The evening before I graduated college, my brother, Kyle, and I sat on the bench swings outside my dorm and talked of the daunting: our futures. He - still a month from graduating high school and becoming an “adult” in his own right - listened with a rare intensity as I described what the near-future held for me. August would bring me to New Mexico, a state devoid of the trees and water (I suppose - haven’t been there yet) which I so dearly loved of PA and NC. For a year, I will settle in a city where I know no one, move into a house with strangers from around the country, work at a local organization (not sure which yet - stay tuned), live on a small stipend of $375 a month, and discuss what it means to be a Christian in a world shaped by Christian, and subsequently, white supremacy.
“Sounds like a cult,” he said. Only a brother could be so eloquent. I had to shake my head and laugh along with him, because I could see the truth to it. For anyone who has not personally heard it yet - I will be spending the next year serving as a Young Adult Volunteer (YAV) with the Presbyterian Church (USA) in Albuquerque, New Mexico. So, not a cult, but I can see where the idea originates - I am moving away from everything and everyone I know to spend a year in intentional Christian community, doing non-profit work, embedding myself in the lives of local people*, and learning to live simply** on a paycheck that’s below minimum wage (don’t worry, housing is provided). When most people ask, and I describe what the next year will look like - budgeting, volunteer work, vocational discernment - some nod and smile, say that I’m “brave” or “selfless” or that they “could never” do that, others press their lips together and keep their personal (though obviously unfavorable) opinions on my gap year to themselves. Then the conversation ends. But my brother, my kind, down-to-earth, can-take-a-car-apart-and-put-it-back-together-in-an-afternoon little brother sobered up after his joke and said, “Really, that sounds tough. Why?”
Why. That’s the real question, isn’t it? The reason why you’re still reading three paragraphs in (if you are, sorry not sorry), why I’m still typing this book of a post. Why. I told you - no one is as eloquent as brothers. Mine doesn’t talk much, but when he does, sometimes he really knocks it out of the park. I’ve talked with professors and mentors and aunts and uncles, friends’ parents, people at the church I work at, people I go to church with, but none of them have asked me why. Only my brother, who isn’t a writer or a pastor or a professor but a boy-turned-man behind my back from a small town who dreams of making custom wooden cabinets and furniture***, thought to ask why. I could have asked him the same question. Why Pittsburgh Technical Institute, why electric technician, why mechanical stuff, why carpentry? I didn’t. I probably should have. I always fear that I talk more than I listen - something to keep in mind for this next year.
How am I supposed to answer that monumental question? Do I even know now? Why this? Why now? Because sometime during my four years at Queens, I realized I love people more than getting facts right or acing exams. I realized biochemistry would never fill my heart the way writing could, that science, as much as I loved it, could not engage me the way religion does. That I learned that at my core, I am a storyteller and individuals are the greatest stories of all. I wanted to be challenged by something that doesn’t have a right or wrong answer, so I moved to the creative writing program, and at the same time, I got deeply involved in interfaith on campus, so I added philosophy and religion classes to my course load. Then personal connections and internships led me to practicing ministry, combining it with youth work, social justice, education, and I loved it all and yearned for more. My mom has always called me a sponge. She says I soak up knowledge, information, stories - that I crave it. She isn’t wrong.
Why the YAV program? Many reasons. It’s all the things I love rolled into one. It’ll be a challenge in a good way. I will grow from going through it. I will meet new people, hear new stories. It gives me time to write. It gives me a break from school after an exhausting two years of pandemic learning. Actively doing something to help other people gives me hope for the world, which everyday seems to burn again. Spending time in a Christian space working towards change will deepen my faith. It’s the next best step. I could say it's my first tangible step towards my obscure future in ministry. I’m a planner, I plan things out. I’ve already started visiting seminaries and divinity schools for after this year, have laid out distant dreams of ordination and chaplaincy. The truth is, the future scares me, because I like to be right, I like to know the answer, and in life, you can’t. I can ignore that discomfort, or I can lean into it. This program is my way of leaning.
So yes, I am nervous that there isn’t going to be enough trees (I thought Charlotte was barren compared to my home in PA), that I might not get along with my coworkers or will have to sort out some uncomfortable living quirks with my housemates. I worry that I’ll be placed at a homeless shelter or a school or organization where someone will ask me hard questions I won’t know how to answer. I worry that I’ll say the wrong thing and feel foolish when I get called out for it, even though that’s the only way to grow. I fear that I took seven years of French which I will never use, and that I am now desperately trying to learn Duolingo Spanish but will never be good enough in it to say what I mean. I fear missing my friends and my family - all of the cousins who I moved to NC to be closer to and all of the siblings I made over my years here. I live for the people in my life, and I have chosen to leave them. That is terrifying. But it also means that I can meet more people, expand my definitions of family and friendship, grow my vision of what being an American, being a Christian, can mean. It’ll be a challenge, and I will be wrong at times, even though I hate it. Luckily, I like challenges just a little bit more than being right.
But all that is too much to speak into the calm evening and Kyle’s question, so I said, “I just think I need some time to work and be with people.”
“Then it sounds like you picked the right thing.” Go for home, brother, go for home.
Thank you for following me through this weaving mess of an introduction to my year with YAV. If you’re wondering if all my posts will be like this, I am wondering the same thing too. Writing’s funny in that it’s something that happens to me, not because of me. (Hello from 3:00 am Allison who’s been struck by insomnia this week. 🙃) Additionally, if you’re wondering why my brother features so strongly in a post about my future, I have this to say - my story is as much the stories of the people in my life as my own. So, in whatever form the next post may come, you can rest assured that there will be some other characters featured. It’s my way of painting - and loving - them. Anyway, thank you again for reading. I am so excited to go on this journey with you, and if you’re interested in donating at all to support my year, please click the link below and select my name from the drop down menu: https://www.abqyav.com/donate.html.
Rest in grace,
Allison
*We are encouraged to become as much a part of the community we live in as if we were permanent residents. This means getting to know neighbors, local churches, and attending community events in addition to befriending our co-workers and housemates.
**Part of the intention in the YAV program is to encourage people who have never had to think really hard about money (and I am one of those people) to experience what it might be like to live on minimum wage where most of your paycheck goes to housing. Whatever is leftover, which would be what my stipend reflects, must be split between food, transportation, amenities, and savings/spending. It is important to acknowledge that this is a lifestyle I am committed to living for a year to learn first-hand how others experience living on a budget in America. At the end of this year, my life can return to “normal,” but other people do not have that privilege. It is also a time for me to evaluate what is really important to me in life, and how I put my money towards it. I do not take this lightly.
***If anyone is in the market for such items or knows someone who does similar work and might be interested in having a chat with Kyle, please reach out and let me know. We all say “I’m proud of you” and “I love you” in funny ways, and mine is endlessly networking on his behalf. I am very proud of him. Here’s an interview of his with the local paper :,) - https://digital.olivesoftware.com/olive/odn/tribunereviewvalleynewsdispatch/shared/ShowArticle.aspx?doc=TVND%2F2022%2F06%2F21&entity=Ar00204&sk=35CC9C03&mode=text#=undefined