Monday, May 25, 2015

On dreams and detours



It's a shame to see that nearly half the year has passed since I last posted a reflection! Nonetheless, I offer photos and reflections to capture a bit of the meteoric semester that has buzzed by. In looking back at the diversity of events and looking ahead to what might be, I conclude with a comment on dreams and detours that we each experience on our journeys.



My "vertical buddy" and I exchange a dental cleaning and check up before the winter break. I will miss her but know she has begun a great dental career as a recent graduate. It is hard to believe that I will also be approaching this step in less than a year!
I had the opportunity to revisit Iowa City, Iowa for a week. Interacting with faculty and students in the dental public health and geriatric/special needs dentistry programs made the reality of my participation in the programs starkly evident. 
Baking Christmas cookies with my host in Iowa made me feel right at home.
Riding 10 hours from Iowa City to Vermillion, SD to visit a childhood friend, I took advantage of a 1-6am vigil-like layover at the Omaha, NE Greyhound station to reflect on my semester and visit in Iowa City. While I awaited my friend in Vermillion, I enjoyed visiting the National Music Museum.
Many unique instruments are housed in the National Music Museum. Eastern cultures seem to have the most ornate instruments. 
During long lay-overs or while otherwise waiting in a foreign city, I have found that libraries are fairly welcoming to wayfaring vagrants like me. Sharing the warmth of a fireplace with the homeless on a wintery afternoon in Vermillion, SD is a pleasant memory from the trip.
Pausing to admire the river on our ride from Nebraska into South Dakota.
There may not be much traffic in South Dakota, but ranchers' herds require yielding.
Beautiful sunsets on a beautiful landscape in western South Dakota
Before I was dropped off to catch my Greyhound bus back to Chicago, my friend and I picked up a puppy--a Christmas gift for her boyfriend.
Another layover in Omaha, NE on my way home.
Exploring a downtown shop in Omaha, NE
The quote seemed appropriate for my winter break journey on airplane, Greyhound bus, bike, the metro, and relying on hosts' transportation.
Though traveling in the Midwest for a week before the holidays was fun, cycling around my childhood hometown was very settling as I continued to process impressions from the trip.
The beautiful outskirts of Harrisonburg, VA
Making Papusas with my Salvadoran sister-in-law (I haven't perfected the technique of making the cheese-filled tortillas as circular and can't tactfully flip the tortillas with my bare fingers like her, but enjoyed making the yummy holiday meal with family).
A conference at Sandy Cove, MD welcomed me for a second year to reflect on MLK weekend what my faith means as I continue developing as an oral healthcare professional.
Focusing around "the road to Emmaus," a group of Virginians gathered to discuss how to best understand and engage youth in spiritual formation towards claiming their faith.
My first Ash Wednesday markings--I especially enjoyed this excerpt from a litany:  Let us be marked not for false humility or for thinking we are less than we are, but for claiming what God can do within the dust, within the dirt, within the stuff of which the world is made, and the stars that blaze in our bones, and the galaxies that spiral inside the smudge we bear (Jan Richardson).

A February trip to Boston gave me an opportunity to reflect back on November 2013, when I first presented at a professional meeting in the city.
Exhibiting for the AADMD as president of the student/resident committee, I was encouraged to encounter so much interest from colleagues all over the nation attending the ASDA annual session. 
I was glad to locate this cafe despite all the pedestrian detours amidst plowed towers of snow to jot down some of the below reflections.

Reflections from the Thinking Cup on 2/19/15:

One year and three months ago, my numb toes and blistery heals found refuge in this cafe after wandering in North Boston on a chilly November mid-morning. The day prior, I was a first-time presenter of a poster at a professional meeting, and I pondered into what realm this opened my world. This unsettling question accompanied me as I joined the poster’s co-author on a quest to secure some famous cannoli's from Mike’s Pastry shop. I didn’t feel at all qualified to have been selected for the presentation; rather, I felt as if I had been scooped up and accidentally placed into an experience with which I wasn’t sure what to do, as one would feel with etiquette at the banquet of a formal dinner in a foreign culture. I did feel a sense of vocational resonance with the other 13,000 participants of the meeting around the vast topics of public health. I’ve since had opportunities to learn the customs and language of the scholarly sphere and feel a bit more in place; nonetheless, I still wonder what shape the initiated trajectory will take and if I will ever feel less drained from all the pomp and circumstance by which professional organizations tend to function.

Just as the landscape of North Boston has changed a bit, necessitating that I wander though 4-foot-high snow banks carved out to allow one or two people to file through, following pedestrian detours around where snow was left uncleared, I feel that the landscape of my career/vocation also appears different and continues to encourage small detours. Feeling bookbag straps digging into my shoulders as my back sustains the load of my laptop, flyers, pens, and a banner for exhibiting a national organization--the student/resident committee for which I’ve found myself serving as president--I ponder all that I’m balancing and juggling as I meander amid the snow drifts of my dental training. As one who has a tendency to overload on groceries or any packing/unpacking endeavor to take one less trip back to the car, I wonder what will encourage or enable me to defer the next great opportunity and decide not to wonder which stepping stones lie beyond the step not taken, believing that an easy yolk will suffice. I acknowledge and am thankful that I am not blessed with blinders to focus on a single endeavor as are many of my colleagues, but I also desire to develop the skill of pulling in the reigns to sustainably and effectively navigate my career in a way that makes life meaningful for those on whose behalf I expend energy as well as respecting my own life with good stewardship. 

