Archive for the 'Partnerships' Category

the church is not a building, or several buildings

Published
by
Joshua
on August 10, 2008
in Action, Circle Venture, Community, Creative Arts, Dialogue, Friends Projects, Partnerships and Planning
. 2 Comments

It’s funny sometimes to me when a church known for our paradigm adjustments talks a lot about buildings-and rehabs a lot of buildings.  By paradigm, I mean we understand that the church is people and we are the church.  Our buildings are practical, and they are used for much beyond just our Public Meetings or offices.   Over the past few years, we’ve done major rehabs for 3 meeting sites, Circle Counseling, Shalom House, a basement for CT on Broad, and the mezzanine for offices and kids.  Whew.  As much as that is, we have several more on the near horizon.

 

(photo of 2233 Frankford, future home of Circle Thrift by Carina Romano)

This season is filled with many opportunities for us to rehab some buildings.  We even happen to own two of them.  There is a lot of opportunity to serve, to hang together, share money, and to build in some more capacity for God to work in our neighborhoods.  Still, the church is not a building-or even several buildings.  Like we talked about at our recent Love Feast, we are part of that dwelling that God has been building for 1,000’s of years with all kinds of peoples with Jesus as the cornerstone.

So go ahead and keep being built into the place where God lives, where God can be seen and known.  It also seems good to keep practicing resurrection in our neighborhoods by making good use out of castaway structures. 

Over the next couple weeks, we’ll be focusing on 2233 Frankford Ave-Circle Thrift’s new home less than 2 blocks from her current spot.  Hopefully, on Labor Day we’ll have our human chain to move the CT inventory up a block.  Then we’ll be getting the new setup of 2007 Frankford for the next rendition including meeting/venue space on the first floor, expanding childcare capacity, a music/arts school run by psalters, and some sort of retail storefront.  We may even need to get a spot ready for our next congregation to launch in October/November in Camden!  We need a lot of prayer, a lot of togetherness, a lot of help, a lot of money, and a lot of love. 

So even as we are the church-God’s presence in the world in people-we can make some practical steps so God’s love can be felt and known by not only having more surface area…but how we renovate.   Go get ‘em! 

 

Doing Chores

Published
by
Zach Mayer
on July 18, 2008
in Community, Dialogue, Partnerships and Resources
. 4 Comments

Hopefully we all take some pride in where we live. I mean our homes, where we lay our heads down for rest, where we spend time with our family, where we eat and find shelter. Our homes can be a reflection of who we are. Some of us own our homes, others rent, some may have just a room to call home. Whatever the case, keeping that space requires care. You pick things up, put things away, take things out as you come and go, because you want to maintain your home in order to live in it.

We also have a community home, in the sense of an actual space, which includes our public meeting places at Broad and Washington and East. Here is where we interact as a community on an on-going basis. Many of us have made a commitment, a covenant, to call this our community home. A place to worship, find joy, learn to love and to do this with many different kinds of people. As we do this we create a place similar to home where we come and go, bring things in and take stuff away. There is wear and tear and we do our best to maintain the space and take pride in where we are living.

Here, I think of the analogy of doing chores as a kid. Occasionally, I had to paint a room, cut the lawn, stack firewood or others big jobs during summer break. And more consistently, I had to sweep the stairs, clean my room, do the dishes, and take care of the other daily messes that occurred. My parents often had to keep on me to do these things and sometimes had to bribe me, but in the end these things had to be done. And doing them gave me a strong sense of ownership and respect for my home.

Our communal home, the spaces at Circle of Hope that we all use, should be regarded similarly. We are all God’s children. We have been blessed with a place to call home and there will be chores to do in the course of living there. What do you do that influences our home at Circle? If you show up, it’s bound to be a reflection, in some part, of who you are. We should all be thinking about it as a home and wondering how we keep it looking and feeling like that. Because we live there, we will always be cleaning up messes, fixing doors, hanging pictures, maintaining offices and equipment. So, decide what kind of “chores” you need to do this month to care for our home at Circle.

It Takes a Village

Published
by
Rebekah
on July 3, 2008
in Community, Dialogue, Family and Partnerships
. 3 Comments

(by Rebekah, not Hillary Clinton)

So, I did a little experiment, and I found out why it takes two people to make a baby. It’s because you need at least two people to raise that kid, while managing the rest of your life! God bless those progressive thinkers who think they can do it alone, because I most certainly need you all, my village.

