Brothers and sisters, when you pray for God to show you what he is doing and to go before you into a place, he answers the prayer
Today was one of those days at work that made me love what I do....one of those days where every little piece comes together to make you believe that God is good.
First of all, all the copiers finally worked in the teacher's breakroom, so I was able to print out the homework for my class for two weeks in advance. I was cruisin.
Parent conferences had been the night before, and I heard they went well. We had spent all of Wednesday and Tuesday preparing the room and getting the kids to finish all the projects they needed to have done to show their parents for conferences. It is always the most stressful time of the year. But today we had finished and so we got to have some fun. Ms. Moor (the teacher I work with) read the Polar Express to our class and another 2nd grade class. Then we started a project where we wrote letters to Santa and short stories about our own imaginary trips to the North Pole-- complete with little train cut outs and sponge painting of night skies with stars....
Here was where it hit me today.
The whole class was busily working on their project, everyone staying on task--some busily writing, others painting, some asking for help on spelling....
I was walking around the desks, checking in on whoever needed help. I was standing up by the dry erase board when Maria, one of my favorite students in the class, came up to me for some help on spelling. She tapped my arm and looked up at me, in her characteristic way, bending her neck all the way back as if I was a hundred feel tall. She said, "Mr Vigil, how do you spell 'believe' ?" I said "here, I'll show you..." and I grabbed a dry erase marker- usually, Ms. Moore and I will write words on the board when students ask us how to spell them, so we can sound them out as we write, and so that they can see what the written word looks like. I took the orange marker in my hand, and put it to the white board....the ink form the felt tip came out in thick broad strokes as a formed a 'b' then the 'e'......And then it hit me. It was some kind of beauty and inspiration at work because I suddenly became consciuous of what I was doing...
'Believe'
Believe. My hand slowed down as I got to the middle of the word. I stopped and stared at it.
'Believe'
Yes, God. I am writing 'Believe' on the white board of Ms. Moore's 2nd grade class at the Accelerated School in South L.A.
What did it mean to me? I smiled as I thought about it. I thought, 'Yeah, believe. This is right. This is the writing on the wall. This is the writing that God has for me each day.' I prayed that morning'God, show me how you are in this place.' Of course he is, but the simplicity of that action on the white board just hit me.
Am I someone that can see and understand when God writes 'Believe' in front of my eyes?
What am I to believe?
I believe in God for those children, for Walden School's children, for the youth of NWN. I live here because something in me has answered God's call to beleive in another future for his son's and daughters on the city. It is right that I should write 'believe.' It is right that I should be reminded--but not only be reminded-- I should be one who helps to open up eyes and minds and hearts to that earnest plea: "Believe!" Look around you! Look at this city, this beautiful sun, the people you work with, how much they love and serve their classes....Look at Ms. Moore, who unyeildingly and relentlessly teaches and serves and provides and uplifts these children. Look at the skills God has given you! Look at the places he has put you, the things he has allowed you to be a part of! Look at the hope that is springing up for this city right under your nose...in the everyday gritty education of 7 and 8 year olds. In the every day fights, arguments, reprimands, encouragements, injuries, insults, soothing words, laughter, friendships.......The hope...
Look at the relationships among the youth in your neighborhood! Look at how they are entering a kingdom that is not of this world....and how community is born and grows. Look at these people who make a time and a place for teenagers to learn, love, seek and find in Northwest Pasadena.....
What reason have I not to believe?
It is good.
There is a book in our classroom called 'America is her name' It was written by Luis Rodriguez, a social activist and ex gang member from LA. He wrote this story about a Mixteca Indian girl whose family lives in poverty in iner-city Chicago. She wants to be a poet. She wants to use her words, Spanish and Mixtec...to create a more beautiful world than the one she walks through every day to get to school. Her teachers and family do not all appreciate her love for poetry and language, as they are struggling to survive a harsh reality.
But in the end, her family finds her voice. She got an A on a paper, and her family saw that it was not all a waste of time.
I love that. I love it becasue it speaks to my displacement. It speaks to the redemption of a people in a land not their own. Soon I will go back to New Mexico. There, I hear a different language than I do here. There, I can walk along the Rio Grande, and look across the mesa... Navajo hunters once rode there, they provided for their families, and told their stories to their children there....
I am in LA now. So are many families from the heartland of their ancestors--- Michoacan, Oaxaca, Geurrero, Guatemala, El Salvador..... How is it that they arrived here? What did they find? How did God meet them?
I seek to know these answers for myself, too.
But tomorrow,when I roll past the Azteca Carnicerias and the Taquerias, when I hear the beautiful accents of the kids at TAS, or hang out with George or Juan or Frankie in my apartment......I will believe.
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