New Experiences

I took my nephew to his first day of high school this past week.  He was so nervous he skipped breakfast and when I asked him about his first day, he told me that he couldn’t find the cafeteria and his little group of friends all went without lunch or water.  The following day when I dropped him off, I told him, “I can’t believe that you and your friends, who are in the smartest classes, couldn’t figure out how lunch works.  Today, jokingly ask the teacher if Freshman are meant to starve and to be so weak by the last period that concentration is impossible from going without lunch. Be the hero for your friends and ask the teacher so that you all get fed.”  That was a good segue into new experiences causing high anxiety.  I shared with him, how every time I start a new class I always feel super nervous, but then after a few days it becomes the new norm and my nerves leave me.  Teachers are as nervous as the students I told him, so just keep that in mind that you are not alone in your uneasiness the first few days of school.  The second day report was a lot better they all ate and he was able to enjoy his classes.

Seeing my nephew so nervous as he started a completely new school – bigger- a whole new world, it comforted me because new experiences are tough!  And I think as we get older we can beat ourselves up for feeling anxious and so out of control with new things.  It’s like just because we aged we now have to be comfortable in all situations without nerves.  This week I started teaching a new class and I was so nervous because it was my first time teaching in a hybrid format.  Normally I have my virtual and in person kids at different appointments, but as our school works at getting all students back in person now direct instruction has to be hybrid with virtual and in person students together at the same time.  All week my anxiety was to through roof because I have to lead and in my mind I was thinking how much the kids would hate it because I hate teaching in this format.  Yet, my nephew taught me that even though I am the teacher I am allowed to make mistakes and be super nervous because I am human.  And it’s perfectly human to feel so utterly out-of-control-nervous when trying new things.

I think as I age, the anxiety will try to get the best of me.  It will try to get me to avoid new experiences, but if I push through those uncomfortable feelings I can grow and learn.  I might even discover new things I enjoy.  

   

Check In

How are you doing?

I feel like I am drifting away, like this whole pandemic has cut the cord to my deep connection with the faith community.  My belief is still strong, but I do miss my weekly encounters with people that shared my passion for God.  These days I spend more time with people that don’t share the same faith and it’s hard not feeling like the odd girl out. 

Did you watch the new episode of “The Bachelor” or “Saving Sunset” or “The Real Housewives”?  “No to all of the above,” I say, “I like shows that make me feel good about myself and those reality TV Shows really don’t inspire goodness in me.”  Then the conversation goes dead and I feel like the oddest person alive because I prefer historical drama, PBS or Mastery Theatre shows.  I mean even in the superficiality of conversation I still have a difficult time finding common ground.

I think of Saint Francis and the various people that he spoke with and I know that I need to improve, but it so helps when one has a physical community to belong to.  A place that takes all the weirdos like me.  I miss having those avenues like my Bible Studies, Extension Learning, Theology on Tap and the many other social events that I used to attend with the various church groups in my area.  Being weird was easier then because I had a refuge to go to where my beliefs were validated. 

“O, Divine Master, Grant that I may not so much seek // To be consoled as to console // To be understood as to understand // To be loved as to love…”

I forget that I am not the center and it’s not always about me, and that’s why I continue to live wanting wholeheartedly to imitate Saint Francis to be more like Him and less like me.

Let Us Pray

Sometimes I get really discouraged about the future.  The most popular answer among the student population that I work with when asked: what do you want to be when you grow up? Is the next influencer or gamer.  No one wants a noble, traditional profession – now it’s about fame and money.  That’s what motivates todays youth.  I get discouraged because while my nephew actually wants to be an anesthesiologist (today), he still doesn’t see the need for God.  I usually am the one that tells his parents when it’s time for the Sacraments and these past few months trying to get them to agree to send my nephew to catechism has been met with numerous excuses.  “I’m not going, I don’t believe in that stuff.” “How can I force him to go when he doesn’t believe?”

I get frustrated because we raised a child who thinks that God and His Church is irrelevant.  Of course, I am not the parent and have tried in my own way to help him providing answers to all the questions that baffle him about the faith and dispute arguments like alien civilizations killing God, among other gnarly things he picks up from Reddit.  Yet, I find myself in the court alone as his parents are more focused on academics and what my nephew voices, then how much an encounter with God would change his life.

Sometimes, I get so discouraged, but then I think of my own conversion story.  I left the church and eventually was led back.  Maybe the same can happen to him, so while my actions are being met to deaf ears, my prayers will have to do.  Just like my mother prayed for me to find my way to God, I too must rely on that- even when I am so inclined to action.       

