Hey, Virginia!

        I packed my car with family and friends and they saw me off as I started my journey. Jersey bound. I'm taking the long way to California to see all the land I can and to meet up with life long friends along the way. I'm enriching and acclimating myself before I start my ten month long service commitment with AmeriCorps. A panda sat in the window and counted the trees that past. The sunset over Hartford, Connecticut shined it's erie light over the highway, tinting my skin a pinkish hue.

Capturing life goes the distance as mystique darkness crawled across New York City. I searched for Lady Liberty who stood tall watching over her inhabitants, looking towards the sky for a sign. Ten years later, yet I can't tell if she is filled with hope or filled with fear. Atop the George Washington Bridge, the Hudson River breathed it's muggy fish breath in my face but suddenly, Jersey strangely but welcomely smelled like some sort of a popcorn festival.

Steam billowed from tall buildings and airplanes took off from Newark, New Jersey over the city lights. In Linden, darkness had fallen. Heads rested on shoulders and hands were held during a stroll down a lover's lane. It's always a slow crawl through Roselle, New Jersey but I got to "Aunt" Pat's with no problems.

Rocky and Patch always crave extra love and it's always easy to spoil the "dog-people."

After a night's rest, "Aunt" Pat made me a Jersey treat: an egg, cheese and pork roll breakfast sandwich.

Now ready for day two, I sipped my Red Bull and smiled back at the phantom toll booth lady, bearing black skin, a nose piercing and dreadlocks. Cinnamon stains on the Jersey Turnpike. Delaware came and went with red flashes and outside Baltimore, Maryland, a disgruntle customer caused a commotion at the gas station. The silver springs in my car bounced to a happy country tune in the perfect 85 degree weather. Puffy clouds and blue sky hovered over Fairfax, Virginia. I drove and drove and drove. Who knew Virginia was so huge?! Orange sheet metal rolls up the front lawn and I pull off the highway in Marshal, Virginia to gas-up at the La Palmita station across the street from this Marshal Methodist Church.

Cattle to the left and sheep to the right. Farmlands. Black sheep, white sheep. I thought about what it feels like to stick out like a black sheep. I found them inspiring. More farmlands. I drove through Virginia and thought,  she's got a lot to offer… if you're a farmer.

The day turned to pre-dusk and I nodded a thought at a rest stop but I gained my second wind from the beauty of Shenandoah. Endless caverns. Acres and acres of nature.

I heard my first Southern accent at a Citgo that night and couldn't help but wonder what the Southland was like in the Autumntime. Soon enough. I got my third wind by the time I passed the exit for Virginia Tech and finally, after hours and hours, I crossed the State Line. I thought she'd never end, Virginia.

Tennessee however, brought rain. He brought lightening to my left and darkness to my right. I could smell wet hay and freshly cut grass. Darkened, starless skies feel like empty arms and white knuckles.

I drove into North Carolina in the dark, surrounded by tall, black shadows the whole way into Asheville. Mountains. Mountains I hadn't seen before. Mountains I still haven't seen… in daylight. It took me twelve hours that day to get to Rachael in Asheville, North Carolina but I made it and still had energy to catch up on our busy summers and learn Asheville has the best beer in the country.

Your Tree

Your Tree

A friend once told me that possibly, for every one person,

there is a tree.

A tree that grew with you,

not against you.

Existence throws tiny veiny leaves,

swirling and pushing and pulling.

But this one tree,

is you.

Burly and Brawny.

It grows with you,

by which she meant,

with every day, every triumph, or gain

-     a twig would sprout

and for every loss, or tribune

     -     a branch would evolve

for every discovery and rebirth

-     a leaf would bloom

and with the dealt of death,

that leaf would fall.

But with every grain of soil that stirs

and for every cloud of dust that forms and sticks to the bark, shows

youve done it.

Lived it.

Been there.

Limbs may grow old,

stuck frozen in time,

upon mid-descent.

Hurricane winds may be determined and fierce,

striping blossoms from vines,

splitting dried branches from the trunk,

dropping their heavy baggage onto our ground,

onto what ever lies below.

 But be strong,

Your Tree will stand.

