01-10-2009 - Traces, n. 9
USA/STUDENT YOUTH by Annemarie Bacich Driving from the Minneapolis airport, past signs for the Mall of America, into a vast expanse of Wisconsin countryside with nothing visible but a low slung amber moon, Fr. Franco Soma, a teacher at Georgetown Visitation High School in Washington, DC, glanced into the dark outside and wondered aloud, “Where the heck are we?” as he tried in vain to pinpoint on his Blackberry the location of the red Suburban that carried him and five other adults along an unlit stretch of country road to the location of the 2009 “GS Equipe.” Not a teacher workshop. It is difficult to describe where you are when you are attending a “GS Equipe” because an event that brings together nearly 40 adults who work with teenagers from across the country and as far north as Canada, late on a Friday night, after an intense week of work, to a retreat house in the boondocks of Wisconsin, defies the standard categories of American thought regarding adults who “deal” with teenagers. This is not a teacher workshop; the adults here include parents and scientists, a dentist, a college student, a parish music director, and a high school principal, to name a few. Nor is this a “leadership camp”–there are no leadership strategies or responsibility-building techniques taught here. As Fr. José Medina, the U.S. responsible for GS (the name given to members of Communion and Liberation at the high school level) told the adults on Friday night, “We are here together to help one another grow in certainty and maturity. Our kids will grow only if we grow. Our kids will be helped in their journey of certainty if they witness our certainty.” Starting from a wound. Pointing to Marcie’s experience, Chris responded, “In a moment like the one that you were living there... is then when you have the clearest awareness of how everything actually stands. This is the challenge for all of us. The truth of our existence is this powerlessness... So the problem is not to cover the wound, but to begin to judge according to that wound, to start from the wound, that I may find what continually answers it.” Work continued well into the afternoon, but people left the hall refreshed, enlivened, and accompanied. It was the kind of work that expands a person’s humanity, in contrast to the weight of intellectual spinning. The afternoon was dedicated to discussion about the individual communities around the country. How was the work on the School of Community, the weekly catechesis with the groups of students around the country? What was seen happening with the kids in the communities? Are they being helped to make judgments? The afternoon discussion continued in light of the day’s work. The nitty-gritty specifics of the individual communities could not be faced outside of the discoveries made during the day. They were part of the journey, as Fr. José recalled: “When we talk about experience and judgment, we mean that our experience is the capacity to compare everything to the ideal, to compare every circumstance, every relationship and action to this and to see how it fits with it. It is not an intellectual discourse that you need to engage in. It happens in the interaction with reality.” Back home with a new urgency. Chris recalled Giussani’s method in being with students, speaking of the importance of the decisiveness of the proposal, noting that time with the kids should always be an expression of culture, charity, and mission. By the end of the day, it was clear something had taken place that exceeded the quantitative boundaries of the weekend. Terese Black from Chicago commented, “I found the weekend to be a judgment on my life, on the way I’ve been living everything and on the way I’ve been ‘doing’ the Movement and GS. I find in myself a new urgency to do this work because I really want the whole 100% of what my life could be.” And Phil Mayer from Minnesota pinpointed the depth of friendship offered by Fr. José and Chris this weekend: “I was struck by how simple it is to make a judgment; simple, but not easy, not without discomfort and even pain. I guard my heart from the very One who comes to save it because I am afraid of this pain and because I am a man of little faith. I am grateful for friends who are not afraid to tell me this. I want to grow and so I stay with them.” “Where are we?” Fr. Franco asked at the beginning of the GS Equipe weekend. Phil might have answered best: we are within the depths of Christian friendship. |