Covid and Agoraphobia

I don’t know about you, but trying to live life with a sense of normalcy has been such a challenge after such a long period of quarantine.  Sometimes I feel quite agoraphobic because I have difficulty motivating myself to do things outside my home.  While in-person Mass has been reinstated my normal Bible study groups still for the most part have either continue meeting virtually or not at all.  Though there are some benefits to meeting virtually, I miss the side conversations that I use to have with members from my Franciscan fraternity.  I miss my Monday night weekly study, luckily the Rise women’s monthly meetings have started to be back in person and they truly are food for my soul.  My Master Catechesis Certificate program has also been on hold…

Yet, as things start opening back up, I have difficulty getting myself motivated enough to leave my house.  Sometimes, it’s a couple months before I hit the dog park because I struggle with leaving my house.  I still haven’t gotten my visiting the Blessed Sacrament routine down because I get home from work and I am so accustomed to my home environment being “it” that leaving it again is sometimes quite impossible.  Through my Facebook page I see friends going out and enjoying integrating back into society, it looks like so much fun, but come the weekend and all I want to do is be home.

I have started to do things outside my house a little more, but I struggle with my mind still being trapped in quarantine mentality.  I have shared this with other friends and it seems like it’s normal to feel unmotivated to leave the house because for over a year that was all we were able to do.  I’m hoping that soon I can start making plans to travel and continue challenging myself to get back integrated into society overcoming my new anxiety.

Mexican-American

I purposely wear Mexican ethnic clothes to work to show the students the beauty of our culture.  I know that many, during the difficult high school years, tend to shun away speaking the language or having any semblance of pride in their roots- so what I hope is to show the kids that being who you are is ok.  After wearing a woven tunic that I recently purchased in Mexico, a student came the following week wearing a sarape sack.  She pridefully showed it to me and said, “Look, Ms. Penny do you like my new bag?  I got it over the weekend.” This prompted a discussion on the beauty of ethnic fashion.  I told her how Frida Kahlo loved wearing cultural outfits because her husband Diego Rivera had a weakness for that style.

I was sharing this story with a group of my closest Mexican friends and they told me quite frankly that ethnic clothes do not make me Mexican and in fact that they have never seen me as Mexican, but mostly like someone who has blended into the American culture.  This was a bit of a slap in the face because I was born in Mexico and I thought that was enough to identify me as Mexican, but because I left as a child and have lived most of my life here- my Mexican friends think I have lost my Mexicaness.  When speaking to American friends they of course see me as Mexican, thus I am back where I have always been: too Mexican to be American and too American to be Mexican.  Luckily, I still don’t identify as Latinx or else they would be right (smile) and I would definitely no longer be Mexican.

They even brought up my citizenship- I told them I had dual citizenship, but even so they think the American citizenship outweighs my Mexican nationality.  In wearing typical clothes my aim is not to claim Mexicaness, my desire is simply to spotlight the beauty of my roots and in doing so giving others the space to find pride in their own roots.  For me, my cultural identity has given me the greatest joy.  It sucks that I am at the age that I am and I am still hearing the same arguments that used to make my skin boil.  However, in the end I think I need to start embracing my chameleon skin, one that is a blend of Mexican and American and though my weakness is to the place I was born – I do love the country that has allowed me to fly and make my dreams beautiful realities, but just to please people I guess I need to start answering the identity question as, “I, Penny am Mexican-American” because I don’t fly solo anymore according to the mainstream friends (LOL).          

What Dreams May Come

A person can have multiple dreams… 

I love my job, just like some students don’t thrive in traditional school some teachers also need a different teaching platform to succeed.  Until, I landed my job I didn’t know schools like mine existed -where much of the learning happens in independent study.  I usually have five hour-and-a-half appointments with groups of about six students at the time, during this time I administer tests, answer questions, instruct and build rapport with my kids. Then I teach one or two English classes the traditional way each semester.  This format really works for me because I work daily very closely with a small number of students at a time and then I only need to prep for teaching two classes the traditional way with ten or more students in it.  For someone with bipolar the low student count has been such a blessing not only in the regular classroom, but daily with my student appointments.  Yes, the majority of my students are credit deficient due to poor choices or mental disabilities, but I love encouraging them and celebrating each victory because they are not used to succeeding.  Being bipolar and having to put on hold my teaching dream also makes me relate to my students and I am just so thankful that God gave me this opportunity.

