Indifference is no longer an option.

I started classes last week, and while sitting in class for 8 hours twice a week is draining, the week was an incredibly affirming one. I realized that this IS where I should be right now, despite the bumps and difficulties this decision brought with it, and I began to think that social work, as a field, is much more fitting to my personality than academic research settings would ever be. I think I may have found my "people." Whatever that means.

My experience last week was somewhat defined by the "welcome to grad school" lecture one of our professors gave us on the first day of his class. His intent was to give us a broad explanation of how the values and objectives of social workers define our practice, and he did this in a way that won't leave me anytime soon. A lot of what he said was obvious, but the way he said it really woke me up a little bit (okay, a lot). He explained that, as social workers, we are primarily advocates. We are advocates for the poor, for the disabled, for the physically and mentally ill, for the oppressed. We are also advocates for the sex offenders, for the violent husbands or mothers, for the alcoholics, and for the criminals...because the primary, overwhelming goal of social work is to preserve and advance the dignity of human life. To see the dignity in every one who walks through our door. (Does this sound like what Christ meant about the least, the last, and the lost? I certainly think so).

He warned us that a lot of what we will discuss, research, and read will make us sad. It will make us angry. We'll feel guilty. We will want to throw in the towel and give up before we even start. But, he said, all of those reactions are good. "The reaction that terrifies me," he explained, "is indifference." He went on to say that the minute we decided to become social workers, the moment we set foot in that classroom, we had effectively promised that we would no longer be indifferent. The decision to enter his classroom, he said, was essentially a commitment to care, and to act on it. A commitment to not taking no for an answer when no one else will help these people. A commitment to no longer reading or hearing about a problem, saying, "how sad," and turning the page. Indifference is no longer an option. 

Ack. 

It made me think about how often I have been indifferent, and how easy it is to fall into that trap. It's sneaky, and it creeps into us slowly, without us knowing. But we can't let it stay there.

I know getting rid of the indifference disease is most likely a life-long process, but I'm excited, in an absolutely terrified way, to let it start now.

Back to school, back to school

Orientation for my grad school program was this past Friday, and I'm excited. I'm excited to feel like I'm making progress towards actually doing what I have wanted to do for a long time - there is a sense of accomplishment in taking a definitive step towards a goal, and I felt that on Friday. I'm also excited to meet my classmates and professors, although some of them define the stereotype of a bleeding-heart, granola-eating, meditating, dreadlock-wearing liberal hippie- but that's okay. I'm also VERY excited that I will not be sitting at my desk in my dull office 40 hours a week - I don't think I have fully processed the fact that I am now back in school and not relegated to staring at my computer every day. 

But most of all, I'm excited for the process. If you had approached me even one year ago and said, "Guess what, Ashley, next year you're going to decide you want to be a social worker!" I would have laughed at you and probably dismissed you as off your rocker. But over the past year, so many things have fallen into place (it's more accurate to say that they have been deliberately put into place, like puzzle pieces, but you get my drift), and this course of action seems to be the only thing that even makes sense. Funny what difference a year makes. I'm excited to see where God takes my heart, my goals, and my priorities as I'm exposed to people and circumstances that I've been blind to. 

I'm excited, but I'm also nervous, and a little scared. Scared of what God might show me, nervous about what He might ask me to do, and just a little bit petrified of what He might ask me to change. But fear is good - what would a first day of school be without a few butterflies? So here's to school supplies, crazy professors, and change.

Song obsession of the week

I can't stop listening to:

Sorry, I couldn't find a good video, but this song has literally been on repeat for a week so I had to share.

Well Mommy, Here's Your Payday

This has absolutely nothing to do with anything, but I can't stop laughing at:

Turning points

I will be the first to admit that I am addicted to the Olympics. Yes, I am a full-fledged Olympaholic. Of course the events that get me the most excited and compel me to stay up until all hours of the night are gymnastics (both men's and women's), equestrian, and swimming/diving (soccer and basketball to some extent, but I have mixed feelings about those given they have their own high-profile championships). But aside from those given must-watches, I have been known to sit in front of the television dedicatedly watching crew, badminton, cycling, track, and yes, even rhythmic gymnastics. 

I'm not quite sure why I'm so addicted to these events that I have no knowledge of and no investment in, but something about watching other people across the world pursuing the goal they have literally poured their entire lives into is addicting. While I was watching Nastia Liukin celebrate her all-around gold medal in disbelieving tears, I started thinking about what it would be like to be in her shoes, or Shawn Johnson's, or Michael Phelps'. I'm awed by their abilities and their dedication, and oftentimes I'm moved to tears by their successes or their failures.

