Katie in Detroit

When we started out this year, I had no idea what the approved Mercy Volunteer Corps definition of “simple living” might be. Could I bring my laptop, my cell phone? All of my clothes? In all this questioning, my digital camera got left at home. But after a long, film-developing adventure, I’ve finally got some pictures of where I’m staying:

Math class is going well. There’s between eight and 12 women in the class each day, and we’re covering our multiplication facts. The women in the class are such an inspiration to me. First of all, it shows a lot of bravery and initiative to come back to school, especially after some of them have been away for so long. And math, in particular, is a scary subject for a lot of them, who have been told  all their lives that they’ll just never be good at it. To come into class, to tackle multiplication, to say so when they don’t understand–it’s a big deal.

This Monday, the girls come back for after-school tutoring, and I start running activity time. I’m super excited, but the office has been so busy I’m not sure how we’re going to fit them into the day. I’m sure we’ll make do!

School started this week and the kids are back at Cristo Rey. We went to our first opening night at Matrix Theater—“Confessions of Women from East L.A.” Things have been hectic at Cabrini Clinic ever since we arrived.

The whole Mercy House is getting into the swing of things here in Detroit—except for me at Mercy Education Project.

I’ve been working there about a month so far, and I love it, but since we’ve been on summer schedule, I have yet to experience what a typical day will be like, with women in for GED class in the morning and girls in for afternoon tutoring.

That will all change on Monday, when GED class finally starts back up. The grade-school girls will be on Sept. 28, not long after.

I’m just as excited as I thought I’d be, but now that the big day is approaching, I’m finding myself pretty nervous as well. I’m going to be teaching basic math to a group of I-don’t-even-know-how-many women. I’ve never done anything remotely like this. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I don’t know how to teach anybody anything.

A lot of the other people there say they had no clue what they were doing when they started either. I’m not sure if I believe them or if they’re trying to make me feel better.

But I do know that I can do what needs done. Things might be crazy when Monday comes, but we’ll start with place value and truck on through addition and subtraction. I just hope I pick up as much as the students do.

It seems like we can’t go anywhere this week without someone telling us how we absolutely must go to jazz fest this weekend.

I’m not much for jazz, but I’m getting pretty excited–I do like a good festival, mostly for the funnel cake and homemade corn dogs. And Detroit’s got a really great set-up for big block parties downtown. There’s supposed to be stages at Hart Plaza, this awesome collections of abstract statues down by the river, and more stages at Campus Martius, the center of town about four blocks away.

We’ve been checking out a lot of the local sights since we got there. Nate and I got to see a Tigers game at Comerica Park the other night thanks to free tickets from Sr. Katherine. It’s a shame they tore down the old Tiger Stadium–less than a mile from our house. There’s still a lot of unused parking lots over here where people used to pay to park for games. But this stadium was incredible. The whole thing was covered in massive tiger statues, some of which had glowing baseballs in their mouths.

We made it out to Eastern Market the other day, as well. Our neighbor Frank took us on a tour, but I don’t know what we would have done on our own–after he left us, we nearly got lost looking for honey.

But one of my favorite things so far has been the Heidelberg Project, this massive art project my supervisor took me past the other day. The artist, Tyree Guyton, owns a lot of the houses along Heidelberg Street and has covered them in paintings and other people’s trash. I wish I lived in one. My personal favorite–the one covered in old stuffed animals.

It’s been gray and and cold and rainy all day today. The low temperature Monday is in the 40s. Last weekend, I wore my winter coat–my Florida winter coat, not my Detroit winter coat. But still. I thought it would at least be October or November before the temperature started dropping.

It’s gotten to be kind of a joke, when we meet new people. Without fail, they always ask where we’re all from. And when we get to me, the response is always the same.

“Oh, Orlaaaaaando!” they chuckle. “I guess you’ll have a bit of a surprise when winter gets here!”

I don’t think I’ve met a single person who hasn’t warned me about how cold it’s going to get, which I guess kind of ruins that surprise. Plus if it’s starting to get colder already, it’s got to be a pretty gradual change in temperature. But even with this preparation I don’t doubt it’s going to be utterly miserable.

After the winter crack, people always feel the need to start listing all the terrible things that go along with winter and subzero temperatures. Some I’ve heard about–you can get frostbite or hypothermia. You can die of carbon monoxide poisoning when you back your car into a snowbank.

But there are a lot of terrible things that would never have occurred to me, like finding a frozen body in an elevator shaft. Or you could get winter depression and start going crazy from the lack of sunlight. Sometimes, I’m told, the sun doesn’t shine for months at a time, much like the tiny Alaskan town in “30 Days of Night.”

