Why I'm Wearing White

"A religious body's right to self-governance must include the ability to select, and to be selective about, those who will serve as the very 'embodiment of its message.'" - Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito (9-0 opinion, Hosanna-Tabor v. EEOC)

Have you read this article yet?

Vanderbilt University has recently altered their non-discrimination policy in a way that disables the ability of student groups to choose their leaders based on principles of faith. While the University loves to boast in its diversity and lack of discrimination, in truth they are asking the entire body to conform to a homogenous set of values and rules that simply don't make sense across all student groups.

My own college experience and formative young adult years, and those of my dear friends, were deeply shaped by religious organizations at Vanderbilt: Reformed University Fellowship, CRU, the Baptist Collegiate Ministry, Beta Upsilon Chi, Vandy Catholic, InterVarsity, Navigators, and more. The beauty of these organizations' roles on campus is now in a perilous place.

I am proud to be a Commodore...most days. Today is not one of those days.

Please join me and many others across the nation in praying for our University's administration, leaders, staff, and students as they meet at an unprecedented Town Hall meeting tonight about the implementation of the new policies. Pray that the Lord may be glorified through the words and actions of the Body of Christ at Vanderbilt.

Today, I am wearing white to support my comrades at Vanderbilt. I am wearing white to display my convictions that religious organizations should be able to make decisions based on their religious beliefs. I am wearing white as a Commodore, as a Christian, and as a human. Join me.

Fly Away Home

The other night, thanks to cable TV, I rewatched the classic and underrated film "Fly Away Home." In case you forgot, this movie tells the true story of a girl who taught a motherless flock of geese how to fly south for the winter by leading them in a homemade airplane.

But that's not where the story begins.

Underscored by Mary Chapin Carpenter's impeccable "10,000 Miles," the story wordlessly begins with little Amy and her mother driving around New Zealand. They're exchanging laughs, watching the nightscapes pass by, and clearly enjoying a normal drive in the car together. And then the semi truck swerves, throwing their car off the road. The mother dies. Amy survives and goes to live with her estranged father in Canada, where she'll eventually become the surrogate mother of the flock of goslings.

Time after time, Amy and her father strive to come up with ways to teach the geese to fly south. Even if you haven't seen the movie before, you know they'll make it. Like most movies we love, this is a story of redemption. What strings us breathlessly along is not knowing if or when they'll hit trouble along the way.

We worry about Amy when the practice plane crashes with her in it in the field. We gasp when Igor the goose gets hit out of the sky. We fear that the law will catch up with them and the geese's wings will get clipped in the night. Our hearts race when the American military almost shoots Amy and the geese out of the sky. But we know they're going to make it. We know they're going to be okay in the end.

Isn't that our story, too? The Bible - the world's Great Story of redemption - has a "happy ending." The happiest, in fact. Yet throughout the Bible and our own lives, we continue to worry when the next ball will drop. Even though we know the ending.

I often catch myself full of fear or anxiety or breathless anticipation as life sits on the cusp of diverging down one road or the other. But like the movie, even though I don't know if Igor will die or if the plane will have enough fuel to get to the next stop, I know they're going to make it south and be more than alright.

I know the ending. Why do I continue to fear the middle so much?

Volunteer Teachers in Namibia

Apologies up front for this being a lengthier-than-normal post. Bear with me.

I want to share with you a little insight into one of the many reasons I left Namibia, which was that my service was, in fact, hurting my community more than helping it. I'd like to give you a little context from my own experience, the writings of another volunteer teacher, and a favorite book of mine.

When I left my teaching site, another WorldTeach volunteer took my place for the remainder of the last two terms of school. It was a relief to know that my classes would not go untaught, but still left me feeling conflicted knowing that the school was no longer benefitting from volunteer teachers.

I have no doubt that the first few volunteers at my school (which we'll abbreviate PSSS for anonymity and brevity) were beneficial. It is, after all, a rural school with more learners than any given teacher should have to oversee in one class. And I'm sure that at some point it did not have many resources.

