Life Lessons from a Fallen Cactus

Last April, Jamie (the other US-2 serving in Tucson) and I moved into the parsonage of St. James UMC. Before we moved in, someone (I don’t know who) was hired to clear up the brush that was invading the driveway. This “brush” included a cactus. When we moved in, I looked at the driveway and thought, “Weird. Whoever cut up that cactus just left the pieces lying on the ground. Maybe they didn’t have the right tools to move it safely and will come back and take care of it soon.” I mentioned it in passing to our St. James parsonage contact.

A few weeks later, the cactus pieces were still lying in our driveway. I brought it up a bit more forcefully to St. James and was told it would be taken care of. Nothing happened. A few weeks later, the city was doing a brush and bulky collection. I brought the cactus pieces up again and offered to take care of it myself if they would provide the proper equipment. I was told I didn’t have to do that and that it would be taken care of. You get the picture, right? Nothing happened, and, after a while, I stopped caring. The fallen cactus was just something I made sure to warn visitors about along with the huge potholes on our dirt road.

Last week, I hired a couple METRO kids to come clean up our rock garden (Jamie and I refuse to call it a yard since it’s pretty much just dirt, little rocks, and weeds). I went to a local hardware store to buy some gloves and a couple tools for them, and I thought, “Why don’t I find out if there’s something relatively cheap that I could use to finally take care of that cactus?” So I ended up walking out of the store with gardening gloves with a thick neoprene coating over the palm and fingers – apparently the nonporous material helps keep cactus spines out.

On Wednesday morning, I tackled the cactus. Did you know that when pieces of a cactus break and fall off, they take root where they fall? I didn’t. Figuring out the best way to tug while gripping the cactus very carefully was a “fun” experience. Also, neoprene doesn’t do all that much to keep sharp pointy things out. Finally, as I looked at other cacti that weren’t infringing on the driveway, I realized that they all looked like they’d grown, fallen over from their weight, taken root, grown again, fallen over, etc. I have no idea if this is actually true, but it seems like falling over is just part of this particular cactus type’s life cycle.

Oddly enough, carefully removing a cactus from the ground and carefully transferring it to the dumpster became a somewhat meditative experience. I started coming up with “life lessons” that could be learned from the fallen cactus in front of me, so I’ve decided to share them with you. Yes, they may be a bit far-fetched, but it was seven in the morning…

Life Lessons from a Fallen Cactus

• Don’t leave a job half-finished. I don’t know why the person who originally cut up the cactus didn’t dispose of it. But, if they had finished the job, I wouldn’t have had to uproot a cactus. From now on, I will picture my jobs and responsibilities as cacti; if I don’t take care of them, I’m leaving a cactus in someone else’s life that they will have to uproot and clean up themselves.  That’s not nice.
• People, like cacti, have spiny defenses. I know I do. It’s important that I treat the vulnerabilities of others carefully, with consideration and respect. That way, no one gets hurt.
• Sometimes, we fall over from the weight of our burdens.
• That’s okay.
• We can take root where we fall and grow again.

Catherine Shaw

The METRO Center of Tucson

Tucson, AZ

Global Mission Fellow US-2, Class of 2015-2017

Advance #3022108

Let’s talk about…you know.

Last weekend I attended Mission U, a United Methodist Women event. Mission U is an annual event that offers courses on various mission study topics. The course I attended at the southern Arizona Mission U discussed the Bible and human sexuality.

The class and discussion were interesting and occasionally hilarious (spend two days discussing sex and sexuality with forty women 60 and over, and you’ll see what I mean). I disagreed with some arguments, agreed with others, and heard some new ideas. But the most surprising and transformative part of the weekend for me was that I was at a church in a room with Christians talking about sex and sexuality.

My parents never talked to me about sex or sexuality (which, admittedly, would have been super awkward). I managed to miss sexual education in school because we moved before my old school held it and after my new one did. My youth pastor never addressed it. There was no one in my life with whom I felt I could discuss these topics. True, as a single young person, one could argue that I didn’t need to be discussing sex or sexuality with anyone, but I disagree.

In the U.S., sex is a very present and prevalent cultural influence. Books, music, movies, art, theater, the media, etc. all offer multiple and varying opinions on sex, but the church offers either silence or the words of people like Mark Driscoll, who referred to women as “penis homes.” I believe that the church’s silence needs to end; it needs to begin a conversation about sex and bring sex out of the darkness into light.

