Where I Stand, Or Maybe Sit

My name is Chelsea Williams and I am not afraid to say that I am currently not proud to be an American. Before you get up in arms, do you realize how cool it is that I am able to say that? In a world that is home to nations such as North Korea and Russia, where expressing dissatisfaction is similar to putting a target on your back, I am able to state that I am not proud of my country without putting myself in danger. At least I think so (Hey, NSA). I’d also like to stop you once more and say, while I am not proud to be an American at this point in time, I recognize that I am incredibly lucky to be an American. There are many places in this world in which my rights would be nonexistent simply because I am a woman. Yet, I get to live in a country where I am allowed to speak my mind, drive a car, vote, among so many other rights. I am indeed lucky. I practically won the Birthplace Lottery.

And part of my winnings is that I get to speak up when I think things aren’t going well. I am able to lobby my elected representatives and give them information about how their constituents would like to be represented. I am able to vote. I am able to shout into the void via a blog post and hope that it sticks somewhere.

In the last few weeks, you may have heard about Colin Kaepernick choosing to sit while the National Anthem played at an NFL game and the backlash he has received. If not, here’s an article for you to read. We’re at a time in history in which Donald Trump, a white man, can use his platform to state that America needs to be made great again and be met with applause. However, when Kaepernick, a man of color, executes a peaceful protest with the same message, he is first met with hate and vitriol.

But this isn’t about Trump or Kaepernick. This is about bigger issues. America, what are we doing?  We often pride ourselves on being the country in which citizens can speak up and out. We often prove ourselves wrong during situations such as these. I don’t know that America ever has been great–we have a long history of questionable morals–but I believe that we can be. And I want us to be. I want this country to recognize the great diversity that exists here and celebrate that diversity instead of viewing it as divisions.

The first step in solving a problem is recognizing that there is a problem. I wouldn’t have guessed that, in 2016, a quarterback’s actions would be sparking conversation about racial justice in America, but here we are. Now we get to decide how to move forward, engage in healthy and respectful discussions, and create partnerships, in order to bring about equality. I am optimistic that this can be done, and American will be great.

 

Chelsea Williams

NOAH (Networking, Organizing, and Advocating for the Homeless)

GMF US-2, Class of 2015

#3022062

Giving Up

At commissioning in July of last year, my fellow fellows and I were asked to announce one thing that we would be giving up as we became young adult missionaries. Some of the things given up included winter for one of the missionaries moving to Tucson, Arizona, feelings of inadequacy for others, and the comforts of home for myself. However, I may not have entirely given these up, considering that I just returned from a trip home, spend at least two nights per week talking to friends from North Carolina, and have on average seen friends or family once a month since moving. Life is Detroit, MI hasn’t been entirely comfortable, but I still enjoy many of my home comforts that I claimed I was going to give away.

As I reflect on my time as a global mission fellow, there are a few things that I realize I have given up:

• Misconceptions of those who are experiencing homelessness as lazy, unable to make good decisions, etc.
• The picture of Detroit as a crumbling city
• My old belief that all missionaries were blue-eyed, blond-haired, and only in the business of soul-saving
• Ignorance of issues plaguing the most vulnerable populations in our country and world

And there are so many more. My beliefs that Detroit was a scary city, falling apart at the seams, made me incredibly nervous to move here. Now that I’ve been living and working here for seven months, I know that this city is vibrant and home to thousands of individuals who are proud to call it home and make it great. Prior to working at NOAH (Networking, Organizing, and Advocating for the Homeless), I had some pretty embarrassing ideas about our brothers and sisters who do not have stable homes. By giving these up, I have gained relationships with the guests at NOAH, and know not to judge anyone by where they’re at in life. These misconceptions of mine made it hard for me to be excited about moving to a new home, difficult to proudly claim my status as a young adult missionary, and blind to how the world mistreats those who it should tend to with great kindness.

Some may say that giving up is an option you shouldn’t choose, but I disagree. There’s nothing wrong with giving up, as long as you’re giving up beliefs and ideals that are holding you back.

 

Chelsea Williams

NOAH (Networking, Organizing, and Advocating for the Homeless)

GMF US-2, Class of 2015

#3022062

Feasting on Love

I am not an elder (fancy word for pastor) in the United Methodist Church and I probably never will be. This means that I am not able to consecrate the elements served in communion. As a lay-person, I can only help the pastor give out the bread and the cup, telling whoever comes to the table that the body of Christ has been broken for them just as the blood of Christ has been shed. Communion is my favorite sacrament. The idea that I can be filled with God’s love is astonishing to me. Something as simple as eating bread soaked in grape juice representing Christ’s sacrifice for me? Awesome.

Although I am not an elder, I am able to serve an unofficial communion during the week at the NOAH Project in downtown Detroit.  Monday through Thursday anywhere from 150 to 300 individuals come through our doors to receive social services and lunch. I, along with volunteers or other staff members, pass sandwiches, brown bags, and cups of whatever our guests would like to drink through a kitchen window.

Sometimes, I’ll admit, it can be difficult to think of my position as part of what I would call “ministry.” Sandwiches and juice as ministering to the aches and pains of what our clients, some of the Detroit Metro area’s 34,642 homeless individuals, go through on a daily basis? Sure, whatever. Until those brown bags turn into deeds and I no longer need a job because all of our clients are housed, can I have truly made a difference? Then I think, maybe it’s not my job to find a place for every face I see in a day. Perhaps, simply caring enough to give a lunch and smile can make a significant enough impact on someone’s day to let them know they are cared for.

Too often our clients are told that they are not enough. That they don’t deserve much because they aren’t worth much, and I can’t even begin to count the ways in which that belief is wrong. With every sandwich I’d like our clients to know that it is the body of Christ broken for them. And with every Styrofoam cup of bright red fruit punch, or coffee, or hot chocolate that Christ’s blood has been shed for them. The love and grace of God cannot be reserved like tables at a five-star restaurant. They are given freely like ham, turkey, and bologna sandwiches from a kitchen window on the second floor of a church in downtown Detroit.

---

Chelsea Williams

NOAH Project, Detroit, MI

US-2, Class 2015

#3022062