But today, after eons of a white ruling principal and over five years of white volunteer teachers since, PSSS is a school at which many Namibian teachers are eager to teach, despite it being "in the bush." It is one of the more reputable schools in the country. And it is very well resourced compared to most schools in the region, with internet (even wi-fi as of late), a full and well-organized library, many computers, what appears to be an unlimited supply of paper, two copy machines, some air conditioning, and some of the highest paid teachers in the region.

Needless to say, PSSS does not need volunteer teachers.

Read what the volunteer after me wrote about in her blog when she left the school at the end of last year (reprinted with permission):

I was summoned back to school for a department meeting where we discussed who would take over which classes in the 2012 school year. One teacher got a new job in Katima, so we were short one teacher, and then there was the issue of the volunteer. The Head of Department, who is very dedicated and an awesome guy, turned to me and indicated that I should just ‘pretend’ like I was the volunteer and to take whatever classes I thought they would want. I responded with an inquiry, “What volunteer?”

I told WorldTeach long ago, as did the volunteer before me and the one before her, that [PSSS] does not benefit from having a volunteer after five years of non-sustainable assistance by untrained teachers. They looked at me quizzically, “The one that will come when you go.” I replied, stone-faced, “WorldTeach is not sending another volunteer to [PSSS].” It is not sustainable to have a volunteer year-in and year-out, and they have had Peace Corps volunteers, JICA (Japanese Peace Corps, basically), and WorldTeach, back-to-back, for more than 5 years. [PSSS] is apathetic to volunteers’ needs and wants and therefore, despite the convenient location of Ohangwena, should not be given preference when it comes to new arrivals in my opinion. Like I said, the previous two volunteers said the same. Their response shocked me:
“Why not?”
“Well, you didn’t request one, and all of the placements have been made, and there isn’t one assigned to [PSSS]; I checked weeks ago.”
“Of course we would have requested one; that doesn’t make any sense, we request one every year.”
“Well, no one did this year, and now it’s too late.”
“We will call Monday and request.”
“Well, alright, but it’s too late, really, they already did the assignments for next year and they have been placed at other schools. There aren’t any more.”
“We will just order more.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are always people wanting to volunteer; we will just order another one.”

To think that they honestly believe that they can simply “order more” volunteers – not unlike a textbook – without even having to request them on time makes me nauseous. I have told them numerous times that we pay for the experience, that we want to teach and to come to Namibia and to learn about a new culture and to be challenged. For some reason they still think that we simply have nothing else to do. They feel entitled to a volunteer and do not realize what we sacrifice to be a part of their community. Not that we are martyrs – I don’t mean that at all, since we do want to do it and have a desire to change ourselves and our communities through our work – but we do re-wire our brains for the duration of our stay here that we are here to help others and ultimately do what we are told. We often work harder than our colleagues with no thanks. Simply put, Namibian teachers do not understand the ‘volunteer spirit’ or why we come here, because they would never have the opportunity to do such a thing and likely even if they did, they wouldn’t, because they typically don’t travel and don’t see the value in it.

I wish I could say I was shocked when I read her post. But frankly, it didn't surprise me. I sighed and moved on.

The issue with development work is that we all should be striving to work ourselves out of our jobs. After all, "the entire goal of development work is for the local people to take charge of their individual lives and community" (p112)

It appears that PSSS is suffering immensely from years and years of unintentional paternalism. Intentional or unintentional, it's destructive. And it's time for them to get on their own feet and take charge of their lives, their systems, and their community.

Avoid paternalism. Do not do things for people that they can do for themselves. (p116)

There are two kinds of paternalism that affect PSSS: labor paternalism and managerial paternalism. The former is present when we do work for people who can do that work themselves. As I said before, I played a key role in labor paternalism at my school. I hate that.

Managerial paternalism occurs when we plan, manage, and direct things when locals could be doing that themselves. When Helping Hurts laid out several reasons why locals allow managerial paternalism; they fit my experience in Namibia so well that I unintentionally wrote "NAM" next to every single one.

