In the News The Institute for
Sustainable Development has named Solita Denard as one of its 2010 Sustainability Fellows. Solita is well-loved in the JIP community. She served as Associate Director and worked with Executive Director Susan Gladin on program development, particularly our Servant Leadership curriculum, and outreach. Solita just completed a one year fast-track graduate program at the UNC Chapel Hill School of Social Work. Even with her intensely busy schedule this past year, she continued to teach and be an ever present support for the program. Congratulations Solita! |

Dear Christy
An "Advice" Column with Spirit
Dear Christy, Food seems like it would be an important issue in community. There's the obvious considerations of who likes what, who cooks what, and how to budget but there's also the issue of what food means in the community beyond sustenance, ie.an issue of scarcity vs. abundance; nurturing, etc. What are your thoughts about the role of food in intentional community?
Those who I shared life in community with during my year as a Johnson Intern will appreciate the irony of me, a notoriously unadventurous eater, writing about the presence and meaning of food in an intentional community. Of the many "growing pains" that the transition from individual life to community life brought me, one of the most sharply felt was related to food; specifically, how to find a compromise for the preferences of eight individual people. Even more important than getting the food was turning that food into the meals that we would share. As the year progressed, the meals we ate together were a fairly good indicator of the current health of the community. I can remember dinners where the unspoken tension was enough to ruin anyone's appetite, but I recall more meals where we lingered over the food and the conversation, where a special dessert* was received with much appreciation, where we laughed together, where loved ones from outside of the community joined the meal and were welcomed into the fragile family that we had created.
To share a meal with another person is to express an association with them, to identify with them. It's why the meals that Jesus shared with prostitutes, tax collectors, and poor sinners were such a scandal. It's why the act of inviting a stranger into our homes is so counter-cultural. To sit with a person and share a meal with them is an act of friendship, and of fellowship. Most of the meals I experienced during the time I lived in intentional community were ordinary - we didn't eat fancy food, the conversation was basic, the same people were there nearly every week. The dining room table was the setting for some of our most important formation as a community because of what it reminded us of, week after week: that we were included, that we mattered, that even when our behavior was unloving we could come to the table and be welcomed.
(* Will Owen's baking abilities are unparalleled - I think a peace treaty could probably be negotiated if one of his cakes was present.)
"Dear Christy" is Christy Strickland, JIP alumna 08-09, and College Chaplain Intern at Pres House in Madison, WI |
A Simple Trip to the Grocery Store by Tricia Lindley
From the beginning, my community (08-09) attached itself to the consensus model... which made for some VERY long discussions in trying to find what worked for everyone. The consensus model is about the process as much as it is about finding a resolution that works for all. We began this model with a 2-hour discussion to decide which bedrooms we would be in, used it during our "business" meetings and for group decision-making, and continued these conversations throughout the year! Ask any of us about the consensus model and you might see someone roll their eyes, sigh loudly and start fidgeting, or immediately offer to tell you a funny story about how incredibly LONG that process can be! Yet, something in us seemed ready for a shift, a shift from "individualist-centered" thinking and living to "community-centered" thinking and living- and the consensus process was one of the best practices for us in creating that shift. Admittedly, we might have gotten a little carried away when we tried to continue that into our grocery shopping- stopping to call everyone (or later, the magic number 3 that was needed for a decision to be made) before buying something not on the list! But somewhere along the way, it became our world and my own mindset. "Consider others when I do something that affects those in my community" became an unspoken rule. A bond is formed when you solve problems together, when you shop together, when you struggle with money together, when you work through a 2-hour conversation and come to the end of it with a better idea than any one person offered in the beginning. Then... the year came to an end, I moved into an apartment in Carrboro, and once everyone had left it was again time for a trip to the grocery store. How hard could it be, shopping for one person? Indeed, very hard! I found myself wandering up and down the aisles, not really knowing what to buy. I noticed the foods that each member would have wanted (Ranch dressing for Hannes, Nutella for Matt, "normal" cereal for Christy, boneless, skinless chicken for Jess, fair trade chocolate that would be Amanda-approved, the fresh fruit and vegetables that would have made Will and Anne smile). So what should I buy? It felt too weird to make this decision alone, after so many months of consensus and agreement before a decision was made. Grocery shopping wasn't quite the adventure, debating over brand names and whether to splurge on ice cream wasn't quite as interesting without other people sharing the space. I suddenly felt very grateful for the consensus model. There is a whole depth of fun, laughter, and bonding in the process and it only took moving out of that culture for me to realize it!