While I love what I do for a living, I do have other dreams.  I would love to get married and start a family.  I think sometimes people think that just because a person can love her job- that means that no more dreams are able to continue to take place in her being.  However, I also try to live in the moment and right now I have this job where I serve teens that are struggling and I try to be a light in their path guiding them to better pastures.  Yet, the fact that I feel so blessed (after ten years of putting my dream on hold for health reasons) doesn’t mean that I am not a multi-faceted person with more dreams to bring to fruition.  I am like a diamond with many sides and each side has a dream to come.  Yet, while I work and pray for those other goals I also am enjoying the phase that I am at right now.          

Encouragement is A Two-Way Street

Encouragement is a two-way street.  These past couple of weeks at work have been super stressful as I get used to my new routine as a hybrid teacher. Now more than ever I struggle going from an in-person period to a virtual one.  My anxiety has been a huge struggle because I tend to have issues with being in control and right now flipping from one mode of teaching to another without a break to gather my bearings has been extremely challenging.  I kept asking my fellow teachers if they felt equally stressed to gage whether what I am feeling comes from the job or if I’m having severe anxiety again.  Their validation gave me hope that once I get used to my new normal, my anxiety will calm.  Then on Thursday our principal surprised us a basket of snacks to help us get through our first whole week of the grind.  That action immediately gave me a feeling of being appreciated, helped with anxiety and encouraged me to keep going. 

I am constantly trying to find ways to motivate my students (many who struggle with mental disabilities) and there are times that I also need to be encouraged too.  I think most of us appreciate having a cheerleader on our team now and then.  Most of the time I try to take that role, but when I step away and it seems like I am no longer doing it it’s because I probably need you to encourage me.  That’s why I feel so blessed to work at my school where we are small enough to be able to work in a way where we feel like a team switching roles between encouraging and receiving encouragement.

Every morning I try to encourage myself by praying in the morning and then listening to Relevant Radio on the way to work. I remind myself that God loves me unconditionally and that whatever size my problems might be, God is bigger.    

On Baptism

For the longest time, I struggled with being wrong because I had this notion of perfectionism.  This need for things to be perfect many times made my life extremely difficult because I felt like I couldn’t make a mistake, being wrong brought so many feelings of shame.  I still notice this mind block in many areas of my life.  Recently, I have noticed a greater confidence in speaking with strangers about my faith, something that I was afraid to do because I didn’t want to provide the wrong information or be stumped unable to answer a question. Yet, as I work with students who have the same issues as I do and as I find myself telling them that mistakes help us grow and they aren’t failures if we learn from them- I know that I need to practice what I teach.

Batismal font, place where Juan Diego was baptized.

So, when I went to dinner for a friend’s birthday and was sitting next to my friend’s aunt and her cousin who were animatedly perplexed about a person close to them who was Catholic and was going to baptize his infant son I decided to join the conversation to offer a Catholic perspective.  The aunt explained that infant baptisms were wrong because the child didn’t have the ability to chose Jesus as his Lord and Savior.  I explained how good parents often make choices for children without their consent knowing that it’s in the best interest of the child.  I also explained how we are creatures of God and when we are baptized we become sons and daughters of God- this means that we join God’s family.  Thus, baptism also joins us to the community and community is needed for our sanctification.  In community we will grow up in faith and in our relationship with God.

My friend’s aunt was stumped by having met with a Catholic who knows her faith and quickly went on to change the conversation, but I noticed that the cousin was relieved because she had been raised Catholic and now was protestant- but her family is still Catholic.  And the person who was going to baptize their son was her brother.  I felt in the conversation she got some level of understanding that Catholicism is ok because she was being pressured to talk to her brother on the subject.  Now having a better understanding of the sacrament, she felt her brother’s choice wasn’t sacrilegious and I saw some ease come over her.  The conversation also showed me that I am better versed in my faith then I give myself credit for and while I might get stumped with a question – I can use those moments when I am wrong or don’t know the answer as moments to learn and grow.        