As Nastia was focusing while preparing to mount the beam, her best hope for sealing the gold, one of the announcers said, "Imagine that feeling, to be staring at the thing that could literally change your life in the next two minutes." It's true - some of these athletes' futures are determined, to some extent, in one or two routines at this competition. Stay on the beam and nail your dismount, and you rocket to superstar status, which gives you a whole new realm of possibilities. Let a twitch of self-consciousness knock you off, and you join the hundreds of other Olympic would-be's. What an incredible, exhilarating, and utterly terrifying feeling to know that everything you have worked for comes down to this one moment - it's all or nothing. That is SO not normal. I found myself thinking, man, I'm glad I don't have to face that.

We know of course that many of these athletes go on to accomplish great things and become successful in all kinds of other arenas. But it made me wonder, how many times in our own lives do we build things up - decisions, events, relationships, jobs - to be deal-breakers, turning points? I know that I have a tendency to dramatically inflate the importance of certain decisions - if I go to this program, if I take this job, if I live in this city, it will change the course of my life. That brings with it great pressure and a lot of fear - fear of choosing the wrong thing, fear of not performing to my own standards, fear that if I choose one thing or do another, my life will take a different turn that can't be changed. 

When I live in this "make-or-break turning point" mentality, I realize that I lose the process, and that I miss things that might actually change the course of my life. Things like learning to trust, seek God's will in everything, really listen to where He might be pointing me. I'm starting to realize that life doesn't come down to turning points. While some decisions we make obviously have bigger impacts on the color and shape of our lives than others, those decisions don't determine the size or the quality of them. I'm starting to learn that I need to relish in the process of letting myself be guided and molded by the little things that happen, rather than trying to break the process down into independent increments and points on a timeline; oftentimes it's what happens in the middle of those timelines that's most important and most life-changing. 

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this or if it even makes sense, but all I can say is that I don't think I could be an Olympic gymnast.

Joshua Sure Can Dance

Let me just quickly say that I was so ridiculously happy that Joshua won last night...he did SUCH an amazing job all season, poured his entire heart into it, and has such an amazing story.  What an inspiration. I was equally inspired by his top-2 competition, Twitch, and his reaction when Cat announced that Joshua was indeed the winner. He looked so genuinely HAPPY and excited for his friend, and what an incredible picture of friendship it was when Twitch and the others lifted the winner onto their shoulders to celebrate with him. These people are so talented, and it makes me think that I can dance. Too bad that's not actually true. I realize this is rambling, but my computer is about to die and I left my charger at home...but I couldn't end the day without giving a shout-out to Joshua and his incredible victory!

The trio, the tapenade, and the Bachelor...

...That pretty much sums up last weekend, the highly anticipated girl
s' reunion weekend. Best friends reunited, wonderful food, and funny things happening on our night out. A few highlights:

• As soon as Jaz & I walked out of J. Crew to see Jessica (alliteration, eh?) getting o
  ut of her car, all three of us started laughing immediately, which turned into a group hug...just like old times. 
• Watching random videos of So You Think You Can Dance on YouTube in our PJs...it was a full-fledged sleepover.
• Reminiscing, laughing, and catching up over Cuban martinis
• People watching with the best people watchers ever
• Learning/making/eating some delicious Indian food
• Playing Sorry in Starbucks...you know you have special friendships when one of the most enjoyable times of your trip is playing an old board game and knocking each other's pins off the board over coffee. I haven't laughed that hard in a while...It must be something about those two.
• Dance/singing parties in the car to ridiculous 90s songs
• Having a screaming hug reunion with Sam & Co. in Crate & Barrel
• Having a lovely/hilarious/delicious dinner then getting ready and going out just like we used to do
• Dancing like crackheads...in the parking lot OR in the bar, either one is fine. 
• Meeting Brad the Bachelor and convincing him to take a picture with Sammy our "bachelorette." Not a highlight because he was the Bachelor and on TV (hardly) but just because of how HILARIOUSLY AWKWARD it was. amazingness

There's just something about being back with your college friends, the people who know you so very well that you can be your weirdest/goofiest/most honest with, that makes them feel like home. How amazing to just sit and talk, laugh, and be with old friends, and to learn about how they've grown. We have branched off in many aspects of our lives, and we are definitely adding new people from our respective branches to our lists of close friends, yet that just makes a reunion with the old friends that much better and more exciting. There were a few important ones missing, of course (we missed you tons!), but what a comforting feeling to know that, despite the fact that we all have changed in so many small and profound ways, "us" still means the same thing. Until next time, girls :)