Tricia works at The Stone House, a center for spiritual life and strategic action, in Mebane, NC .
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LEADERSHIP AND STAFF
Watson A. Bowes, Jr. Jim Crow Jill Edens Ernest Kraybill Lawrence (Larry) Logan Katie Thompson Leona Paschal Whichard Marian S. "Chick" White Andrew Dobelstein Mary Chase Pat McCarthy Vincent Kopp
Marty Rogers Amey Victoria Adkins
Susan Gladin, Exec. Director Ebeth Scott-Sinclair, Assoc. Director
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The Johnson Intern Program blends social ministry, intellectual inquiry, and intentional community into a year that enables young adults to explore their spiritual life within the context of servant-leadership.
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Present and Listening: A Practice of Reflection by the Rev. Liz Dowling-Sendor
 What happens when people set aside time to deeply listen to
each other's stories and to reflect on their lives? During six Friday mornings this spring the
Johnson Interns have been engaged in what we're calling "Present and
Listening," a way of storytelling and compassionate response. This is the third year we've offered Interns
and members of the community this chance to hear and respond to each other's
struggles and joys or to help discern a sense of calling. This spring the Interns - along with Susan Gladin, Ebeth
Scott-Sinclair, Ryan Rowe and myself -- gather in the living room for two and a
half hours of discussion and listening. We open with a "Three Breaths" meditation,
becoming more and more aware of the present moment, disconnecting for a time
from concerns about past and future, becoming more fully attentive to each
other. Then we check in on how we're
doing - or how we are being - that
day. Next, we do our own version of the ancient
practice of lectio divina, a way of
reading in which the reader pays attention to certain words or phrases that stir
a deep response within. Week by week, we
read one of the six chapters of Let Your
Life Speak by Parker Palmer, and each Friday morning we offer phrases from
that week's chapter that spoke most profoundly to us. Then we move into the "Listening Hearts" part of the
morning, during which one person reflects to the group about a current joy or
challenge or struggle. Presenters might
talk about anything from what's happening for them today, or what they're
facing now, to a situation like a relationship or a pattern in their lives or a
sense of where they're being called. The
others listen quietly and carefully, becoming aware of what arises in
themselves as they listen. After the presenter has spoken, and after a silence, the
listeners each name a feeling and an image they discerned from the presenter's
story. Then they offer thoughts on what
seems to them to be the key issue in the story. Next they suggest something from the Bible, literature, music or art -
such as a story, a character, a word or phrase, an image - that seems to them
to resonate with the presenter's story. Finally, the listeners tell how the presenter's story seems to parallel
something they also have experienced. At
the end, presenters reflect back to the group on how this listening exercise
affected them and what insights they might have gained. Between each type of response, we observe
times of silence in order to maintain a reflective mood and to gain more
clarity within ourselves before our next response. Over our weeks together in this safe and confidential
setting, as we share our wisdom and our struggles and joys with each other, we
find that trust can build, compassion for each other can deepen and a sense of
community can continue to grow strong. Liz Dowling-Sendor, an ordained Episcopal priest and writer, is a teacher and mentor for the Johnson Intern Program.
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"Somewhere we know that without silence words lose
their meaning, that without listening speaking no longer heals, that
without distance closeness cannot cure."
Henri Nouwen
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 Pull Your Life Together! by Annemarie Wess
The
phrase "Pull Your Life Together," a common slogan between myself and
close
friends during college, quickly became my statement for the year.
