My young friend is wanted for attempted murder.

I have a young friend who is accused of shooting someone. When I first heard this I was just sad. While I obviously don’t condone shootings or anything like that I immediately thought of all the good times I had with Dejon.

I care because I know Dejon. I’m not going to say he’s a perfect kid or anything. He’s done some things and made some mistakes but so have I. He’s probably done some things I know I wish he didn’t. But I know Dejon grew up with many of life’s cards stacked against him. He’s already been shot twice, he’s grown with people who should have influenced him for good encouraging him towards many of the activities people look down on him for now. Like I said, I don’t condone or excuse anything, I just know a different part of him than what a lot of people see. I know his primary Nik and my co-workers Jesse, Kallie, Steph, Sam, Abby and my boss George know this part of him. And I want you to know it as well.

In the news report explaining Dejon and Tim are wanted for a shooting, people are allowed to comment at the end. People started making harsh, and in my opinion downright immature, comments and others started firing back supporting Dejon and Tim. It’s the easy thing to do, look down on someone and build yourself up by making them look smaller or completely defend someone you see being attacked.

While those comments (and others people made) make me mad and sad I’m not here to fight one side or the other. I don’t see people who mess up as completely innocent or as a waste of a person or a “savage” as one man described these two. I just think people can know others better and not judge them completely by one mistake or a picture seen in passing. Like I said before, I want you to know the good side of this kid which most people never take the time to see.

Dejon and I went to Young Life Camp at Frontier Ranch last year and I got to see him spend a week where he just got to be a kid, away from the worries of the world, and he loved it. We both did. He enjoyed camp right along with the other kids who didn’t have a past like his, hadn’t been to jail, and didn’t have scars from bullets in their chest and leg. He flinched a little whenever the fake gun shots of the western themed camp went off which reminded me of  his past. Camp was something else for all of us and was a place where I’m reminded to see people as they were intended to be seen.

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And I wish you could see Dejon at his best, I hope he remembers those times too, and I hope maybe all the people arguing can just agree on the fact that pointing fingers and degrading each other won’t get us anywhere. Knowing someone enough to blur the line between the “us and them” way we often see life is a better way. A life of empathy changes things while a life of hostility and judging just widens the gap between everyone. Sooner or later I think this will happen and life will make more sense to us all.

Above all Dejon, if you happen to read this, I hope you know, no matter what you did, all that stuff from camp a year ago is true. You are still great and loved and good. I’m sorry more people don’t see the good in you, the way God see’s you every day. I hope you can feel the love. Hopefully I get to see you again soon.

When a cop wakes you up.

“Hey man you can’t stay here, gotta get up and move” A man’s voice told me.

I pulled my blanket off my face and looked up to the guy, he’s kind of a blurred pudgy figure until I put my glasses on and see it’s a cop. When a cop wakes you up you usually do what he says. But by this point I had been woken by cops a few times, sometimes I had been somewhere I shouldn’t be and I respected them, other times I knew I was doing nothing wrong and still respected them but with a little more sas (that’s right… I had some sas as a homeless boy)

“Sorry but why can’t I sleep here?” I asked him

“You just can’t” he responded

“Well actually there is no sign saying I can’t and I’m on private property so it’s perfectly fine that I sleep here. Right” By this point I was a little hardened and tired. “Right? I mean I don’t think I’m wrong and if I am tell me” I ask him again while standing up.

“Well, I mean uh. I just think you need to move on” I think he was surprised I was a young kid. I half expected him to put me in my place with some new ordinance or pointing to a new sign that had been hung up in the night or something.

“I’ll move on so I don’t cause you any trouble. I really hope you have a good day sir” I told him as I rolled up my mat and blanket. I really did hope he had a good day too, and I felt kind of bad for my sarcasm. I had been trying to unconditionally love on loads of people by this point (homeless, business people, cops, druggies, the creepy guy who always tried to buy me shoes, prostitutes etc). And I made a short little small talk with the cop while I packed up the rest of my things and was on my way.

As I walked a way I probably had a little more pep in my step than usual. It was actually the end of my little homeless adventure in Denver. While I told the cop it was fine I slept there I was partly thinking “Well, I’m done being homeless anyways”.