For those of you who don’t know, I am a single mother of a gorgeous 4-year-old girl named Eden. My pregnancy resulted from a casual relationship that wasn’t worth continuing when posed with the question of becoming more serious.

Luckily, at the same time (i.e. double life), I had been building real, healthy relationships with folks connected to Circle of Hope, and it’s those relationships that have seen Eden and me through. For instance, when I first told my friends at Circle about my pregnancy, they threw a party for me, and solidified their commitment of support. This was exactly the help and acceptance I needed to feel at a time when I was so scared and ashamed. Then, a group of other moms came together and provided me with a patchwork of childcare, so that I could work full-time for two years! For those of you who don’t know, full-time daycare can cost at least $600 to $900 per month. These women saved me money I didn’t have, and, more importantly, provided the peace of mind that Eden was in a safe, nurturing environment. Now, another group of friends rotates to watch Eden, so that I can attend cell group one night per week. I’m also grateful to have my blood-related family close by.

Mind you, I’m one of those people who likes to do life on her own, and not accept help, no matter how much sense it makes. I like to talk through issues with friends, but I like to resolve them myself. When initially discussing my single parenting with my mother, she warned me that one of my biggest obstacles would be that I would have to ask for and receive help. Surely, my mother knows me well, and I am on a growth journey of seeking out and taking extended hands.

All this to say, I wouldn’t necessarily advocate single parenthood, but having many of you as helpers, planners, observable subjects, affirmers, and grace-givers, makes the parenting feel a lot less single. This village we’ve created in Circle of Hope has been essential to Eden’s and my development…and sanity!

Why I be so hype!

Published
by
Jonny Rashid
on May 22, 2008
in Community, Dialogue and Partnerships
. 6 Comments

I recently finished three months of student teaching at Frankford High School. Frankford is a comprehensive public school in Philadelphia and was recently cited as one of the most persistently dangerous schools in Pennsylvania. I went into the experience with this knowledge and tried to make the best of what would prove to be a very difficult situation. Those three months went by quickly, even though some of the school days were painful, exhausting, and seemingly never-ending. Now, allow me to rewind a little bit to share how I got to this position.

I moved to Philadelphia to study journalism, but eventually decided that my skills would be used best in a public high school. So I read the right Jonathan Kozol books and morphed my pedagogy around Alfie Kohn, and I figured I was on the path to changing public education in the U.S. I knew these students were in terrible conditions, and I thought it was my job to give them real opportunities and to get them out of the situation that they were in. I assumed that the students would see me as a liberator. I figured I would be greeted with flowers and tears of joy. Sound familiar? Frustratingly enough, this was precisely my mentality. When the students didn’t respond to my teaching, when they were mindlessly defiant, and when I developed migraine after migraine, I really wondered, “What did I do wrong?” And that was about 14 days into the process.

Having completed my service to Frankford High School, I’m satisfied. That’s not because the PA Department of Education is now reformed, or because the School District of Philadelphia is allocating its resources better, or because the administration at Frankford High School cares about its students more. I’m satisfied because of the short conversations that I had with students that made us laugh. I’m satisfied because for every three hours of teaching, one student may have learned something new. I’m satisfied because I met 113 new people, and I now have 113 interesting relationships. I’m satisfied because over and over again I heard: “Shid, why you drawin’?”, “Why you be so hype?!” Compelling questions, indeed.

But here’s the point: I went into Frankford trying to be a savior, devoting all my energy to changing a very bureaucratic system. It did not do me well to think that it might be changed, simply through 90 days of service. What was rewarding, and what made the days go by were the relationships. While, I’m still passionate about all the big things, I’ve come to realize that the more important stuff happens on a relational level.

Sure, I’m interested in fighting for better jobs and working conditions for the world’s workers. And I certainly don’t want casinos to be built near my house. And I don’t want a racist police force to continue patrolling the streets that I walk. And I’m tired of the prison-industrial complex and wars that make the rich richer. I want to stand for what I believe in, and will continue to do so, but I’m not satisfied waking up every morning exclusively fighting those things. I want to get down to the relational level. I want to love people not just by advocating for their interests, but by listening to them and getting to know them. I want to share myself with people, I want them to see Jesus in me, I want to build connections, and make partners. At the end of the day, I’d rather get a cup of coffee with you than protest against free trade coffee. I never want the former to downplay the latter, but I certainly do not want the latter to jeopardize the former.