- They [locals] do not need to take charge because they know that we [outsiders] will take charge if they wait long enough.
- They lack the confidence to take charge, particularly when the 'superior,' middle-to-upper-class North Americans are involved.
- They, like we, have internalized the messages of centuries of colonialism, slavery, and racism: Caucasians run things and everyone else follows [an exceptionally tender issue since apartheid was only just abolished 22 years ago]
- They know that by letting us run the show it is more likely that we will birng in money and other material resources to give to them. (p119)

Woof. Makes you want to vomit, right? There are so many ways that we can cause harm.

Needless to say, I'm grateful that PSSS finally has the opportunity to step out on its own. I'm excited for them to have an all-local Language Department. I'm glad that they're finally responding to the Ministry's kick in the pants to hire a local. I'm eager for them to learn that they can not only exist, but succeed without a white teacher at their school. They fear that the only possible outcome in this "sink or swim" situation is sinking, but I know they'll do the latter.

My, how much we all have left to learn.

The Fantastic Flying Books of Morris Lessmore

The complete version of Moonbot Studios' The Fantastic Flying Books of Morris Lessmore is up on Vimeo these days. This piece has been nominated for best animated short film in the 2012 Oscars. It's an endearing, speechless anecdote about the magic, mystery, and tenderness of our beloved books...and reminds me of the sweet eight wordless minutes in "Up" when the story of Carl & Ellie's life together unfolds.

Besides, who doesn't want to be oh so in-the-know as you're watching the Oscars and be able to say you've actually seen one of the nominated short films?

A Little More on Education in Namibia

Hope you're not tired of reading tidbits about Namibia. Despite my personal struggles there, my heart is still very much connected to the country and I feel the full gamut of emotions when it comes to discussions of education policy in Namibia.

Check out these two articles: University of Namibia rejects thousands of applicants (from the local national newspaper, The Namibian) and Namibia's language policy is "poisoning" children (from The Guardian).

What a pivotal time this is for the Ministry of Education as they strive to hone and perfect their policies for the betterment of the entire country. Join me in prayer for the leaders and teachers...and especially the young minds whose lives are so affected by these decisions.

January Book List

"When my friend Jim Wallis was a seminary student at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School outside of Chicago, he and some of his classmates did a little experiment. They went through all sixty-six books of the Bible and underlined every passage and verse that dealt with poverty, wealth, justice, and oppression. Then one of Jim's fellow students took a pair or scissors and physically cut every one of those verses out of the Bible. The result was a volume in tatters that barely held together...So central were these themes to Scripture that the resulting Bible was in shambles...Jim's Bible was literally full of holes. Hole (n.) - a hollowed place in something solid" 

-The Hole in Our Gospel by Richard Stearns

The VanderNerd in me has been utterly giddy lately. Having just finished reading When Helping Hurts  by Steve Corbett & Brian Fikkert with four dear friends, we've just ordered our next book: Generous Justice by Tim Keller. I also have at least four books on my nightstand that I'm paging through and several tabs open on my browser with case studies, theses, and articles on the topic. I simply can't get enough of others' commentary on the fields of missions, volunteerism, globalization, and international development.

How neat is it that my work and personal interests are the SAME? What a gift.

I wanted to share a list of things I'm checking out right now (some thanks to my brand spankin' new Nashville Library Card!):

• The Hole in Our Gospel - Richard Stearns
• Toxic Charity - Robert D. Lupton
• Walking with the Poor - Bryant L. Meyers
• The End of Poverty - Jeffrey Sachs
• The Bottom Billion - Paul Collier
• Serving with Eyes Wide Open - Livermore
• The White Man's Burden - William Easterly
• The Poor Will Be Glad - Peter Greer
• Cross-Cultural Servanthood - Duane Elmer
• Dead Aid - Dambisa Moyo
• This article on the "Short-Term Missionary vs Vacationary Debate"
• This study about international volunteer service by the Center for Social Development, one of the first comprehensive studies on this topic (focused on two agencies with which I've volunteered in the past - awesome, right?)
• This assessment about the impact of volunteers through a leading volunteer-sending organization
• This commentary from an advocate of short term missions and his blog

What are you reading? Any books or favorites that I'm missing from my list?