I definitely understand the impulse to remain quiet. Sex can be an awkward topic, and people, especially church people, prefer not to talk about things that are uncomfortable. It took me years before I could just say the word “sex” instead of whispering, “you know…sex.” On top of that, Christians have been conditioned for centuries to view sex as shameful and dirty, to stuff it in the closet, and to keep it in the dark. (Side note: You might say that the church affirms married sex. But does it actually? Have you ever heard a leader in your, or a, church affirm married sex? I haven’t. All I’ve heard is that premarital sex is bad and that one should wait until after marriage to have sex. That isn’t exactly saying that married sex is a good thing.)

So why do I think the church needs to start talking about sex? First, So that Christians, especially young ones, have somewhere to go with their questions, unlike me. And let’s face it – unless you’ve home-schooled your children and also denied them all access to the outside world, by a certain age they’ve heard something about sex, and they will have questions. It’s a given in this day and age, at least in the U.S. If the church has nothing to offer in response to those questions and doesn’t even provide space for the questions to be asked, then people will find their answers in popular culture or in people like Mark Driscoll. I, personally, am not okay being seen as a penis home. So please, let’s talk about…you know…sex.

Catherine Shaw

The METRO Center of Tucson

Tucson, AZ

Global Mission Fellow US-2, Class of 2015-2017

Advance #3022108

Biosphere 2

A couple of months ago, I went on a trip to Biosphere 2. Biosphere 2 is about 30 miles north of Tucson and is a very cool place. Currently, “the Biosphere 2 facility serves as a laboratory for controlled scientific studies, an arena for scientific discovery and discussion, and a far-reaching provider of public education.” (source). As cool as that is on its own, the reason why it was built is even more fascinating. In the 1980s, a group of people (I have no idea who) thought it would be great to build a facility to explore and demonstrate whether human life could be sustained in closed ecosystems. Biosphere 2 was built with connected habitats: a rainforest, an “ocean” with a coral reef, mangrove wetlands, savannah grassland, a fog desert, an agricultural system, and a human habitat.

In 1991, the first mission began – eight humans living and working in Biosphere 2 for two years. There were problems. A lot of the animals didn’t stay in their prescribed habitats and ended up dying in the technological infrastructure underground. When building the facility, the designers consciously chose not to seal the concrete for various reasons, but they didn’t anticipate how much oxygen the concrete would absorb (I can’t remember the exact number, but it was several tons); about a year into the experiment, the oxygen level was down to around 14%, giving the mission team even more problems. And the interactions and relationships within that group of eight went…sour. (Side note: this is unsubstantiated gossip, but I heard that some team members broke the seal and snuck out to meet with romantic interests…) But, they got through it and the mission ended in 1993. In 1994, a second mission began, but they had a lot more issues, mostly related to personnel, and it ended about six months later.

Since that time, Biosphere 2 has been used as a research facility. Columbia University managed it for eight years, and then the University of Arizona took over in 2011 (there was a gap between the two). It’s been used to study global warming, soil geochemistry, the water cycle, and much more. It isn’t a closed system anymore – when I visited, there were cactus wrens nesting in the rafters.

Oddly enough, as I think back on the visit, I see some parallels between my experience in Tucson and the first Biosphere mission. Most obviously, the Biosphere mission was two years, and my term as a Global Mission Fellow in Tucson is two years. Like Biosphere project design, a lot of things haven’t gone as planned since I moved here nine months ago. Like the Biosphere mission team, I have made a lot of mistakes. But, I have also learned a lot, and my experience will impact and inform the rest of my life. (Side note: Did you know that findings from the 1991-1993 mission are being used in the Mars colony project?) Finally, the Biosphere 2 facility began as a closed system and is now an open, “flow-through” system. I’ve never been a totally independent system, nor do I live in one, but I have often acted as if that is the case. I am grateful for my growing awareness and understanding of my interconnectedness with others and my role in the systems of our society, and I look forward to digging deeper still.

If you’re ever in the Tucson area, I highly recommend a visit to Biosphere 2. P.S. Have you figured out what Biosphere 1 is yet? It’s the Earth! 😀

Catherine Shaw

The METRO Center of Tucson

Tucson, AZ

Global Mission Fellow US-2, Class of 2015-2017

Advance #3022108

 

I’m with you

A little over a year ago, I took the Clifton StrengthsFinder test, which is a test designed by (you guessed it) Donald Clifton. He was a psychologist who, after many, many years of research, identified thirty-four “themes of talent” and created the StrengthsFinder test to determine which of these themes are a person’s top five strengths. My results, in descending order, were: input, empathy, adaptability, intellection, and developer.

