If you're in the Three Rivers area, drop by Huss School today for our first annual Huss Future Festival! The festival features a giant rummage sale, art vendors, live music, free fair trade coffee from World Fare and tours of the building. We've even got a ping-pong challenge and an apple barrel train!
We'll see you there!
Last week, four of our six *cino interns moved into the rectory of Trinity Episcopal Church, just a short walk down Main Street from my and Rob's apartment, and a short bike ride from Huss School.
At the moment, Johnathan is working at his paid internship with White Yarrow Farm while the rest of us are enjoying the cool early-summer breeze flowing through the VG-R aerie at 37 N. Main. Liz and Marian are collecting quotes for the daily asterisk (sign up here to receive the fruits of their labor via e-mail every week day), while Paul is getting started on grant research for the Imagining Space project. Now playing: The Middle East.
Last week was a patchwork of arrivals and re-arrivals and getting-started sorts of tasks. We...
On May 22, 18 folks from Englewood Christian Church in Indianapolis--9 adults and 9 children--made the trek up to Three Rivers to spend a day getting to know our city and working at Huss School. Interestingly, the church finds itself in the middle of a similar project to ours, having recently taken ownership of an old school building next to their church that they are converting to 32 rental units for neighborhood housing. So, not only did we get a lot of work done around Huss School, we also learned a lot about the things Englewood has been doing to both raise funds and renovate their property. It was a great day!
On Thursday, the Three Rivers Commercial-News ran a great front page story covering our first planting at the Tripple Ripple Community Gardens at Huss School. Here's how Brenda McGowan, one of the garden organizers, contextualizes the work:
This is really a social justice project. The whole goal is to take the people in the community and teach them how to provide for themselves the things that they need. We all need good, healthy food. Whether you can afford it or not, it's here for you.
Posts about spring break from our Imagining Space blog made their way into the local paper this past Saturday. Check it out!
Holy Saturday began as most of my Saturdays have begun since January: waking up early and driving into the country out west of town to help care for Moon, a blind horse owned by my new friend Carol. This work is part of a three-way barter, in which I obtained an icon of Christ Teacher for Rob's thirtieth birthday and the artist gifted my time to Carol. I didn't shower or change out of my work clothes when I returned home in the new light of the unseasonably warm day. Rather, I enjoyed a cup of coffee and then Rob and I headed over to Huss School to try to finish some tasks and find time for reflection before the afternoon's predicted rain.
One of our first objectives was simply to walk the back property--about three acres behind the school--and imagine where things could go and what they might look like in the future, including the community garden that our friends Brenda and Julianna have in the works. Our current plan is to mark off areas of the massive lawn that we will not mow, in order to save time and fuel and to create a more welcoming habitat for the many creatures who forage on the property when humans aren't around. From an upstairs window, I could see a flock of birds, several squirrels and a woodchuck happily searching for food, with the calls of sand hill cranes in the distance. We want to be friendly to them, but also to our neighbors, which is why we'll strive to make the wildness look lovely and communicate our intentions via letters, signage and clean edges.
While we were walking out curved lines around the trees, we heard another familiar call in the distance: our friend Jo Ann. She's been an ally in righteous trouble making for several years now, which is why I took notice when she expressed her vision for a part of the property I'd initially considered rather useless: a paved area on the side of the newer part of the building conveniently hidden by a six-foot fence where locals had gotten into all manner of trouble smashing glass and spray painting. Being right off the gym kitchenette, however, and under the shade of the neighbor's trees, Jo Ann saw a perfect party patio. Yes! Seeing the space through new eyes opened up a whole world of possibility.
After Jo Ann left, we proceeded with the next agenda item: measuring an upstairs classroom and brainstorming possible arrangements for second floor living space. Then, it was on to finishing the weeding of one of the front flowerbeds. And finally, we set to work clearing the aforementioned patio area of leaves, sticks and the debris from cleaning the roof during the spring break trip. The supreme find of that work was some completely composted leaf mould that was loaded with worms! I scooped up as much as I could and, with apologies to the worms, relocated them to the front flower beds to continue their good work there.