To NOT Be Known

Remember how important it seems to be known?

I've started noticing this new phenomena of NOT being known. I'm sure some of you can identify.

This weekend, I found myself in a room of brand new people, only a few of which had ever laid eyes on me before. We began the ritual dance of getting-to-know you questions and casual laughs displaying our friendliness. It was nice.

But as we sat around playing board games, I realized all the things these people did NOT know me for. They didn't know me as "that Vanderbilt grad." They didn't know me as "that girl who lived in Namibia." They didn't know me as "the Chicagoan" or "the music major" or "the girl with only one parent." And even after answering their questions, I was still only known as "the girl who works at the nonprofit."

How do I identify myself? (good question for 2012, right?) In my About Me section, I describe myself as a twentysomething...Christian...musician...traveler...optimist...and more. Others have pegged me by my alma mater, my neighborhood, my career, or my friends. Even growing up, I was known in some way - as a kid from Henking/Hoffman, as someone who went to GCC, as Sue McGee's daughter.

As we venture out into unchartered waters and travel around the States and world as adults, we are increasingly NOT known, and the things by which we've been identified all our lives suddenly become obsolete.

How do we continue to introduce ourselves to people who do not know us? How do I want to be peripherally known as an adult?

To Be Known

A week ago while catching up with old grads, one of our friends who has done his fair share of travelling and living, and has recently decided to spend time back in the States, said something profound in his search for "what's next":

"It's not a question of knowing people; it's a question of being known."

How important it is for us to be known, and how challenging it is for us when we are not known. I've watched friends struggle with it since graduation - you move to a new place and don't know a soul, but even after six months, when you've hopefully at least established friends to say hi to and maybe even hang out with, you still are not deeply known. I've watched myself fall into the same unknownness in Namibia. It usually takes a long time to get to the point of being known. Rarely is it something that happens at a fast pace, and when it does, what a surprise and gift it is. "I feel like we've known each other forever."

We are loved by a God who knows us. And He surrounds us with people who know us and who we can know. People who anticipate how we will react to new situations; people who know when to write a card or buy us a cup of coffee because it's been a hard week; people who know how to pray for us when we don't even have the words. What a treasure these true friends are.

How important it is to surround ourselves by people who know us, especially coming off of a sad season, an extended time away, or an hard trial. It's easy for many of us to get to know people, but hard to plant yourself in a place where you are known.

The Year of Anticipated Stability

Guess what? I don't really know what stability feels like anymore. Despite growing up in the same friendly suburb - and essentially the same house - for the first 18 years of life, the last six have brought nothing but change, change, change. Moving to and from home & college for four years; packing up for a month in Africa; changing majors and lifeplans; moving in and out of dorms and storage units in Nashville; graduating; moving home; moving back to Nashville; two internships; moving to Namibia; moving back to Nashville; working full-time. It's enough to give me whiplash just thinking about it!

As I was having coffee (at a great new coffeeshop!) with a friend last week, we were talking New Years and resolutions and what this year may bring. In that moment, I realized that this is the first time that I get to look forward on a year of relative stability. I'm not planning on leaving Nashville, leaving my job, moving homes, getting married, or having a baby. Surely, any one of these things has the potential to change. But it's the first time in many years that I'm not anticipating change or planning on picking up my life and spinning it around.

Let's all breathe a huge sigh of relief and expectation.

So in addition to aforementioned resolutions, 2012 is looking to be a year of stability. Which may bring me as much trouble as saying "it can't be worse than 2011." But I'll take my chances.

Glory be.

NamJams

Oh my WORD, am I excited to share this with you!