The convictions that I have lead me to the comprehensive public schools in Philadelphia. The need there is great, and I’ll do my best to bring hope to those schools. But Jesus, who lives inside of me, would rather see me get to know a student or a colleague, as opposed to simply getting to know the flawed education legislation. I in a very fortunate position because my deepest convictions have found a way to meet one another.

Who are you meeting these days? Why are you getting up in the morning? I’d love to talk about it over a cup of coffee sometime.

Worn out in a good way

Published
by
Rod White
on November 1, 2007
in Community, Dialogue, Partnerships and Planning
. 1 Comment

When I was talking to Eric the other day, I had to stop at one point and say, “You know, you were here when there were about fifty people in the church. Now there are about 450. That’s a good thing!” (That’s 450 in both congregations combined, for those who don’t know we are 1 church in 2 congregations and 42 cells, right now). I was sort of reminding myself, too, that it is a very good thing. Eric agreed that it has been a fun and productive decade. We dreamed we might get to do some of what we do. Having gone through the process of seeing our dreams realized, it is more amazing than we imagined! And it was hard, too.

Being changed, changing people, and working with God as he transforms people from the inside out is more than just hard. Relying on miracle everyday and then seeing them happen all the time can wear you out, but in a good way. What I mean is: it wears out my ability to not rely on miracle and wears out my ability to keep myself at the center of things. The process of watching Circle of Hope grow and change rather uncontrollably, most of the time unpredictably, has worn out my ability to claim I had a whole lot to do with it, really (although Eric and I did show up for it!). Seeing people stick with God and the church and complain and criticize even as they love and nurture, seeing them claim they can’t do it and then triumph repeatedly, seeing someone after someone resist the Holy Spirit and then give in to God’s persistent love, has just worn out my ability to doubt that God is with us. What a blessing.

Now we are blessed with changing some more. It is wearing people out. At 450 you can’t be involved in everything our even know everyone. Some leaders (like me) need to start doing things and relating differently. We need new structures (like CoHOp is building) that bring more entrepreneurs and managers into the leadership. Caring people who were comfortable with the old days need to get new insight, step up, and take their new opportunities (like Eric, and Forest, and Zach, and Tracey, and Lauren, and Jesse, and Liz and Jonny, and so many others are doing – amazing!). What is coming up next year will give us ample opportunity to step up; we’ve been trying to warn you. It could be a big, tiresome mess, as usual. How wonderful to have much more opportunity for God to be revealed.

Consider the lettuce…

Published
by
Amanda Staples
on July 16, 2007
in Action, Circle Venture, Community, Dialogue, Family, Friends Projects and Partnerships
. 2 Comments

Members of the Urban Farm team Matt McFarland and Amanda Staples are doing an internship out in Lancaster County so that they can learn some skills from people who make farming their livelihood, and bring them back to Philly to start a farm. They are saying hello to you:

When we first got out here to the farm, we were waking up at five or six, depending on how much baby lettuce David, the farmer, promised to pick for various people and companies in Philadelphia that day. Back then (in April) I could cut three pounds of baby lettuce in no less than an hour and a half. Matt wasn’t any faster. Or any slower for that matter. We’ve matured here really about the same, which is nice. David later admitted at having started me out on the weediest patch in the greenhouse just to see how I’d manage, or react. I did little of either. There were so many weeds I wanted to cry. Each handful of lettuce has to be sorted through meticulously for any weeds, aphids or really any sort of spot that someone might think looks gross. When there were really bad aphid problems we just dumped all the lettuce into big tubs of water (miserably cold water, as it was wintertime until may this year). The aphids would float off the leaves nicely and we’d go about drying and packing the lettuce. Matt and I would joke about how it’s better to leave a few weeds in there, a few aphids for that matter, so people would know it’s really organic. And even though now it can take me only a half hour to get 3 pounds of the really good stuff, I still sort through it all just as meticulously.

(As a side note I just now looked out the trailer door in time to find the white barn cat digging in our little kitchen garden for a good spot and settling in… I made quite a spectacle screaming “No! No! in a Pee Wee Herman voice for some reason, and clapping my hands so loud they sting now. I thought I’d left city cats in the city).

In the beginning we would start those early mornings with a scripture reading and end the day with lots of good stretching. Now we get out of bed 20 minutes before we have to be in the field, an hour before the sun gets up. We force a bowl of cereal and make our way up the path in the dark. At the end of the day we plop down on the couch and don’t really move until we have to cook dinner.