“I don’t think that’s right…” was my reaction when I read that empathy was my second greatest strength. So then I read the empathy theme’s “strength insights”. “By nature, you may feel honored when someone entrusts his/her innermost thoughts or feelings to you.” True. “Perhaps you are reluctant to bring up certain topics or raise specific questions. You might worry about leaving the impression that you are prying or being nosy – that is, being unduly interested in the private affairs of the individual.” Also true. Then I read that I “hear the unvoiced questions…anticipate the need…find the right words and right tone [where others grapple for words]”. Umm, no. I actually tend to flounder for words and actions along with everyone else. I’m good at listening, and I also like to listen, but usually all I’ve got to offer is something along the lines of “I hear you, and I understand where you’re coming from.  I’m here.”

I’ve found myself suffering from the same floundering for words and actions the last few years and here in Tucson as I’ve come to terms with my own privilege and heard of, read about, and witnessed the rampant systemic injustice present in the U.S. I understand, as much as a white woman of privilege can, the oppression present today in the U.S. and recognize that I have a responsibility to act on this understanding, but I too often find myself stymied by what to do next. So generally, I find myself waiting in a given situation for a clue for what comes next. And while I wait, I shut up and listen. I respond to the stories (histories, really) I hear with something along the lines of “I hear you. I recognize our shared humanity. I acknowledge and validate what you’ve experienced and are experiencing. I’m here. I’m with you.”

It is nowhere near enough, but it’s a start.

 

Catherine Shaw

US-2, Class of 2015

St. Francis in the Foothills

Tuscon, AZ

#3022108

The Desert Museum

This past Saturday (Nov. 7), I went to the Desert Museum with Jamie, the other US-2 in Tucson, and her dad, who was visiting. The Desert Museum, which I might rename the Arizona Desert and Wildlife Center, is about 15 miles west of Tucson and is an outdoor museum; visitors move from one exhibit to the next along outdoor paths, and most of the exhibits and habitats are outside as well. We were there for about three-and-a-half hours, and it was a lot of fun. As a bonus, I also learned a lot that I didn’t know 😀

We started with the reptilians, amphibians, and invertebrates exhibit (this one was indoors), and I looked at all the different kinds of snakes I need to avoid stepping on during my time here in Tucson. Jamie taught me useful saying from Bill Nye the Science Guy that I’ll share with you: “Red touches black, you’re alright Jack. Red touched yellow and you’re a dead fellow.” Catchy, right? I also learned that the growth cycle of frogs native to this area is much shorter than other places, in deference to our desert conditions.

Our next stop was the Earth Sciences Center, which we accessed by walking through a dimly lit “cave.” The walls of the cave were a bit slick, and I spent most the walk trying to remember the difference between stalactites and stalagmites (stalactites are the ones that hang from ceilings). In the mineral exhibit, I learned that Arizona is home to a large copper mining industry, and I was also fascinated by the malachite on display, which looked a lot like green foam on a rock. In the Ancient Arizona exhibit, I touched a piece of the Allende meteorite, which I was informed was probably the oldest rock I’ll ever touch.

After our time with rocks and minerals, the rest of the visit consisted of admiring native plants and animals or hunting for the animals that we were assured were in their habitats somewhere. We saw prairie dogs, a burrowing owl, a mountain lion, a great blue heron, a box turtle, beavers, otters, coati, a bob cat, and this bighorn, who I declared King of the Mountain:

We hunted for white-tailed deer, Mexican wolves, kestrels, parrots, an ocelot, and a tortoise. The black bear exhibit broke my heart a little bit; the bear was clearly visible at almost eye level, and it just kept walking back and forth between two small closed gates, trying to get away from all the loud humans and back in to what was probably a cozy cave where he/she gets fed. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth it went, trying the gates every time, just in case one of them was open this time. But they never were. It was really saddening. So now part of my brain is mulling over the pros and cons of zoos and wildlife centers like this one.

My favorite part of the visit was the hummingbird walk-in aviary; I’ve never seen hummingbirds so close. I’ve never seen one actually sitting still on a branch, but apparently they were feeling tired, because a lot of them were just chillin’ like this one (sorry, it’s a little blurry).

Like I said at the beginning, I had a lot of fun at the Desert Museum and learned a lot about this new place I’m living. The trip even gave me some things to think about, which is always good. If you’re ever in Tucson, I highly recommend a visit to the Desert Museum.

Catherine Shaw 

METRO Center, Tucson, AZ

US-2, Class 2015

#3022108