I took one more walk through town, looking people in the eye again for the first time in a while (I had been avoiding stares for a couple weeks because it is hard to know people are looking down on you so much). I wanted to remember the looks, the rejection and compare it to what was to come. About an hour after waking up I was headed to Chris’ house, then taking a shower, putting my car back on insurance, driving to get a hair cut and putting on better clothes. In three hours time I would be stopping back at this place a completely differently looking person. I looked into peoples eyes the same as I had three hours before but this time was stared at so differently. People smiled, genuinely, I was treated nicely. No glares from people sitting at tables in restaurants and no sarcastic remarks from touristy looking people.

Truthfully I didn’t know how to respond to everything at the time, or two days later eating breakfast at a hotel in Chattanooga with a man whose net worth was $50 million dollars (that’s another crazy story), or a week later talking to friends at a wedding, or months later talking to a grad school social work class. And here I am now a year later trying to make sense of it all and still I feel am failing miserably to do it justice.

I know I can say it was the greatest, riskiest, and most meaningful experience of my life. I still think about it every day especially now that I hit the one year anniversary of it all. I promise it’s not all done with. I feel something in me urging to pick it back up again in some sense. I needed a rest, I learned I need to rest sometimes while I was out there, but I know I have rested long enough now.

And in the rest, and effort, I’ve learned so much in the past year. From the road-trip through the south, multiple friends weddings, a bike trip across 5 states, a trip with greek guys down to Florida, officiating 2 weddings, working at a running company, going to young life camp, coaching lacrosse and just trying to be a better friend I can say I failed so many times along the way. And I’ve learned from it. I have learned more deeply that I am part of this world, of my faith, and everything the two have to offer each other. And I’m excited for a year from now to see all the ways I’ll have gotten to try new things, take new risks, and continue in my pursuit to be a friend to the world.

As always, never give less than your best.

Love you all and God Bless.

Book Review: The Other Wes Moore

“Two kids with the same name living in the same decaying city. One grew up to be a Rhodes Scholar, decorated combat veteran, White House Fellow, and business leader. The other is serving a life sentence in prison for felony murder”

I just finished this book today and it resonates so much with what I have seen and lived in the past two years. The story, as stated above, is about two guys around the same age, both fatherless, from the same hood, with an eery amount of similarities growing up but an ever more profound difference of where they are now.

The whole story ends up begging one question of the ways the two men turned out.

How?

Where is the promise of hope and a future? How did one kid get out, become a hero and a leader while the other fell into the victim of circumstances a detriment to society and a villain? It’s a sad and scary story highlighting many of the troubles of youth in America.

I loved Wes’ accurate and humble portrayal of his own life, mistakes and grace given to him while recognizing the same of his friend and counterpart of the story. In the end there are no real answers but a lot of questions worth thinking about to be applied to ourselves and others. To be honest it’s a book I’ve lost some sleep over but I’m glad because it’s been so important to think about my personal decisions and how I approach life but also how I give grace to others like me. How the murderer’s in jail are like me or you or your friend. It made me appreciate my freedom and grieve others entrapment to a life they never viewed as something long term. It challenges the cocky attitude I have sometimes; being proud of where I am rather than grateful of where I am not. Wes states it well when he says “The chilling truth is that his story could have been mine. The tragedy is that my story could have been his”.

Unlike many books I have read and appreciated (Love Wins, Irresistible Revolution, Crazy Love) this books digs into something more intimate than attempts at answers and walks through the real lives of families and individuals. If you are involved social work, teaching, Young Life, race issues, psychology or want a lesson in empathy I highly recommend this book. It’s also just an all around good true story.

I must say it was one of my favorite reads over the past year. A book I’m sure to revisit.

Check out Wes’ website here for more information.

Shout out to Social Workers

Today I was lucky enough to go speak to a class full of future social workers at Grand Valley State University about homelessness. I was pretty pumped about the opportunity from the get go. While I get a tiny bit nervous I love public speaking especially when it is something I am passionate about. Seeing my name next to the words “Guest Speaker” was a pretty cool sight… something I could get used to.

I got there a little early and ran through what I was thinking of talking about before going into the classroom. To be honest I stuck to my notes only a little bit before just going on about the experiences of the summer that might have had some relevance to the class. I will not lie I got caught up in a few moments sharing about some of the guys I got to know and passionately stuttered a few times. I tried my best to express the love I think we’re capable of feeling towards people who are the most down and out. I only hope I was able to communicate a little of what I feel.