The work itself proves pretty meditative though, and it can be prayerful, if you let it be. I expected my mind to wander all over the place, and it does often enough. But there are some times I’m thinking about nothing but the lettuce in front of me- this leaf looks good, this leaf looks gross, this head is passable, this head I can’t believe we’re putting in the box, one, two, three, four…. Etc. Other times, mostly when I’m feeling sort of grumpy and it’s really hot out and the lettuce is starting to get wilty, I send each head into the box with a little baptism of cool spring water and a prayer. This lettuce has passed through my hands, and I want to feel the connection with the person who will eat it, and I want them to feel that with me. Still other times life and our place in it all becomes terribly confusing out in the field, as Matt and I go around flicking yellow and black beetles and all of their larvae into buckets of water so that we can have potatoes to sell and eat. What about these little guys? Are we just killing them in a competition for resources in the same way certain other people in the world are doing right now? Not to be dramatic, but seriously. No wonder people think they’re the center of it all. We decide which plant we want to grow and which we want to pluck out; the insects that help us we keep around, the rest of them, we slowly drown or stomp to death on the driveway. It’s a big responsibility we’ve been given. To participate in the animal kingdom and also rise above it; to subdue the earth enough to stay alive, all the while watching a plant get all the life it needs no thanks to us. Jesus told us, “Consider the lilies. They do not labor or spin, yet Solomon in all his splendor was not dressed like one of these.”

Two things are clear to me. First, as city dwellers, we need to see more lilies in order to be reminded that God takes care, so we can learn how to better take care of the things we all depend on for life. And second. as a country dweller, I need to move back to the city and live with people in a system that brings all of creation closely together. There is too much government subsidized feed corn separating everyone from their neighbors out here. How about instead we have food crop gardens between our row homes and we come out to work God’s newly restored land together? Or you meet us in the afternoon on your bike and pick up a box of fresh veggies that we grew for you? See you in the fall. Thanks for all your prayers. Come for a visit.

I Think You’re Awesome

Published
by
Courtney Jones
on July 12, 2007
in Community, Creative Arts and Partnerships
. 4 Comments

The Broad and Washington Events team has been partnering with two men who make up the “We Think You’re Awesome” Collective for over a year now. My friend and future neighbor, Mike Brennan, is one half of that collective and about once a month he puts on a show at BW that draws a great crowd of people- interesting souls who love art and music and have created their own community which makes their lives intertwine like a bike rider making a lazy figure-8 in a parking lot.

Most of the time, I sit at the table by the door taking money and making small talk as people come in. And praying and knitting. I pray for the people I meet, I pray for myself- that anyone who comes in the door can see Jesus working in my smile and life.

The bands at our last show were diverse and most were loud, easily filling our multi-purpose back room with brilliant sounds and emotions. Problems, Amateur Party, and Des Ark played; all bands I had never heard of and couldn’t help but enjoy. In between, people milled about, finding a cool spot to sit or viewing the art in our space. Ben White was there with me, enjoying the general atmosphere, chatting with new friends, participating in the general mission of the events team and the 12 for the next 100 team.

At one point, I found myself walking by a conversation between Mike and one of the musicians. They were discussing the great space (meaning our building- the musicians and others who attend the shows appreciate that concerts take place in such a beautiful space) and Mike was sharing how successful our partnership with him has been. During the conversation (by now I had joined it, encouraging the artist to connect with us if he wants to use the space) Mike said, “Circle of Hope has an aim for community that is similar to what many punks are trying to create.” He went on to compare and contrast what each of us are looking for speaking about how groups long for the connection that community offers.

I’m encouraged to know that someone outside of us can see that and share it. I’m hopeful that it means we can show others that loving Jesus is our sincere desire. I have been encouraged to see how our cells and the groups that expand from them to create Circle of Hope do create a safe place for me to explore and express God’s love. Our community does allow for that kind of comfort and grace to emanate over those we come in contact with- and most importantly it ensures that we are not alone in the journey.

I am glad to be a part of this community, and in turn a part of each of you.

