12/4/07

My amazing Grandmother passed away on December 2, 2007. She was 89 years old and an inspiration to us all and an extremely important person to me. She will be missed. The evening after her funeral, I sat and wrote this poem to her. It's not my best but it won't be my last. This is dedicated to her.


Goodbye
By Sabrina Claire Tusing

When I was little
It was never easy
To say goodbye
On those summers so breezy

I had my swing in the front
Hung with love
By a man so giant
He made the tree look like a shrub

You, You were in the house
Often sitting on your couch
Legs crossed at the ankles
Hands in your side pouch

No one will know
How much those days meant
To a little Virginia girl
Who loved her Grandma’s scent

Now that you are gone
We’ve all laid you to rest
In Heaven with all your angels
I want to let you know that you were always the best

I love you, no words could ever say
I know that you are never too far away
I will speak to you often so I hope you are listening
And until we meet again some day

I love you, Grandma, I love you.

Spin

You are who you made me to be today.
No, it's not good. It's down right distructive.
Yes. I love you.
No. I can't be with you.
We just aren't who we should be and furthermore, we shouldn't be trying so hard.
No. It's not completely your fault
Yes. I sort of want to give it a try.
No. I am sure that I won't be happy.
I'm uncertain.
You are unsure
We are unhealthy
I just want to forget
You are making it too hard for me
We need to be no more.
I want to forget.
you want to love me
We had our time.
Good-bye.

Where I'm From

A Place that is clean and smells dry and fresh
I hear the breeze race through the trees and the water crashing against the hard and moss covered rocks
I see tall seemingly untouchable pines that last forever and the houses with the view of the great mountains and the pacific waters.
I taste home grown. I taste what his hands have touched. I taste newness and unfamiliarity.
Here is where I touch and I know not what I feel. It's surroundings seem familiar enough yet feels the way it should. I touch distance.


This is a poem I wrote while I was on retreat two weeks ago. It somewhat reflects my two homes both in Virginia and British Columbia.

Nearly There....

I am nearly at the end of my 4 1/2 year journey and ending another semester of greatness. I sit here in my little room on the 3rd floor of 836 Taylor Street in the Northeast of Washingtin, DC and I nearly tear up. My roommate is snuggled in her top bunkbed getting some Z's and housemates are leaving one by one for Thanksgiving break. Normally, Thanksgiving is like a god-sent while I'm in school, because you know you only have basically 2 weeks left of class after Thanksgiving, but for me, this Thanksgiving seems very different and to be honest with you, I don't like the way it makes me feel. Just like I shared my life with 24 people in the fall of 2005 with my journey to Europe and Africa, I yet again, became vulnerable to 16 new souls this semester in yet again, a different environment. I love the feeling of being stretched and pushed to my limits in these new places, but when these expeirences come to a conclusion I'm completely crushed, it's so nostalgic. How am I different from when I walked through that back glass door in August? I recall my first encounter with Hillary and Kim and faking my confidence to cover up my uncertainties. Going to my internship for the first time and class at Trinity. Who have I become since those early days? What do i want to strive for? These are all questions I ask myself now along with the obvious of "where am I going to work?". I sit here tonight and I think of who is around me and who has embraced me and I realize that I made the right choices. The women who showed me that it's ok to be vulnerable and who was understanding and shared her own life with me and shared that it's ok to not be perfect but to be true to yourself and to take on life head on. She'll never know how she has effected my life thus far. A Goshen girl who challenged me and faught with me, but turned around to give me the biggiest hugs on earth and still loved me after any argument. The Ethiopian/American couple that showed that love is real and possible in this world. The compassion of the numerous social work majors in this house who all have the biggest hearts. And of course a roommate that just really balanced me out. The list could go on and on but in a nutshell, I'm just saying that these people and the people that one surrounds themselves with are what make you who you are. I'm almost positive that I'm not ready to let go of my college years, but it doesn't matter what I think or want, it's still ending and I will be thurst into the work force with blinders only slightly lifted.

Perhaps these feelings of nostalgia are only arising because this is, infact, my last semester of college. I don't really know? I do know that I wish I weren't so sad about leaving. I wish I weren't so unhappy about going back home but I do have a bright future in Europe (hopefully) and where ever my life takes me. I am almost sure that my college career isn't over yet, I never ever ever thought I would think about doing graduate school, but it's a definate choice.

I will update my blog again later this week after Thanksgiving.

The photo above was taken this past weekend at our house retreat to Rolling Ridge, in West Virginia. The retreat was built and started by the same man who started the WCSC program, Nelson Good. This is a photo of my house mates and my professor on a little hike that we did on Saturday. This was one amazing place that gives me a little something to look forward to when I go home.

Cafe Sureia

Mmmmmm. Chai Tea. They claim that it's the best in the city. I'm here to confirm that it's my new favorite chai tea ever on the face of the earth. I've only been around for a short number of years, 24 years and 7 months to be exact, but I am loving this chai tea! Cafe Sureia is located in my neighborhood, Brookland, which is in Northeast Washington D.C. Not upscale by any means, but not the slums. (Brookland that is) We have, one organic grocery store that is fun, a few gas stations, a metro stop, a drug store, a few carry out joints, a very hazardous hardware store (that is another story for another time), anyway, you name it, we can probablyl find it in Brookland.

