Now that I'm back, I've been doing a lot of the same kind of reflecting on my year in Ecuador, and what I'm going to do with that going forward. One thing I keep coming back to--one of the most powerful parts of the retreats, in my opinion--is taking the retreatants to Nuevo Mundo to meet Patricia McTeague. Pat first came to Ecuador as a nun in the late 60s, and she saw education as the tool to empower Ecuadorians to lift themselves out of poverty. In the early 80s, after a whole lot of "now's not the time" answers from the church/nunnery, Pat quit the sisterhood, partnered up with Sonya Rendón, and with $4,000 started the Fundación Nuevo Mundo in Sonya's parents' house. Today, the morning school offers the best education money can buy to Guayaquil's elite, all while subsidizing the education of hundreds (thousands over the past 30 years) of kids from the poorest areas of Guayaquil.
Seeing the impact this school has had on countless families, students, alumni, etc. is enough to inspire anyone, but talking to the founder herself can literally be a life changing experience. In not so many words, Pat is a bad ass bitch, and she does not pussyfoot around what she expects out of people. Her favorite statistic to throw at retreatants (most of whom come from expensive private Catholic high schools and universities) is that only 1% of the world's population gets a college education. Pat asks each student individually "What are you studying?" "What do you want to do when you graduate?" and "How are you going to change the world?" Heavy shit. Coming from someone who actually is changing the world, these questions carry weight.
Being in this 1% is a gift, a privilege--without a doubt--but for Pat, it's so much more than something to be thankful for. It's a goddamn obligation to use that gift, that privilege, that power to do what that other 99% can't do to make the world a better place. 99% of the world--maybe more--will never have the opportunities we have. That is the status quo--the nature of the unjust world we live in. Being in that 1%, though, we have the opportunity, the power to speak and act for those who can't. To work for a more just society, where maybe one day 2% or--God forbid--3% can get a college education.
And then Pat gets all serious and tells them something like "I'm old. I'll be long gone before you start doing something with your life. But I know I'm going to heaven. So when you get there, and you didn't do anything to make the world a better place, and you say 'I didn't know what I was supposed to do,' I'll be there, and I'll tell you. Yes you did. On this day in 2011, in Ecuador, the crazy bitch with the white hair told you what you had to do."
I've heard Pat bring down the wrath of God on at least 1/2 a dozen retreat groups, and every time I get a little lump in my throat when she gets to the "I'm telling you today what you have to do" part. You don't have to be Catholic or even believe in heaven and hell to get the point. We are that 1% who have the education, who have the power. Whether it feels like we can make a change or not, the fact is we can--if we choose to. Pat listened to her heart and did what she knew was right--not what the nuns or everyone else expected of her.
So, just as the retreatants reflect on their 7-10 days in Ecuador, here I am reflecting on my 365 days. Thinking about what Pat McTeague said--what am I gonna do to change the world? Thinking about working at Nuevo Mundo--the kids I taught who work way harder than I ever did, but don't have anywhere near the number of opportunities that I had. Thinking about the struggles of poverty--abusive husbands/fathers, teenage moms, non-existent healthcare, kids who can't go to school because they have to work, and kids who can go to school but are in a classroom with eighty other kids. But mostly I'm thinking about all the friends I made--the people who opened their homes, opened their lives to me this year. Shared their joys, struggles, laughter, and tears with me. Faces I will never forget. Thinking about going back to visit these friends, and what I'm going to have to say to them. What did I learn from this year I spent with them, and what am I going to do about it?
Don't worry, I don't have any answers yet. Not even close. Right now I'm just trying to get settled back in San Francisco (ask any of my former students, and they'll tell you where the best city in the world is). But these questions aren't going anywhere. And I'm never going to forget this year.
