Wood is the Chinese element for spring: representing the creative urge to achieve. Interestingly the Chinese further explain that this urge to achieve can turn to frustration, even anger. Similar to Western philosophy wood represents growth and expansion, the capacity to look forward, personal growth and expansion. Continue reading →

Last week prior to lunch at the Common Art program, I wondered what they would be serving for lunch that day. If it was something I liked, I would join the others; if not, I would grab something later to eat. I realized, for the first time in the months that I have interned with Emmanuel Church, that to have the option to choose what I eat that day is a privilege that many of our members do not have. Furthermore, there are a number of choices most take for granted that our members may not have access to. It struck me that the lack of choice could is insidiously destructive as personal choices define who we are or aspire to be.   Continue reading →

There is a woman at Common Art who doesn’t like me. Well I’m actually not sure if she doesn’t like me or if I remind her of someone she dislikes, but either way, I’m now the target of her provocative remarks. This doesn’t necessarily offend me because I honestly don’t take it personally, but it does intimidate me. I am intimidated by the idea of offending someone so deeply that they show disdain for me. I have started to withdraw into myself while in her presence because I felt like I am insulting her by merely existing. When I began notice that I was withdrawing, I knew something had to change; I cannot properly serve a community if I am retreating internally. I do not want to disengage from the Common Art community, so I decided to nip this problem in the bud by going to my supervisors for advice. Continue reading →

Hello everyone! After a refreshing winter break, it is amazing to be back at Emmanuel again! I was both anxious and gleeful to be able to see people again after being gone for almost a month. The thought that people might be resentful of my absence or that I would need to re-earn some trust made me slightly worried about returning, but I was energized by the idea of reconnecting with the amazing communities at Common Art, Cafe Emmanuel, and Art and Spirituality once again.  Upon returning to Common Art, I was warmly greeted by many members of the community, which was amazing and so positively affirming for me. However, one interaction I had with a Common Art member sticks out to me the most because it was both deeply touching yet also humbling.

One woman came up to me and said, “It’s good to see you back again!” Her statement was intentional and warm, and I responded, “Thank you, it’s great to see you, too!” She then continued, “When you first left, I missed you, but then after a little while I forgot about you.” After this statement, she let out a little chuckle, and I couldn’t help but laugh in return. Her honesty was not meant to convey malice but instead the humor of the situation. Whether or not she realized it, she was demonstrating her resilience to change and loss through her humor. It’s funny how quickly she went from noting my absence to not remembering me at all (I mean it had only been a month!).  This reminded me that, as a volunteer, I am merely one of many faces that the people I serve come into contact with on a weekly basis.  To say that I am merely one of many faces is not meant to demean the importance of volunteering and serving the needs of others, but it is meant to be a reminder – to myself if anyone – that I am not inherently important to a person just because I assist them. People may or may not connect with me; they may or may not feel assisted by me; they may or may not miss me when we eventually part ways.  Some people will remember me and the ways I have affected or influenced them forever, and some people will forget me in a month.  Life and people are funny in that way, and I think it’s beautiful to be reminded to not take myself too seriously and to stay humble.

–Briana Heller

The holidays can be both joyous and difficult for most of us. Certainly, time spent with family and the abundance of gifts and food are a privilege not to be taken for granted. It can also be a period of anxiety and frustration. For those without a home or loved ones the holidays are particularly difficult. Our collective goal at this time of year is to make this season special, momentarily leaving behind personal difficulties.

In each of the programs this month, we have focused on holiday-themed projects. The Art and Spirituality participants at prison have been busy making holiday cards for family and decorations for their units. Many of the Common Art participants have been busy preparing for this weekend’s art sale but also found time to create decorations for their upcoming celebration. Café Emmanuel enjoyed a celebratory meal with live holiday jazz music provided by the Boston Conservatory of Music. From a musical performance to humble holiday decorations, these are all special moments significant in heart and joy.

This past week I had a lengthy discussion with one of the Common Art participants as I was directing others to our temporary space within the chapel. She shared a story of someone she described as being “down on his luck.” She went on to say that in spite of his dire circumstances, he used his limited resources to buy her lunch. Commenting on the rarity of such a selfless gesture, she then observed the equal importance of also taking care of yourself.

I was a bit taken aback by how relevant her story was to this particular month. There is a tremendous amount of joy and personal satisfaction in the giving of oneself and gifts during the holidays. It is beneficial to both the recipient and the provider. But, as my wise friend pointed out it is equally important to take care of oneself. We should all give ourselves permission to enjoy and rejuvenate. It is our responsibility to look beyond the inevitable stressors and focus on the beauty of the season and the hopefulness of human nature. That woman’s friend gave to her in spite of having little to give. She in turn gave to me by telling me the story.

This will be our last post for a month while Briana Heller and I take our winter break. We greatly look forward to our return and the further sharing of our experiences with you. Happy Holidays to you all.

–Brianna Babick

Psalm 139:11  “Darkness and light to You are both alike.”

I recently had a powerful experience while talking to one of the women at Art and Spirituality.  I was at a table with two women when one of the ladies commented on how everyone around her was so creative, and she did not feel equally talented; she explained that this is why she was afraid to take the creative writing course offered at Suffolk House of Correction.  I was asking her about this, with the plan of encouraging her to try the course, when the other woman at the table interjected, “I took that course and I’m never taking it again.” This was another statement that I wanted to explore deeper, and before I recommended that the one woman take this course, I wanted to first give credit and respect to the fact that the other woman at the table had an unfavorable experience; it may not be a good course to recommend to someone at all.

“You didn’t like the course?” I asked the second woman – we’ll call her Jane.  She responded by sharing a very important and very touching story with me:

Jane explained that, at the age of thirty, this is her first time in prison, and it is one of the lowest and darkest points in her life. In Jane’s own words, she’s depressed. Thus, when it came to the creative writing course, Jane wrote poems that were dark and sad – reflective of her inner state. However, the teacher that led the creative writing course did not want Jane to read her dark poetry to the other participants in the class.  Verbally sharing one’s writing is part of that creative writing class, but Jane’s feelings – Jane’s truth – was determined to be too difficult to share.  She felt completely stifled and ashamed of her own feelings.  To me, it seemed like Jane was being sent the message that it isn’t okay to have negative feelings, and it’s especially unacceptable to share those dim emotions. I strongly disagree and I wanted Jane to feel validated in her emotions – both the emotions she had written about and the feelings she had about the class – so I shared with Jane that I feel like it’s important to vent your negative emotions because they are a natural part of human experience.  This started a lengthy and beautiful conversation about accepting that difficult emotions are an intrinsic part of life, and one should not be made to feel ashamed of them.

Everyone experiences sadness, anger, and other unfavorable feelings throughout their life, and sharing these feelings with others is one way we can achieve catharsis.  We feel less alone when we learn that our feelings resonate with others; there is a poignancy to life that connects all people, but the potential for that connect is lost when we are forced to quell our challenging feelings because it makes others uncomfortable – likely because they are unaccepting of their own shadow side.  It is okay to feel down, and it is okay to be open about our struggles.

— Briana Heller