However, I
found out that pulling your life into a togetherness that suits you is
never
easy. I first encountered the JIP while completing my senior year in
2008 at
Salem College in Winston-Salem, NC. Unfortunately, due to my father's
health
issues I made the decision to return home. I never will regret this
decision
but the year before the program left me broken, a shattered image of
myself. I
am grateful for the strange, random, and perfectly placed events that
brought
me to this amazing place. Upon arrival, I tried to keep my expectations
low and
positivity high. As a natural introvert I pushed myself to communicate
often
and avoid the tendency to observe those around me. The Freedom House, my
placement for the year as well as the other interns I have grown close
to,
immediately made me feel relieved. I knew I had made a great choice for
personal growth and spiritual well being. I remember riding home after
servant
leadership class unable to stop smiling. I turned to Will, another
intern and
my sole passenger, exclaiming "I'm back; I'm back to who I am!" In this
moment
I began to, as I so often say, "Pull my life together." I thank the
program for
giving me the tools and time to rediscover the self I almost lost to the
world.
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There
are many things that come to mind when I think of how blessed I am to
work as an
intern for the Freedom House. As a program assisting those struggling
with
substance abuse, mental illness, and developmental disability this
non-profit
exemplifies what it means to truly show compassion. The Freedom House
offers
numerous forms of aid such as crisis services, transitional living,
outpatient
care, and halfway houses for men and women as well as community support.
They
truly are committed to each and every individual including clients and
staff.
It is enlightening daily, and continuously helping me evolve as a human
being. Currently
my time is divided between the crisis facilities, the satellite clinic
in
Hillsborough, and the employment aid provided with community support.
The
interaction I have been honored to share with the clients has provided
some of
the most profound moments in my life. Each moment is a reminder of the
selflessness that one must maintain and the care one must display. I
have witnessed
a growth of spirit in many of the individuals I have encountered. I will
be
forever thankful for the opportunities and people I met while interning
with
The Freedom House.
Annemarie Wess
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To Not Close One's Eyes by Jesse Osmun
(The following is an excerpt from Jesse's blog The Road Less Traveled, dated March 30, 2010. Jesse, a 07-08 JIP alumni, is serving a
two year tour of service in the Peace Corps. He is working in Kwuzulu
Natal in Greytown, South Africa. His site is Umlovi Aides Center where
he focuses on programming and empowerment.)
I've started t o settle into my life here in Greytown and I really
enjoy the community and the people in it. Although the winter is
creeping in slowly, most days are warm enough to sit out on my patio
with a glass of wine or coffee and a good book and read while the cats
check me out. Unfortunately. Goebels, the large and infirmed Rhodesian
Ridgeback who stays at my place was put down yesterday, so we've only
got the cats, who aren't much for intimidating would be burglars.
If it's a warm day, I might even see an Ibis or two pacing the
perimeter of the reflecting pool. Greytown is interesting in the way
that it is probably the only community where I have encountered a Black
"middle class" along with Whites and Coloureds ( Indians, Middle
Easterners and Asians are still referred to as Coloureds, a holdover
from the days of racial classification under Apartheid, but a term that
is not seen as offensive here by anyone). This Black middle class has
led to an interesting stratification of layers between rich and poor and
even along racial lines. As much as they work together, the races here
are still largely sectioned into 3 distinct areas : Indians and Asians
in the eastern part of town, Whites in the northern part near my area (
near the main drag) and Blacks a few blocks down and to the right. On
top of that, in the middle of town, in a small sunken area near the rail
tracks are two squatter settlements where people live in abject
poverty. If you have seen the movie Tsotsi or more recently Invictus
you might have an idea of what it may look like: Tiny tin shacks,
garbage, mangy dogs. These areas are considered "bad" and as such,
nobody really goes there, even aid agencies. Some of the squatters are
employed as brick-makers through our training programs, but many are
unemployed as the employment rate is only 55% for 100,000 residents. Many children in these informal settlements are
orphans, with a percentage rate of 44% (this is from 2009 so it's likely
this rate has grown). It is this certain population that intrigues me:
Are they getting services? What are their concerns? What do they want
for their families, their children, their future? What does justice look
like to them?
After Palm Sunday, I read Proverbs and was struck by an often
overlooked verse: "Whoever gives to the poor will lack nothing, but a curse will come
upon those who close their eyes to poverty"
I take in the life around me, and it's easy to focus on the great,
pleasant, and successful aspects of life here in my community. But have
I, or we, closed my/our eyes to poverty? I feel a strong commitment to
not close my eyes to it, no matter how harrowing, unpleasant and violent
it is. As I do my Community Needs Assessment and look at the projects I
want to involve myself in, I will always be drawn to the invisible, to
those whom we close our eyes to.
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