By 12:30 pm, the rain was coming down pretty good and turning much of what we were trying to move into mud. Remembering the spring break trip rule that had been so life-giving of stopping our tasks at 12:30 for lunch, we decided it was quittin' time and headed home to dry out and eat. We'll finish the patio another day, but it already looks much better than it did.
The afternoon was filled with chatting and waiting until Terry arrived. Terry's a new acquaintance whose name first popped up during our initial campaign to purchase Huss School, though he'd been a classmate of my parents' in high school. He was passing through and wanted to take the opportunity to see the school. It was wonderful to show him around--another set of new eyes.
But his wouldn't be the last tour of the day. Around 3:30, student friends from Grand Rapids started to arrive for a simple dinner to mark the end of Lent, followed by participation in the annual Easter vigil at St. Gregory's Abbey. We were absolutely delighted that the interest of a few in coming down for the vigil had turned into a caravan of eight. I made a triple batch of Zero Soup from one of my Moosewood cookbooks with a bunch of vegetables we'd frozen last summer, along with whole wheat rosemary focaccia. It was joined by Natalie's delicious french bread and one of the biggest, most beautiful fruit salads I've ever seen.
Before dinner, we headed to the school. One of the students who came down had been part of the spring break trip, but the others had never seen the building before. It was so refreshing to walk through accompanied by their questions and ideas and laughter. At the end of our tour and from an upstairs window again, I noticed another critter in the yard--this time of the young human variety carrying some sort of gun and beckoning to his friends. Back at the patio for the second time that day, I caught the three of them and introduced myself. I don't think I was too intimidating, but poor Isaiah could barely spit out his name. Brandon and Ryan were a little more relaxed, though still very talkative about all of the troublemakers they'd seen around the school. I learned about the guy who spray painted "I love Chelsea" on the brick and about the kids who party in the back courtyard when we leave. It was a very non-linear conversation, but I did manage to tell them a few things about what we hope to do at the building and to invite their help in watching over it (albeit without pointing their "toy" guns at anyone). I'm looking forward to being able to greet them by name and meet their parents, who have wisely taught them not to run around with their guns loaded and to always point them at the ground.
Back at our apartment, ten of us gathered around the table and read Stephen Mitchell's translation of Psalm 90, a poignant reminder of how brief our lives are in the history of the world and in the context of eternity. But it finishes with a prayer for gratitude and purpose:
Teach us how short our time is;
Let us know it in the depth of our souls.
Fill us in the morning with your wisdom;
Shine through us all our lives.
Let our hearts soon grow transparent in the radiance of your love.
Show us how precious each day is; teach us to be fully here.
And let the work of our hands prosper, for our little while.
And then we ate our humble feast, and then we headed out toward the Abbey.
The Abbey's Easter vigil begins at 11:00 pm on Holy Saturday with the lighting and blessing of a new fire and the lighting of the Paschal candle. Then we process into the church for the reading of key stories from the Hebrew Bible, all building toward the transition of midnight. At precisely the right time, the bells ring and the room is illuminated and we remember our baptisms and we sing and we commune. And then we party, resurrection style. Brother Abraham made some delicious snacks, graciously considering the vegans and vegetarians among us, to accompany the wine. I enjoyed good conversation with the Abbot and with our friend Margaret, who was home from college on spring break. And finally, I thanked Brother Abraham for the hospitality of the Abbey, with a promise to continue our conversation about potential points of connection between the Abbey and the Huss School project. At 2:30 a.m., Rob and I finally collapsed into bed, full of surrender and hope.
I'm never quite sure what to make of days like this and I think that's a good thing. Like the mysteries of the Easter vigil, a highly liturgical ritual from a tradition I'm just beginning to know, the patterns of my life lately are filled to the brim with mysteries. How and why were we able to raise the money for *cino to purchase Huss School? Why are these college students, who have so many amazing gifts and ways of seeing the world, interested in visiting our humble little town? Why are friends of my parents from several states away popping up into the story? What's going to grow in that little flower bed in front of the school this summer, much less on several acres ten years from now? How will our connections to Brandon and Ryan and Isaiah develop over the next few years as their neighbors? Some days can be such inscrutable gifts, when I can hardly keep up with all of the ways the past, present and future are mingling together into an epic story in which we, ephemeral candleflames and dust and grass that we are, have roles to play.