She added,

Even though youll never see it, your tree is out there,

for someone else to notice and gain inspiration from.

Some people believe in guardian angels,

She believed in trees.

When she is gone…

Her tree will die.

When I am gone…

My tree will die.

But when we live…

We must be strong.

Like trees.

Colin Progen 2004/2011

          It always amazes me how long winter on the East Coast can last. The harsh cold surrounds the snow up until the bitter end. Then I spend all of April preparing for Spring (and my birthday) and once May comes, I’m ready for the beach. However, my Tiger Lilies come and my Tiger Lilies go. The summer sun flowers arrive but by the end of September, hang their heads in mourning for the farewell wave of Summer's weather. With just a snap of the fingers, Summer has drawn back it's heat, releasing our lungs from its grip and “flu season” bares its crooked teeth around the chilly New England corner. The weather begins to encourage sweatshirts, scarecrows emerge, retail stores set their Halloween candy planograms and pumpkins begin to sprout from their vines. Things start to become festive as the leaves slowly start to change color, from green into deep reds, oranges and yellows. Eventually gourds will be available at every florist, grocery store and market. It's the season of death, yet after hibernation, new life transpires.

           As September comes to an end and I start my four-wheeled-journey across our vast country, I say a quiet prayer, for no other month, to be as crazy as September 2011 has been. I'm a big ball of magnetic energy, like when you hold two magnets together. The push and the pull curves up and down, and jolts back to front. Like an invisible rubber dodgeball that is pulsing in midair. I can push people away and I can draw people close. Its seems that people always come into our lives, or leave our presence at the strangest time. I've always believed everything happens for a reason, though that belief has been most recently challenged. I know that I can't lose my faith and I realize, I couldn't be happier that I have reconciled differences this season. I hung my own head in mourning for the grand exit and the memories of the ones I won't be lucky enough to see again but welcomed the ones still here, who mean the most.

          I love my family, my cousins are my siblings and I am grateful for everyone who still stands as tall as their trees. Life works in strange ways and I have no idea what the next year has in store for me. I will continue to learn the lessons that life offers and I will grow, much like my tree, which is a Buckeye; more specific to New England, A Horse Chestnut Tree.

         With dried cheeks and contained energy, I'm hitting the road now. First stop, New Jersey. See ya'll there!

Family Values

                             [most all of] My Family

                                                    Blessed.

Sanctuary

         During the summer of 2010, Andrew and I were given the opportunity to join All Saints' Parish from Peterborough, New Hampshire, on their fifth annual, mission trip to Juarez, Mexico to build a Boy's Dorm. What an experience we had! Sixteen students, four adults and Andrew and I built the structure of the dormitory, helped build a bathroom in a local house and also did manual labor at the facility where we lived for the week.  Before we left, I had invited all my closest friends to attend a fundraising party where I raised $700.00 to donate to Central Victoria, the Church and home to many children saved from the streets by Pastor Joel. Along with the invitation, I sent an essay I wrote about my upcoming trip. I later used an edited version of that essay as my Motivational Statement for my AmeriCorps application.

        My meme, at the time of my arrival home, was finishing up her college credit writing course and for one of her final stories, she interviewed me, used pieces of my original essay, added her own words and together, her article, "Hope For Juarez, Mexico" by, Doris Progen" was published over at youthworker.com the beginning of this year!

         I have yet to finish a follow-up but I wanted to share with you for now, those who haven't read it, my essay that I originally wrote, dealing with the fears of violence and hopes of changing the world before I headed South of the border into Juarez, Mexico, one of the dangerous cities on Earth.

                         Sanctuary
                                Written: January, 2010

Other than declared war zones, Juarez, Mexico is one of the fastest growing, most dangerous cities in the world. Its population climbs higher each year and, with that, so does its poverty and murderous crime rate. Juarez leaves hundreds of children homeless, sick and on the streets each day. Boys are brought into gangs and girls are often left to lives of prostitution. This June, I am flying over the border, landing with my best foot on the ground and making the time to help these children.