Get to know your neighbors now, someone said. Once winter comes, no one’s going to be leaving the house.

Not going to lie, I’m glad it’s not 90 degrees out anymore, especially since our house doesn’t have air conditioning. But I wish that for August at least, it could feel like summer in Michigan.

One of our super-friendly neighbors invited us to dinner the other night along with some of her friends and two Mormon missionaries from down the street. Of course, the most exciting part of the night was our introduction to bumpy cake–a Detroit delicacy.  But we were also given a taste of how luxurious our year of simple living really is.

Becky, the woman who hosted us, was once a Jesuit volunteer in the Marshall Islands. We may have to make do with a limited stipend for groceries, but on the island, she told us, it was sometimes hard to find food to spend it on. The goods in the grocery store were mostly cast offs from the United States, and was usually expired or moldy. Toward the end of her year, there wasn’t even a priest on the island, creating a spiritual dilemma for some of the volunteers.

And we were all blown away by the commitment of the Mormons, who sign on for two years at age 19 and give up virtually all forms of communication. They don’t watch TV or read for pleasure–even the news–and they’re only allowed out of their partners’ sight for the bathroom. They live at their own expense, without a stipend. They call home twice a year, on Christmas and Mother’s Day. Nothing is allowed to distract them from their mission, they told us.

As volunteers, we’ve all experienced friends or family members who don’t understand what we’re doing here in Detroit. It was a weird experience to be on the other end, nearly unable to comprehend someone else’s level of commitment. In comparison, our year of beefing up on prayer and volunteer work and cutting back on TV and junk food seemed almost shallow.

On Saturday, we watched Rene, a former volunteer, begin her novitiate as a Sister of Mercy. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to become a nun these days, when it’s often considered something that people just don’t do anymore.

I know that what we’re doing is important. Whenever we meet new sisters, they tell us how inspired they are by the Mercy Volunteers. But I can’t help but be inspired by the people who are pledging themselves to so much more.

When I told people I was moving to Detroit to help save the world with the Mercy Volunteer Corps, I got a variety of responses.

Buy a gun.  Don’t get capped. Nice knowing you.

So far, I’m a little disappointed. Our neighborhood, in fact, is eerily similar to a small Southern town. Our neighbors sit out on their front porches and wave to each other when they pass on the sidewalk. Little kids ride past on bikes. People came by to introduce themselves. I wouldn’t have been surprised if someone brought us fresh-baked banana bread.

We walked down to the river yesterday to look at Canada, which appeared very peaceful and organized. I don’t think we walked through any area that was worse than anything I’ve seen in Pine Hills, even in the areas we’ll be working, which cater to the underprivileged.

Megan, who’s from Detroit (or at least the suburbs nearby) told us we haven’t been to the bad part of town yet, which I’m sure does exist. And there’s no question the city is going through hard times–jobs and people are leaving in droves. We were told today that the number of Catholic elementary schools in the city has dropped from 200 to about seven. I don’t know how accurate that is, but even if it’s close, that’s crazy.

Still, it’s not the war zone I was warned about. Sr. Mary Ellen at the Cabrini Clinic said Detroit gets a bad rap. For every article she reads about the city, she told us, she wants to say, “What about the other 80 percent?”

The four of us took a tour today of the sites we’ll be visiting, and we saw what a great job that other 80 percent is doing. Nate will be at the Cabrini Clinic doing reception work and helping Sr. Mary Ellen with her special projects. Dave and Megan will be at Detroit Cristo Rey, a Catholic high school that incorporates work days to help supplement tuition costs. The school’s only two years old. Megan’s starting a peer mediation group, and Dave’s starting a school newspaper part-time. He’ll also be doing publicity work for the Matrix Theatre, which involves the community in social justice-oriented theater, often involving these fantastic huge puppets.

And I’ll be at Mercy Education Project, which offers tailored GED prep for local women and tutoring for girls in first through eighth grades.

I was just blown away by the passion of all the people we met today. Each site we visited was even greater than the last. Sr. Mary Jo, our regional coordinator, told us yesterday that most of these sites can’t afford to finance a volunteer (we work for free, but we have stipends and rent), so the local sisters are financing us instead. I don’t think they could have picked sites where we would be more useful. Everywhere we went, the employees invited the rest of us to come help out with tutoring, painting, building or the like if we have any free time.

All the sisters and laypeople we’ve met have been so excited to welcome us here. One sister yesterday just kept repeating, “I’m so happy you’re here. I’m just so happy.” But it’s really them who have dedicated their lives to this work, not us.

Maybe Detroit really does have its dark side. But if there’s anyone who can make it better, it’s the wonderful residents we’ve met here so far.