Getting Away

Published
by
Rod White
on July 6, 2007
in Community, Dialogue, Family, Interact and Partnerships
. 1 Comment

I flew and drove madly for a week for a little “vacation.” On the way out, I spoke to our lawyer in some airport (don’t you love cell phones?). On the way back, Ben called me while I was in the Phoenix airport to offer a ride home from the airport (don’t you love children?). In between I drove through Friday traffic in LA, came to a stop in Oxnard (!), drank champagne in the Firestone Vineyards, ate a Danish sandwich in Solvang, and sweated to 112-degree heat (but it is a “dry heat” they kept saying). And we saw my mother and Gwen’s parents 79, 79 and 85. It is nice to see everyone, but I don’t really miss the West.

One of the things I did miss while in the West was you. I went to an old church filled with lovely old friends last Sunday and I could not help comparing. Here’s what you have that they don’t: 1) a surprising depth of community (the cells are so important!), 2) a sense of what we’re doing together (they were just doing what they always do), 3) youth, 4) enough anarchy to let people get moving in the direction God is moving them, 5) the inspiration to develop that having more people coming through the door demands, 6) dialogue (I forgot that most churches don’t talk too much), 7) technological savvy, 8 ) lot’s of music (and many kinds of it).

It is not that the other church was “bad.” It was certainly good enough to make me thankful for what I have been given! It made me want to dash home and say “Thank you!” to every person who makes us who we are with such passion and devotion. Thanks, especially, to the Cell Leaders, Cell Leader Apprentices and each Host/ess. It is truly amazing that Jesus found 40 teams of three (presently) to extend the kingdom of God face-to-face like we do. I’m glad to be back.

Just one word and forgotten are the heartaches

Published
by
admin
on June 1, 2007
in Action, Circle Venture, Community, Dialogue and Partnerships
. 3 Comments

by Shelley Crognale

Running a thrift store may seem like its all fun and games, but really its serious business. I vividly recall sitting in Rod’s office after agreeing to explore the role of managing the second Circle Thrift and admitting I was scared. With tears in my eyes, I expressed how risky it felt. Rod tried to reassure me, “It will be okay if it fails!” It wasn’t until much later that I realized that what I felt was the fear of success, not failure. What would happen to me if this thing took off?

I have been playing it safe for a long time. For as long as I can remember, actually. I don’t even know how to ride a bike, for goodness’ sake.

I think it’s all mixed up with living half of my childhood with a sometimes recovered, a sometimes recovering and an often sick mom. She was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 13 and died when I was 23. The process of agreeing to lead Circle Thrift on Broad, though it may seem totally unrelated, has really been healing for me. Until very recently, I had this gut feeling that God just couldn’t be trusted. He seemed nice enough on the surface, how nice can a guy be when he lets your parent suffer and die? How could I believe that he would take care of me? I have two little kids and had just quit my job to spend more time with them. Saying Yes to leading the next Circle Thrift felt like a big risk to this little lady.

But the last several months I have been astonished at how God has honored my Yes. I have five responsible, fun, amazing employees who truly exude the love of God to every person who ventures down the stairs. I have Martha, a true friend and an amazing leader. She gives me tips, advice and guidance plus perspective, passion and energy. And it still blows my mind to think of the team that got this place fixed up and off the ground. There just ain’t enough vouchers to say thanks.

Last weekend, a pipe busted and the store flooded. I am talking puddles. On Monday, Martha and Dane spent a few hours shop-vac-ing the place and my cousin Jason and I gave it a good mopping later. This was a downer, but in the end a few bags of donations were all we lost. We also found out over the weekend that we are once again the recipients of a bigtime donation from the high-end and way cool store Anthropologie. Their donation to the first location netted so much money that we started to dream about the second store. And here we are.

Lately I have found myself humming the hymn, “In the Garden” (If you haven’t heard Over the Rhine’s version of it on their album, Films for Radio, you should check it out). In it, Charles Austin Miles describes a vision he had of the scene when Mary encountered the risen Lord. In 1913, Charles Austin Miles described it this way: “I read the story of the greatest morn in history. The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, while it was yet very dark, unto the sepulcher. Instantly, completely, there unfolded in my mind the scenes of the garden, where out of the mists comes a form, halting, hesitating, tearful, seeking, turning from side to side in bewildering amazement. Falteringly, bearing grief in every accent, with tear-dimmed eyes, she whispers, ‘If Thou has borne Him hence.’ He speaks, and the sound of His voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing. He said to her ‘Mary!’ Just one word and forgotten are the heartaches, the long dreary hours, all the past blotted out in His presence.”

I have been in the dark, in the mist and felt all those things: halting, hesitating, seeking, bewildered, faltering, amazed. It took a long time to hear, but I feel like Jesus has spoken my name. And I know that I am His own.

