for hours at a time to do our workouts and long runs; they listen to us blather on about mileage and nutrition and ice baths. They indulge us.

On race weekend, of course, they're the ones who kick into high gear just as we're downshifting to prepare for race day. They travel along with us, carrying our stuff and eating when, and where, we want. They soothe our nerves. They study course maps to plot out where they'll have the best chances of seeing us. They wonder whether, logistically, they can catch us at mile three and again at mile 11, and still make it to the finish in time, if they hustle. They stand, often in poor weather and often for an hour or more, staring at a sea of grimacing runners as they wait for their grimacing runner to appear. 

And when we do, they go nuts.

They do all of this for us.

Not only that, but they do it with humility. How many times have you heard a runner's spouse or partner at a race say that he or she is "just here to watch"?  

Just!  

The tragedy in Boston spawned several social-media memes. One was the notion that, in the face of this horror, "We are all runners." It's a fine sentiment, but I'd tweak it just slightly. On April 15, in the space of 13 awful seconds, we all became spectators. (Even those of us who are, in fact, runners.) As events unfolded, we sat and watched. But we rallied, quickly and loudly. We came together to voice support, to assure the victims–and each other–that we're strong and we'll get through this. 

If that doesn't say "spectator," I don't know what does. 

Noticing the Sunrise

I was crabby. I had to be at the office by 7:30am for an accompaniment that I knew could last me 4+ hours, and I had a to-do list a page long. A part of me was questioning whether the client really "needed" me there or if it was going to be a waste of time. And to top it off, we had to walk to the bus stop in the rain. Needless to say, it was not my best morning.

But, then, throughout the course of the 5-hour accompaniment, my client and her beautiful 3-month-old baby began transforming my heart. Transforming it from a heart that was closed-off and so focused on the ever-present to-do list that it didn't have time to see or care about the people in front of it to a heart that had time and space to sit and listen to someone else's story and hopes, time to make the to-do list less of a priority.

And perhaps my client could have navigated the public transportation, the 11 elevator rides at the Daley Center, and the language barriers during the interactions with the courthouse clerks and judge, all while navigating the Daley Center with a 3-month-old in a baby carrier. She is a very capable woman, after all. But the bottom line is that I believe she really appreciated my presence, both for the practical assistance I was able to provide in navigating a complex legal process (including the extra set of hands to help with the baby) and for the companionship throughout the day. We discussed her joys and struggles raising her three children alone, her family back home, questions about where she could take English classes, and her hopes and fears for the future. I fed her son and rocked him to sleep, and was touched by her trust when she asked me to watch him while she meet with the legal aid organization that was assisting her.

Thanks to our interaction, she is now one step closer to resolving her legal issue, and I was reminded to look up from my to-do list to really see the individual clients with whom I have the blessing to interact. It's not unlike the ways I have to remind myself to look up from the pavement to see the sunrise on my early morning runs that often feel like a drudgery. And just like the sunrise, I think the reminder was well worth rolling out of bed a little earlier for.

A sunrise I was lucky enough to witness on a run along the lakeshore. 

It's not just about the numbers... but they're important too!

I really believe that the best way to help others understand the work we do at Taller de José is by telling the individual stories of our clients, but given that I've been able to share many of those, I think that a broader "by the numbers" look at Taller can be really helpful in understanding the bigger picture of the impact we're making in the community. So here are a few numbers from the 2012-2013 fiscal year:

And just a few other relevant numbers...

My co-worker and teammate, Lisa,
after today's 20 miler

412 = miles I've run so far during training

20 = miles I ran today (the longest training run before race day)

78.2 = miles until the finish line
3 = weeks until race day!

$1025 = the amount I've raised so far
$955 = amount left to reach my fundraising goal of $2000

This is the final push before race day! I'll be keeping all the clients, staff, and supporters of Taller de José in my thoughts and prayers as I finish the last 78.2 miles standing between me and the finish line. Thank you so much to everyone who has donated so far-- I am so grateful for your generosity. And thank you to everyone who has been keeping me in their prayers and offering encouragement along the way (and to my running buddy who has done so much of the training with me, despite the fact that she's not actually running the marathon herself)-- I couldn't have done this on my own.

(And just for fun... what I discovered when I took my shoes off after this morning's run): 

$15= the amount I spent on fancy socks that I can't even figure out how to wear correctly
... in my defense, I put them on at 4:30am!

When Things Don't Work Out

Like most organizations, at Taller de José, we're really good at sharing the success stories. I love telling the story of the client who was trilled to be granted a visa to remain in the United States. It's easy to share about the client who I connected with an program to get a new stove just in time to cook Christmas dinner for her family. It's heartwarming to hear about my client who went from being essentially blind to having near perfect vision. They're the stories that make us proud to be a part of Taller de José and—we hope—make others eager to join us in that mission.

But the nature of our work is such that not every story is going to have a "happy" ending. As a resource center, we are often limited by the resources that are available; we can can connect them and advocate for them, but we can only do so much if they don't qualify for one reason or another. And we can work for a more just immigration system for the future, but for clients caught up in it now, sometimes they have no legal recourse. Other times, there may be options open to the client, but if there are too many obstacles, if their day-to-day is so overwhelming and anxiety-producing that they can't find the emotional strength or physical ability to follow through with the services they need, we can't force them to do so.

So unfortunately, yes, there are stories with less-than-happy endings. And those are always tough days. But an accompaniment I was on recently helped remind me that we don't promise happy endings. We promise accompaniment. On this particular accompaniment, I went with a long-term client, Susana to a court hearing, during which the judge was going to determine whether or not Susana would lose her legal rights as a parent for her 5 children. The reasons it had reached this point are long an complicated (and confidential), but suffice it to say that Susana is probably not capable of making the best choices for her children at this point in her life. Yet even though she struggles to make decisions in the best interests of her children, she really does love them and had tried so hard to do what she could to have them returned to her care, so listening to hours and hours of court testimony from witnesses who were replaying—in great detail—her worst choices was incredibly difficult. Susana had a lawyer, and we had done our best to assist her in following through with court-ordered services, but ultimately the judge decided that day to terminate her legal rights as a parent, meaning her children will never return to her care.

There was nothing I could do to turn this into a happy ending, but what I could offer to Susana was my presence. A compañera from Taller de José was with Susana throughout the several days of the hearing, sometimes offering clarification if she didn't understand what was happening, but mostly just offering moral support. And though she was clearly upset at the end of the day—and I was drained and saddened on her behalf—she still thanked me profusely for being there with her. At a time when I was feeling frustrated and incapable of helping create a happier resolution to her struggles, she reminded me that my presence was what she needed in that moment, not my knowledge of  legal resources or the English language or the public transit system. After all, the first definition of accompany is "to go along or in company with; join in action." At Taller de José, we pride ourselves on being able to provide so many our our clients with the tools needed to overcome certain obstacles, but we also constantly remind ourselves that the heart of our mission is to let our clients know that they aren't alone on the journey, whatever the outcome.