Taking A Risk: Speaking About My Faith

Most of the time feel like I am the least qualified person to speak about the Catholic faith.  Always afraid of being a heretic, I try not to write about doctrine I try to just share my personal story.  During my trip to Mexico, we were in a small tour bus with people from all over the world, since we were going to visit the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe there were some conversations about Catholicism among the group members, mainly among the non-Catholic folk.  I sat in my seat eavesdropping curious to hear different point of views.  A historian from the states was the most vocal.  He kept asking these two girls a bunch of questions on purgatory and indulgences and when the girls were unable to answer, satisfied he would say, “There’s so much I don’t understand about the Catholic Church as a Christian man.”  After hearing him go on and on about the absurdity of the Catholic faith and the great satisfaction he got from no one being able to give him insight into my faith, I finally decided that I would speak to him. 

On our last stop in Coyoacan when we were walking towards the Frida Kahlo museum I went over introduced myself and said, “Hey, I heard that you have some questions about the Catholic faith and I would love to give you some insight from the perspective of a practicing Catholic, while I might not have all the answers that you are looking for, I think that I can clear doubts on both purgatory and indulgences for you.”

My statement left him speechless and while I thought he would be open for ecumenical dialogue, he shut down my offer and said that he has a history teacher and knew all he needed to know about Catholicism.  Then he went on to mention his credentials as a way to intimidate me.  I told him I was also a teacher and like him I worked with high school students and also taught theology to adults hoping to join the Catholic Church.  He then went on to praise me as his tactic to get me as far away from a religious conversation as he could…  I was disappointed that he treated me with such disregard after being so lively in his interactions with everyone else on the tour who couldn’t defend our faith.  I realized then that he didn’t want to learn, but rather got satisfaction and a sense of superiority by speaking to people about his erroneous views.  Yet, inside my heart was a smile because I put myself out there to teach another outside of my RCIA classroom.  I think it must have been the fruits of seeing my Lupita.     

Traveling with a Non-Catholic Guide

Recently, I traveled to Mexico (with my siblings) to visit Our Lady of Guadalupe at her home, due to Covid it felt like a doctor’s visit as we were in and out without being able to go inside either of the basilicas.  We were able to walk the outside grounds which have a lot of Catholic history and pass in front of the tilma, yet I was hoping we would be able to go inside be there for mass or at least a good hour of personal prayer while I took in the image of Our Lady.  To add to our unsuccess we had a tour guide who wasn’t Catholic and he rushed us through the tour, at a point saying, “you guys are probably so sick of churches by now.”  I am used to going to on Catholic led tours and this one totally felt different. I felt misunderstood in my desire to slow down and let me soak in the blessed ground that I was walking though.  I wanted a long moment in a pew, to just be.  Yet, with Covid limited access, I had to make the best of my short moment with Lupita.

I thought of the many pilgrims that come on this journey and are rushed with a non-Catholic guide and I realize that the shrine can become just a tourist destination with no substance.  Just another place to take a picture at and cross off of the bucket list.  Yet, to me and my siblings Our Lady of Guadalupe was the reason we made the trek to Mexico City.  We were so thirsty for faith, so in need of the most powerful intercessor in addition to wanting to leave our burdens at the altar of Jesus.  This past year of isolation has taken a toll on each of us and we were hoping to go and be with our Mother as she led us closer to Jesus.  While I didn’t get my time to sit in a pew or to even see the basilicas from the inside up close, the trip did ignite that flame in me that was growing fainter by the day.  During the entire trip I kept a close conversation with Lupita and I feel close to Jesus again.  I am inspired to continue trying to live a holy life.

It was also interesting to travel with a non-Catholic guide because I got a different perspective from the way that I usually look at things.  I got to see how some Mexicans are extremely proud of their indigenous roots, of the ancient civilizations, languages and cultures that intermingle in our history.  Our guide’s passion was evident at Teotihuacan, the site of Sun and Mood Pyramids- I think he cut the basilica short because he had so much more to say about the pyramids and its ancient people.  He was particular ticked off that some Catholic Churches, like the one was legend has it that Juan Diego was baptized, were made from pieces of the pyramids.  He also got offended when I asked which temple was used for sacrifices and gave me a long lecture on the “non-History-Channel” truth as he called it.  I realized that in his mind the Church was what ended the ancient civilizations…

When I saw the tilma of Our Lady of Guadalupe I also asked him why it was so big since I thought it would be smaller. I was like, “Why is it so big if Juan Diego was an indigenous and probably not that tall?” And our guide just whispered something under his breath and never gave me an answer.  It was only until mom reminded me of how indigenous people used their tilmas to carry items folding them to make them into a large pouch that would support the loads they carried- that I understood its size.  Any who, I learned that in the future I will stick to my Catholic led pilgrimages (smile).