What Can We Do?

Published
by
admin
on May 22, 2007
in Action, Circle Venture, Community, Dialogue, Family, Partnerships and Peace
. 1 Comment

By Brian Baughan

Unless my memory fails me, Ghazwa al-Doori is the first Iraqi I have ever met. We introduced ourselves at the end of one of the workshops held at the AFSC Symposium on Iraqi Refugees this past Saturday. A thirty-something woman dressed in a traditional headscarf, she had shown up to the conference with her sister, with whom she lives in New Jersey.

Ghazwa and her sister were born in the United States during a time when their father was receiving a college degree. Needless to say, they are luckier than the majority of Iraqis. I had gathered that although they had spent most of their lives in Iraq, they were able to resettle here long before things really turned for the worse back home. The story is much different for their brother and other sister, who are refugees in Jordan and face an imminent deadline on their visas. Ghazwa told me that when she talks to them on the phone, she is overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness. If only they could make it over here from Jordan, they could all cram into Ghazwa’s small apartment. But she knows that’s not in the cards. “They’re alone. We’re alone. What can we do?” she said.

Ghazwa’s story was one of several heartbreaking accounts I heard Saturday. The stats were very hard to hear, too: 750,000 Iraqi refugees are now in Jordan, 1 million in Syria, and thousands others scattered throughout the Middle East and other countries. In Iraq, there are another 2 million internally displaced people. It’s the fastest growing refugee crisis in the world, and some are even calling it the worst mass displacement in the Middle East since the exodus following the first Arab-Israeli war in 1948. Making this worse is the fact that the U.S. occupation, along with sectarian violence in Iraq, is directly responsible for the tragedy.

We all have an endless number of distractions—both pointless and worthy—that divert our attention from the human cost of the war in Iraq. As Peter Lems, head of the AFSC’s Iraq Program has observed, even the peace movement has turned blinders toward the domestic situation, as protesters have lambasted the Bush administration and bickered with others over supplemental spending bills.

It’s hard to do anything when the quagmire seems unsolvable, or the legislative measures are just too confusing. But is forgetting the plight of U.S. troops an option? Or, for that matter, the tens of thousands of Iraqis who have died, the hundreds of thousands who are no longer safe in their homeland?

The finger-pointing that accompanied the recent supplemental bill debate reminded me of Jesus’ stern words about the infighting among his own community: “To what, then, can I compare the people of this generation? What are they like? They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling out to each other: ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not cry.’” (Luke 7:31–32)

Peace-loving people can easily assume an air of righteousness, yet all the while sound like screechy, bratty kids in the marketplace. This symposium was different. I felt fortunate to be able to hear out a bunch of thoughtful, caring analysts and service workers who did not sound bratty, whose stubborn devotion remains with the least of these. It also felt good, in an ironic sense, to have my heart broken by those sad stories. I guess it was clear that this was the beginning of an appropriate response to dirges that had not evoked tears for years.*

We’re left with Ghazwa’s question, “What can we do?” One of the workshop leaders stated plainly what is perhaps the most appropriate answer, which is we do what we can. It is an approach that Circle of Hope’s close partner, the Mennonite Central Committee, has taken for years through its international relief and advocacy work, and what our congregations and Circle Thrifts are trying by providing funds to support MCC. Let’s keep moving.

Doing what we can will also be on the minds of the residents of Shalom House, a new Circle Venture mission team and peacemaking community, as we prepare to move into our new home in Germantown this July. A central piece of our mission will be to include Circle of Hope in its peacemaking work, so now is a good a time as any to share your ideas here about what’s in our power to help and advocate for the Iraqi refugees.

*Below are two interesting links that help paint a revealing picture of Iraqis who have remained in their country in spite of the chaos that has enveloped them. (Iraqis, it seems, also like to blog and post videos on youtube. Go figure.)

www.bl.uk/iraqdiary04.html
Published through the British Library, Saad Eskander, the director of the Iraq National Library and Archive, has documented his struggles holding down his post in the midst of dwindling funds and car bombs in his neighborhood.

http://hometownbaghdad.com/2007/05/17/episode-29-nothing-but-guitar/
Hometown Baghdad is more real than any “reality” show I’ve seen. Rather than dealing with cheesy competitions and drunken hookups, this series of videos records well-to-do 20-somethings as they slowly disperse, forced to leave behind the homes they love for a more stable life elsewhere.