NamJams. Namibian music you love to listen to. This was my favorite song in Namibia. We used to play it on repeat from the shebeen jukebox while on holiday in Luderitz. It was so ubiquitous that you could practically guarantee hearing it on every taxi/combi/hike. Needless to say, I've already listened to it about 379 times since Peace Corps Namibia Volunteer and fellow Vanderbilt alumna Claire posted it earlier today.

It's the best. "I just wanna live my life the best way I can."

Listen. Enjoy. Repeat.

Obligatory New Years Post

Every good blogger writes a New Years post. When January 1 came and went, I sighed and resigned myself to being a terrible blogger. Later, I decided that there's no better way to start of the new year than with a little procrastination; I would simply write my big post a week later.

(PS does New Year(')s need an apostrophe? Hmm...)

In mid-December, I started making the harrowing mistake of telling friends that "there is no way 2012 can be worse than 2011." This past year was the most trying of my life: circumstantially, emotionally, developmentally. I have had dark seasons before, but nothing that has so engulfed a specific calendar year. Surely things have to get better this year, right?

2011 was a year in which I lost myself. While my firm foundation in Christ has steadfastly prevailed, I've spent an entire year not recognizing myself. Who is this person who quits major commitments? Who is this girl who would rather stay home every night than plan relentless social ventures? Who is this person who struggles to feel the joy and enthusiasm that shined so brightly from 1988-2010?

Thus, I've decided that 2012 is going to be a year of rediscovery, healing, and hope. I pray to learn the lesson of continual deepjoy that Christ preaches. I am eager to know the woman that the Lord knit Karen McGee to be - not just in place and profession, but in personality, emotions, reactions, love, strengths, weaknesses, and desires. I am desperately in need of soul-healing after this past year. I'm hopeful that I can remain hopeful in the midst of whatever 2012 throws at me.

In that vein, while I did not have any resolutions when the clock (or "moonpie," as it happens in Memphis) struck midnight last weekend, I have pondered long and hard and come up with three simple things I'd like to do in the next 358 days:

1. run a full marathon
2. immerse myself in the word daily
3. learn to play the hammered dulcimer

Join me in hoping without disappointment as we kick of 2012.

The Second Annual Christmas Pajama Party: Sweets & Treats!

Aside from the best Hot Chocolate Bar and a plethora of cookies, we had many other sweets & treats at the Second Annual Christmas Pajama Party. Actually, only two that were photographed. These are both super easy to make any time of the year, so, uhh, please don't be offended if I start to eat these year-round

Schnuggles

Ingredients:
Hershey's Kisses (I used regular chocolate, mint chocolate, and peppermint)
Square pretzels (the ones that look like windows)
Christmas M&M's

Directions:
Preheat oven to 200 degrees F. Cover a baking sheet with parchment paper. Arrange square pretzels on the parchment paper so they are all facing up and not laying on each other - do not use broken pretzels. Place one unwrapped Hershey Kiss on top of each pretzel. Bake in oven for 10 minutes, or until the chocolate is soft. Remove from oven and immediately press one M&M onto the top of each Kiss, flattening it. Place parchment paper with Schnuggles on top in fridge until they harden. Enjoy!


Peppermint Bark

Ingredients:
Chocolate (I used one bag of dark chocolate chips and one bag of white chocolate chips)
Candy canes, crushed

Directions:
Melt chocolate in the refrigerator, one variety at a time. Begin by heating the chips for 30 seconds and stir. Continue heating in 10-second intervals, stirring each time until they are melted. While chocolate chips are melting, cover a baking sheet with aluminum foil. Crush candy canes in a plastic bag. As soon as the chocolate is melted, immediately pour it onto the aluminum foil and spread using a knife. If you want to make marble peppermint bark, pour the dark chocolate and white chocolate side by side and swirl them together with a knife. Sprinkle crushed candy canes on top and press into chocolate if needed. Allow chocolate to set on the counter or in the refrigerator. As soon as it is hard, break it into pieces and enjoy!