Let us proclaim the mystery of faith:
Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ will come again.
And we do proclaim it over and over again, don't we? Not just in the words of an Easter vigil or of a communion liturgy, but in longing and gratitude, we seek to do so every day, and in all things.
When I'm at the Abbey, I don't understand why we kneel when we do or when to bow or what tune to sing or even when I should add my female voice to the lower intonations of the monks. And when I'm at Huss School, I feel equally in the dark, but the smell of damp leaves and the feel of cool cinderblocks and the sounds of sand hill cranes remind me: I am here. I am here for my little while and I have good work to do. I am here, where many others have been and will be in the presence of One who sustains us all. "Behold I am doing a new thing," says the book held by Christ the Teacher in the icon painting that sits in our living room. "Now it shall spring forth."
Bruce Snook, who was part of our journalism panel for the spring break trip, has published an article about the trip over at River Country Journal. Also, the images captured by a photographer who was out at White Yarrow farm when our group visited have made their way into a story about CSAs. Boy, those carrots were delicious!
Today, we cleaned the barn at the Hermitage and moved over to St. Gregory's Abbey, where we'll be spending our last day together. The hymn for morning prayer this morning was "Lord, whose love in humble service," which seemed a perfect way to finish our time at the Hermitage:
Lord, whose love in humble service bore the weight of human need, who upon the cross, forsaken, worked your mercy's perfect deed; we, your servants, bring the worship not of voice alone, but heart, consecrating to your purpose ev'ry gift which you impart.
Still your children wander homeless, still the hungry cry for bread. Still the captives long for freedom, still in grief we mourn our dead. As you, Lord, in deep compassion, healed the sick and freed the soul, by your Spirit send your power to our world to make it whole.
As we worship, grant us vision, till your love's revealing light in its height and depth and greatness dawns upon our quickened sight, making known the needs and burdens your compassion bids us bear, stirring us to ardent service, your abundant life to share.
Raking: check. Well, the front yard at least. One of the themes of the week has been adjusting our sense of scale with the school as tasks take more time, more people and taller ladders than we expect. That said, our feeling after our last morning of school work was that we made quite a bit of progress. The gym is cleaner than it has been in a while, the building is somewhat aired out, some of the stuff-sorting work is finished and we're starting to get set up for a potential rummage sale fundraiser. Sure, there's a lot more to do, but there's always going to be a lot more to do. We finished our time together working at Huss with a photo in front of the giant leaf pile and a reading of Oscar Romero's famous prayer.
After leaving the school, we enjoyed a more leisurely lunch than we've had all week and took some time after we ate just to rest and read and nap--a welcome space of quiet. Just before 3:00, we commenced our art explorations. First, we walked a half block to the Carnegie Center for the Arts to see the current exhibits, as well as some of the creative learning spaces within the building. Then, we piled in the van (leaving Rob behind to staff World Fare) to visit Larry-Michael and Becky Hackenberg at their wetland property along the St. Joseph River called Floodplain meadow. We took a short walk around to see and hear how they've worked to steward the marshy "fast food restaurant for birds," honoring the creatures and history of their place. Afterwards, we gathered in their warm, cozy living room with hot cups of tea to hear their thoughts about the arts in the Three Rivers community. Larry-Michael is a watercolor painter and Becky is a photographer, as well as the founder of the Three Rivers Artists Guild. They shared some wonderful insights about the relationship between art and place. Larry-Michael expressed how art often serves as a record of the ecology of a place, helping viewers see beauty in their community. He recounted a story of a painting he did of a bosc pear from Corey Lake Orchards, which he used for his series of greeting cards. When someone from the orchard came across his cards, she saw herself in the art, exclaiming, "Hey! I'm Corey Lake Orchard!" Later, when he displayed his cards at the orchard during the annual fall color tour, the farming patriarch of the orchard family took three bosc pears and gave them to Larry-Michael, expressing a common understanding of their beauty. The farmer saw beauty in his pears, and so did Larry-Michael--enough to create a painting of them, which then reinforced the farmer's feelings about the fruits of his labor. Like many other folks we've met with this week, Larry-Michael and Becky also wanted to hear from the students, particularly about why they chose to come to Three Rivers for spring break and how they see art being part of both Huss School and their lives in the future.