Cafe Sureia is owned and ran by a family of Ethiopians, I love them. They know me, they are sweet and friendly, and by the looks of things this Saturday afternoon, they make pretty good business. I'm sure there is a success story waiting to be told here! The picture I have posted is a goofy picture of my good friend Melissa and I enjoying a study break while we are at the cafe. This is one of the many places in the city that offer free wifi, so it's nice to come here and get out of the house, but not be too far away and NOT have to use your travel money...but use those two feed that momma gave ya to get here! Here you can purchase, breakfast or lunch. The only downfall, which for me is HUGE, is the fact that they close at 6pm. I'd spend all my money here if they were open late at night....perfect little place to come when one is bored for sure. They have a bathroom...so basically, all that anyone needs to survive: chai tea, food (breakfast or lunch), bathroom, wifi, tables, chairs, couches, ect.

I have about a month left here in NE DC before they kick me out. Uh-so sad. This morning when I was walking to Sureia, I was walking alone up the 12th street, and I am always amazed at the fact that I really just love the city. I love the feel of always something happening, even if I'm not a part of it. The cars zooming past, the crosswalks, the people, the sidewalks. I love it. I feel as though I'm closer to reality when I'm in a city. I'm aware of this world here. Aware that homlessness is real, poverity is real, hunger is real, violence happens all the time, life is possible without a car, a large home, or television, and public transportation is the common part of everyones life. I'm actually tearing up thinking about leaving here. This was my first chance to live in a city for longer than 2 or 3 weeks and I unknowingly fell in love with this place I used to call a dump. I've become so much more interested in my country while I've been here not only because decisions are made that effect my whole country no more than 15 minutes away from where I sleep at night, but because people here thrive on it. They breathe it each and everyday at my work, at my house, and school. Washington D.C., despite what so many people think, has the class of the north and charm of the south. A perfect balance for someone just getting their feet wet in a big city. There are, of course, things that no big city can compinsate for the smaller community that I grew up in. Friendliness always go a long way anywhere you go, but it sometimes doesn't help in a larger city, even the southern charmed D.C. but you do, however, find those who are friendly and are willing. There is still a lot of hope for this city yet!

Well. I will add more and edit this entry, but I am being distracted at the traffic outside the window of the cafe. I'm such a people watcher! :)

Lincoln Park

As a house of 15, we are all a part of two courses that are taught by an EMU professors, who lives in Maryland (which is about 10 minutes from our house). Each week we either meet in the basement of our house which serves as a class room or multipurpose room or we go out in the city to look at art work or culturally historic sights. This past Wednesday the group went to the Southeast, to Anacostia. If you are at all familiar with the District, you would know that Anacostia is probably the worst section of D.C. and for some very interesting reason (which is unknown to me) the Smithsonian decided to put a museum there. Unlike ALL of the Smithsonian Museums, this one is very small, but it's about the history of Anacostia which is very rich and somewhat sad. Instead of going into too much detail, you should probably just check it out online for yourself. In a very shortened verison, Anacostia, like most of our great land, was occupied by Natives who lived in that marshy wet land and farmed it without trouble, until the wonderful white man decided to ruin it and come and take over the land. Basically from that point on, Anacostia went down hill. It's a very interesting area full of rich and intersting history.

The other highlight of our trip that day was to Lincoln Park, which is almost an unknown little park in Northeast. Lincoln Park has the large statue that you see here in this blog, of Abraham Lincoln and a former slave, during emancipation. In President Lincolns hand is the Emancipation Proclimation. The slave, is receiving his freedom, though he is still bowing under the President. This park is small but beautiful and it's interesting to note that most of the people in the park are people of different racial backgrounds who are serving as nannies. They bring the children to this park to play. It seemed like a very safe place, right in the middle of Washington DC.

I enjoy going on this little trips for the educational reasons. My professor is very knowledgable and she is fun to listen to, but my favorite thing to do is drive around in the city. I'm learning where I'm going and where I'm at and I do very well in traffic and directions. I feel as though time is flying by so quickly and that makes me very sad. My time is limited in DC and my free time is VERY limited with my internship and three classes. I do manage to find time to go and do fun things and see fun sights. I could see myself living here in D.C. maybe? If i found the right job.

Just to get you up to date, I'm working at WPFW 89.3FM it's Washington D.C.'s Pacifica Radio station. If you have ever listened to ANY good talk radio show, you would have heard of Democracy Now! With Amy Goodman, that is producted on Pacifica Radio in NYC. She started here at MY station. We have jazz, hip hop, and all sorts of good music at the station, plus numerous talk shows. It's a good place.

My journalism class is going well, I think. I'm making pretty good grades which is exciting. I'm becoming a little sad that this is my last semester at school, only because life without school seems so dull and redundant. Life goes on and people grow up and get jobs and families and all that stuff. I guess I just don't want to do anything of the nature. I guess I'll have to conform to the norms. Hopefully I can put a twist on things.
I'll write more in a few days. Must get some rest...I have a busy week!

A CITY IS A CITY

I'm sitting in my room, trying, but not too hard, to do some homework. My desk is positioned to look out the window to our backyard. There is an alley that runs to the side of our house and behind and often times people walk through these alleys and of course, cars make their way through. Since the house is so close to Catholic University, The National Basilica, two Theological schools, and the Franciscan Monastary, it's nothing out of the ordinary to see Monks, in their black robes, walking past the house and on the streets. There is something of beauty about the city and the people that inhabit it. I don't associate Washington D.C. with monks as much as I would with, Taize, France or some larger city in Europe. So when I see these Monks walking on Sunday morning or to and from class or mass with their bookbags, I crack a smile of delight because a city is a city. Yes, of course, Paris is different than Washington D.C. New York is different from say, Frankfurt, but people who make up these cities generally are the same.

Clearly my nostalgic self is just in a reflective mood. I realized yesterday that I have been in D.C. for a month and the time has just flown by. My time here is short and that is so disappointing, but at least I know that this is one more city on my list of favorite cities. I'm reminded everyday as to why I can't see myself being anywhere else but in a city in a small little one bedroom apartment enjoying life.