Phoenix 2013

Every two years, Mennonite Church USA holds a week-long convention.  This summer's convention is being held in Phoenix, AZ, beginning on July 1st.  I grew up going to these conventions with my family, and later, my youth group.  The most recent one (Pittsburgh) was the first I had missed in as long as I can remember, so my last one was Columbus in 2009, when I was fresh out of high school.  At that time, I had an opinion on immigration but not much to back it up.  I had very little awareness of church politics.  I would have called myself a supporter of gay rights, but I had no openly LGBTQ friends.  I hardly knew what Pink Menno (http://www.pinkmenno.org/) was until convention week was over.

Four years later, much has changed.  Now I've spent time on the US/Mexico border and in Central America learning about immigration, its causes, and the lives it impacts.  After having attended a Mennonite college, I'm more in tune with various struggles within the church.  And this time around, I'm attending convention with Safe Space, EMU's club for support, advocacy, and dialogue among people of all sexual orientations.  We'll be working alongside Pink Menno to create inclusive spaces and to foster storytelling as a means of understanding one another.

Convention is quickly approaching, and I'm hopeful for what will happen there.  I look forward to connecting with people and seeing firsthand the intersection of several big topics I care tremendously about.  I'm a little hesitant too though.  From the friends of mine who went to Pittsburgh two years ago, I heard a lot about how tiring/angering/saddening a week it often was, how frustrating it was when even in "conversation rooms" people refused to listen.  I pray for patience and an open heart for myself, and for everyone there may it be a week of learning, reconciling, loving rather than shoving our opinions down each other's throats.  That would be ideal.

Cross-Cultural Continues

This past weekend, between hitting up Guanajuato, a huge Mexican grocery and restaurant (Indianapolis people, they have massive tortas for $4.  Do it.), going to church in Spanish, stopping in at a Latino festival, and visiting a largely Hispanic indoor market, I found myself wishing my Spanish and/or cultural bravery were not so rusty.  How easily I forget what it feels like to be a minority or to fumble around in a language that's not my own.  Even in these places, how easy it is for me to use English and know that someone else will compensate.  And how easy it is to come back to the rest of Indianapolis, to the familiar, to where I don't stick out.  :/