Our departure was a continuation of the day's theme as Liz, who's been working on a series this week for a photography project, took a portrait of Larry-Michael and Becky with the marsh in the background. We said our thank yous and good byes and headed back downtown to see Police, Adjective at the Riviera Theatre, which we'd just visited and toured yesterday. The film was sometimes excruciatingly slow and quiet, but intentionally so, as the story followed a Romanian police detective trailing a group of pot-smoking teen-agers. Though many first reactions were, "What the...?" our conversation afterwards and over dinner helped uncover some of the film's complexities and purpose related to themes of language and a culture negotiating its post-Communist identity.
Our evening meal was a delicious collection of Asian delights, including bi bim guk su, a spicy Thai lemongrass soup with fresh cilantro, kim chi and citron tea. In a town that has good pub food, but not much in the way of really creative cuisine, it's great to be able to call on our friend Julie to make ethnic dishes with fresh, local ingredients as part of her start-up, on-the-side catering. Just like Rob's and my experience going to college in the middle of cornfields, we're exploring how to make our own fun when someone's not providing it for us.
Matt, a local artist friend, joined us today, and Julie joined us later for the movie and dinner. J.D. Yoder and Bruce Snook also made brief appearances at the school. Oh, and let's not forget Taggy--J.D.'s curious and friendly pup, so-named for her habit of tagging along. Overall, another great day of connections, of the human, animal, culinary and idea varieties.
We did a lot of raking today at Huss School. I'm beginning to realize the scale of this place because I continually underestimate the amount of stuff in the building or on the land. For example, I looked at the front yard today and thought, "There aren't that many leaves here; we can probably finish this in a few hours." Well, at the end of our work period, we weren't quite finished and we had a mountain of leaves collected in a new compost pile on the south side of the gym. The largeness of the building and the yard make everything look small in comparison. I suppose that's a good thing to learn, for all kinds of reasons!
Today's afternoon conversations were really good and informative. We started with a quick tour of a few local businesses in Three Rivers, talking to Tom Lowry at Lowry's Books, Bruce Monroe at the Riviera Theatre, Caryn Wilson at Voyager's Inn and Peggy Deames at Love Your Mother. Each had really interesting observations about running a business in a small town and being committed to this particular place at this particular time. Tom talked a bit about the history of the Three Rivers downtown district: how malls completely changed the landscape and drove out businesses that had operated downtown for decades; how Wal-Mart changed the business landscape again, closing several local stores; and how a vast majority of business attempts simply don't make it at all. The numbers are pretty daunting. 80% of businesses fail within the first five years and, of those that succeed, another 80% fail in the next five years--leaving a 4% success rate after ten years. And small businesses fail for all kinds of reasons, only a few of them financial. Almost every business owner we spoke to recognized these odds and chose to start a business anyway--many of them in middle of one of the worst recessions our nation has ever experienced. These folks really know how to live into hope, disregarding all evidence pointing the other direction.
We concluded the afternoon with a panel discussion featuring several local journalists: Elena Hines from the Commercial-News, Helen McCauslin from Day by Day in Fabius (a daily photo blog), Bruce Snook from River Country Journal, and Buck Hicks from the Liberty 1st forum. We had a great conversation about the possibilities and drawbacks of both online and print media, the way information spreads around the community and is discussed, and the power of the media to tell some stories while missing others (particularly in relation to race). We really enjoyed the conversation and it was great to get all of those folks in the same room talking about what they do in the community.