Consisting of several Monadnock area youth and four adults, our team will travel to the impoverished community in Juarez, Mexico for the fifth consecutive year. This will be my first time. The mission of our group, led by and sponsored by All Saints’ Church in Peterborough, NH, is to spend a week under the desert heat in this underprivileged city, to lend our hard-working hands to Pastor Joel Cortez Ramirez.

Pastor Joel Cortez Ramirez is a religious man who has lived in Juarez, Mexico for over twenty years. He has a beautiful family and is the founder of Centro Victoria, a ministry of God for the people of Mexico. Pastor Joel was an only child born into a broken marriage, raised in Mexico by his aunts who lied to him and abused him. At the age of six, Pastor Joel was saved by “Hogar Victoria” (Victory Home), a place where children could go to receive a better life. Upon his admission, life was indeed improved, but by his early teens, he had harbored so much angst he could no longer deal with it. His angst turned to addiction and thievery. Since Juarez is one of the 14 cities along the southern border of the United States, Pastor Joel set out from Mexico City en route to Juarez to cross into prosperous land. Soon after, sitting on a bench near death, he was recruited by Christian rehabilitation and embraced into the arms of his God.

Today, Pastor Joel encourages trust and faith in God and also instills personal confidence, good character and integrity. These qualities were never taught to the children in Juarez before this time, but now, they are receiving education in their own schoolhouses that make up the elementary and junior high classes at Centro Victoria. Pastor Joel is persistent in reaching young girls who have been physically and mentally abused, or who come from dysfunctional families or the streets. Centro Victoria fills a crucial gap in a country whose government is broken and overburdened. In addition to housing these lost children, Centro Victoria provides medical attention, clothing, food, counseling, education on drug prevention, and space to discover what moves them spiritually, leaving room to heal, live, love, read the Bible and find security in a chance at a better life focused on community, social and family integration.

Each child given shelter at Centro Victoria costs Pastor Joel nearly $2,500 a year. Unfortunately, due to the difficulty of promotion, his mission is not supported much by outside sources. Small churches, like All Saints’ in Peterborough, who hear of the dire needs of the area, try to send financial support and youth groups to lend a hand. It is still not enough. Additionally, the economic crisis has also diminished the sparse support and the media, filled with negative reports from Mexico, generates a fear of Juarez. Yet through all the bad, Pastor Joel continues his work and relentlessly takes action to further his mission. His dream is to one day house one hundred children.

In previous years, Peterborough’s All Saints’ Church group has helped build houses and schools, mix cement for walls to surround the area, dig foundations, mortar cinder blocks and construct community centers for the children, all without the aid of machinery.

The full cost of the trip is $1,100 per person. Thanks to dedication and fundraising, the out-of-pocket cost per person is reduced to $400 per plane ticket. Mine is paid for; however, since I am not a high school student in the Monadnock area, I will not be involved in every fundraising event. I will, nonetheless, be participating in a wine-tasting benefit party and a spring clean-up raffle, though I know in my heart, I can raise more money for tools and extra donations for Centro Victoria.

Therefore, I am planning a fundraising party, inviting all my close friends and family to my house! What a way to celebrate with each other how fortunate we really are! Together we can make a difference in the world. Even if you can give only a little, all contributions are greatly appreciated. Every single penny adds up. Each dollar adjoined generates a huge contribution of help that is significantly valued. Without the security of the walls of Centro Victoria, children would fall victim to homelessness, gangs, drugs and prostitution. I plead for help and I express ample amounts of overflowing appreciation and exploding thanks.

I feel lucky to be a part of this group. I am grateful for the chance to work in the community of a different country, help make a difference and to enhance the well-being of the people of Juarez. I feel that this is just the beginning of a string of life-changing service events I will engage in that will be most rewarding. I strive to continue my quest of community service and my pursuit to someday soon, serve in the United States Americorps in their mission to reinforce community and expand leadership skills through team-based service projects. For now, this summer, I will swan-dive into these polluted waters to save schools of children and present them with crystal clear seas. How sweet it would be for these precious Mexican children to wake up in secure arms and benefit from our donations, which created what lies within the cement walls of Centro Victoria in Juarez, Mexico.

The team and children in front of the roofless structure of the three-room, boy's dorm on the last day.