I talked a while and took more than the allotted time I was given but was graciously given more time before coming to a close and getting to ask if anyone had any questions. I’ve never asked if anyone had any questions after a presentation and had anybody actually have questions so immediately after asking I started saying “and if you don’t have any ques…” when a few hands went up.

It was kinda cool. I saw they actually cared. They were more than just entertained.

One of the last questions I was asked was what my major in College was (FYI it was Athletic Training 3yrs but graduated with psychology) and if I was currently searching higher education (which I am not… at least not in a traditional manner). I felt like a bum (no pun intended… kinda). I realized I was talking to a group of people with a more dedicated and written out plan than I have. They are preparing themselves to care for people and make it their whole entire life. Something I want to do but I guess I want to do in a similar yet different way.

From that comes my shout out to social workers. The ones in the room today. The ones I’ve worked with before. The ones I will work with and the ones I will never know.

Thank you.

Thank you for going to school extra so you can care about people others have not cared about. Thanks for not complaining about it and putting in hard work on a daily basis. Thank you for showing me how to better love kids, adults, orphans, alcoholics, addicts, the abused and the abusers. Thank you for being enthusiastic in the classroom and in the real world. Thank you for being creative and loving and not losing the heart of what you do. Thank you for taking care of your co-workers when work gets tough. Thank you for putting up with the low pay and high stress. Thanks for not giving up and not giving in to what the world says would be smart/safe to do. Thank you for touching the lonely souls and listening to those who haven’t had anyone to talk to. Thank you for humbly walking in and doing some of the most important work I can think of.

I could go on and on but I just wanted to say if you are a social worker I respect, thank, and look up to you.

Keep it up. Remember you are doing amazing things, in practice and in preparation, every day.

How being a Young Life leader helped me be, be with and reach homeless people.

I remember when I became a Young Life leader. It was right at the end of May 2008 when some guys from the Fraternity I just joined encouraged me to check it out. By the end of June I had gone through a fast track of training and in July I went to my first ever Young Life camp. Ever since then I’ve been hooked. I have been to camp 4 times since then. I’ve crossed off Timberwolf, Castaway, Frontier Ranch and Pico Escondido from the list of YL camps to go to. All along the way I was slowly learning something a guy by the name of Tony Dilaura introduced me to way back in 2008 when I was just a young starry eyed 20 year old going through training.

That one thing was to “earn the right to be heard”.

That one thing has become the basis of whatever I do now with my life.

It started in Young Life and continued there throughout my time in college.

After college earning the right to be heard was really put to the test when I worked with and lived with kids at a group home. These were kids that had grown up in abuse, neglect and abandonment. For some turning to drugs, gangs, guns and anger was the answer while for most it was just their life how they had always known it.

These kids were looked down on, outcast, institutionalized and corrected by others who “know better”. People wanted to talk to them so much telling them what to do but it didn’t seem like many times in these kids life people had taken the time or put in the effort to earn the right to be heard. I was thankful to be a part of a group of people at The Dale House where a relational life where earning the right to be heard was emphasized to be a way of life rather than an exception.

Eventually the decision came to take this to where I couldn’t see it going before. To a place where there is no high school lunch room, there is no sporting event and no best week of your life at camp. A place where very few even go let alone want to listen to the people’s story who are there and take the time to earn the right to be heard.

There were a surprising amount of similarities in doing Young Life and living with homeless people. I’ve experienced the same challenges whenever my intent has been to earn the right to be heard.

The first time I walked into a high school to do some contact work I thought…

What if they don’t like me?

What if I’m not funny at club?

What if I’m the one that doesn’t fit in?

What if I can’t find the right kids?

Walking out to the streets of Denver to pursue the homeless left me with similar feelings…

Where do I go?

Who do I talk to?

Where am I going to sleep?

Where am I going to eat?

Whether it be Young Life at a high school, working at a group home or becoming homeless to reach people I wondered the same horrible thought I think we all wonder…

What if I’m terrible at this?

It’s a good fear to have. I think it’s a healthy thing to wonder so you don’t just go into others lives thinking you have yours all together.

This allowed me to go in quietly and to sit in silence and listen. It allowed someone to slowly lend me their story so that way I could go through it with them.

I’ve sat with so many adults and teens this past year. I’ve learned so many stories. I’ve heard terrible things. A girl’s life that has known little more than being raped, abandoned and then sold into human trafficking. A child whose parent killed themselves right after telling the kid it’s all their fault. A schizophrenic who no one has sat down to talk with in years. A man drinking alone in the rain who is so depressed he’s ready to kill himself. Another man who wishes someone saw one good thing about him rather than disregarding him because he’s homeless.

Earning the right to be heard often left me understanding a persons individual suffering better. Understanding pain better made me realize that the words I was planning on saying would fail and be cliche to the point that they would cause pain. I’ve learned that I can’t fix people. I don’t have the answers. I wish I did. I’ve tried to and I’ve failed. I’ve learned to stay quite more than I used to and just let someone know that I’m not going anywhere. I’ve learned to be consistent, continue to eat with people, walk through town with them, talk about baseball with them, go to their games, buy them their favorite magazine, visit them in the cafeteria or sit in sandwich lines with them just to be with them as they struggle so that they might not have to struggle alone. It’s not always the best time. It’s not always easy or profound. But when we join in that silence, in that waiting and sharing of pain and burden and people coming to know they don’t have earn your love… God is there.

Once the right to be heard has been earned it’s interesting how much less I have to say than I would have wanted to in the first place. I don’t need to say it because it’s understood.

I’m so glad I’ve been blessed to be a a part of so many people’s lives.

I’ll never forget it all started with Young Life teaching me what it means to earn the right to be heard.

What’s the point of talking?

Over the past year I’ve been a part of a ton of second hand conversations. Whether it be the time I was on the streets, laying down in a park, reading comments on a blog or sitting in a coffee shop I hear small parts of many conversations. Especially in the coffee shop I go to regularly. Given that it’s near a high school, college, seminary and homeless shelter there are a pretty eclectic group of people that gather here. Given the variety of people conversing I think I have heard a debate over pretty much everything. I promise I’m not trying to listen but people talk loud… and it’s interesting (not gonna not listen).

People putting opinion on top of opinion is usually what it’s all about. It’s not a bad thing since these opinions stack up from personal experience. I often wonder what those opinions are exactly. Where have these people come from? Why do they think these ways? What’s the point of talking so much? I don’t always agree or disagree or even care but I still wonder about these people’s lives that have led to this talk. More so I wonder what that looks like in their actual life. Where are their opinions turning into actions? Are their opinions and ideals even turning into actions?

I have to remember though that I am often the one having these conversations. People hear me too. And as much as I wonder about where they are coming from I can only assume they wonder the same things about me. If I’m going to wonder about others others I have to be a my own biggest skeptic. I have to ask…

Where are my opinions and ideals turning into action? Are they?

I have to make sure my life, my potential and my thoughts don’t end when I walk out of the coffee shop. When the conversation ends is when the stuff that really matters begins. At that point it’s not a matter of right living as much as it is a wonder of potential that leads to what we’re all pursuing. It’s the slight difference between setting expectations so you can meet them and pursuing ideals to see what’s possible.

I think we all have this natural curiosity to push our personal limits. Do we really follow that curiosity though? Personally I think it should be more encouraged than it is. It should be a way of life not just a conversation in a coffee shop. It takes hard work and dedication but that’s the stuff that makes a difference. I believe these conversations we have are good. They should happen more. They shouldn’t put our minds at ease though as much as they stir our lives into action that is based on the faith of what we believe in.

From all these second hand conversations I’ve gotten one thing. We all believe in a better way to live. If we didn’t we wouldn’t be talking so much.

We believe in helping others, feeding the hungry, reaching out to the lonely, being a better friend and showing God to the world. We believe that we can push ourselves physically, mentally and spiritually to live a better life. Those are just our beliefs and ideals though. The point of talking in this way should be to discover them. Once discovered though we can’t mistake them for a finish line when in reality they are just starting blocks. Beliefs and ideals just allow us something to push off of and move. They are not permission to stop moving.

Questions: How are you willing to live and show that what you talk about is not just talk? Are you determined to find out that what you believe in actually exists? How do you accomplish this daily?