Pausing to enjoy a hot beverage on this chilly morning, I echo the question several of my mentors/superiors have asked--some with suspicion and some with authenticity, “What IS it that you want to do?” Some have heard me stumble through a litany of my interests and growing experience in public health and geriatric/special needs populations, and others have pushed me to explore further in considering a future in academia, clinical practice/research, non-profit administration, or a form of ministry. There’s no denying that I have an interest and pull towards each of these and I can even imagine a reality that conglomerates a career including each component, sequentially or simultaneously. Hearing others’ hopes or well-wishes for my future, I wonder whose story I am to pursue and live out. Feeling the strain from these perceived expectations and responsibilities as I strive to engage in a process that I hope is faithful "vocational discernment,” I commit to incorporate the experience of Sabbath into my explorations, recognizing that it is not up to me to restore all the brokenness that I encounter; but perhaps that I should rather embrace all brokenness and walk alongside as healing and restoration take place. Aiming to be led by the reality of an abundant "enough" to share rather than a competitive self-dependent scarcity, I let go of my craving for expected outcomes or mileposts in a career. Pursuing an alternative narrative, I hope to cultivate a sensitivity to tugs that enables me to be a better neighbor, enriching life where it is lacking. In all of this, I recognize that it is in my yieldedness and humility that I am able to acknowledge the sovereignty of a greater life-giving purpose working in and around me for the common good.

Serving over spring break in El Salvador for the third year in a row has convinced me that Latin America has had a substantial influence on my development as an oral healthcare professional.
Our welcoming dinner at La Casa de Mi Padre was catered by "The Taco Man," whose sauce was blamed for a previous group's bout of traveler's sickness for the first part of the week. Thankfully, our group was careful to evade the inconvenience. 
An international, interdenominational congregation in downtown El Salvador is pastored by the director of the children's home with which we partner.
After bravely tolerating several extractions as his little brother watched, the older sibling was still willing to offer a smile.
Visiting La Finca ("the farm") onto which the children of La Casa will move with their host families once the homes are built (permits have finally been granted by Santo Tomás, the local governing city, after many years of negotiation and following cumbersome local and national protocols).
 A Pupusería, making cheese (and other ingredient)-filled tortillas on a large scale.
Our dental dream team.
Visiting Puerto de la Libertad's El Tunco ("the pig," referring to the animal-shaped boulder on the shore) beach on the last day before departing, we built an elaborate sandcastle.
Equivalent to KFC chicken, Pollo Campero is a favorite fast food treat, delivered by moped and even specially packaged for transport back to the USA via airplane (makes for a savory plane ride back).
 I had the opportunity to interact with a child from La Casa with autism whose care and education I support with a monthly contribution. One of his care takers inspired me to continue my commitment as she expressed gratitude for experiencing his unique challenges and progress on a daily basis.


Following are several informative comments that I've received during the semester:

One of our service trip mentors reminded me of the limits that we have to place on services for each person and commented, “Here’s your problem: You’re heart’s bigger than your body.” Though a mix of admiration and rebuke, I found the comment encouraging and continue to wonder how true it may be and how I may need to develop such a trait into a more sustainable form.
In a similar tone, one of my classmates suggested, “You stay so active…you put too much pressure on yourself,” to which I responded that I really do enjoy that in which I engage but that some have better barometers than me to gauge self-preservation and comfort.
In a supportive tone, one of my attending faculty offered, “You put your heart into serving others; there’s no mistaking it…you can’t fabricate that!” I thanked the mentor, acknowledging that this is my aim, but wish I had taken the chance to somehow represent that I am only seeking to faithfully disciple after in the example of Christ, who expressed God’s self-giving love for each of us in human form.
With a hint of concerned rebuke, I've heard, "I hope you’re not over-extending yourself, are you?” To which I have admitted gambling with sleep and a perfect GPA as fair tradeoffs for the opportunities in which I’ve enjoyed being engaged.
In suggesting how I ought to develop in my dental career, I wasn't sure how to receive, “It’s not good to be set too far apart from your colleagues; they won’t relate to you and won't appreciate you.” I nodded and voiced my understanding and appreciation for the comment but yearned to proclaim that it is not praise and honor that I seek but that I hope to celebrate any outcomes that may come to be beyond ascribing them to my own merit.
A repeated comment that elicits a more profound pause takes the general form of “There’s no doubt that you will do great things/succeed in any career path that you choose, but” and here is a list of suggested modifications that would make my endeavors more conventional or less conspicuous.

Our Easter weekend exodontia team in Charlottesville, VA.
Celebrating my mentor and faculty's 80th birthday with a surprise party with our clinical group.
 I wasn't expecting to receive an award at the poster session at this year's Clinic and Research Day but was encouraged to hear positive responses to the three projects to which I contributed.
Attending a youth ministry council in PA, I had the chance to hike to a summit along a small waterfall.
The overlook at the top was well worth the climb, both with its vast expansive view and overwhelming sound of bare or budding trees swaying in the wind.
The youth ministry council was focused on bringing the topic of race into our work with youth; we were asked to write the name of an individual that has experienced injustice on the basis of their race on a stone and place it around the periphery of the visual. I surely confirmed how important it is for us to be intentional about acknowledging and affirming diversity in the midst of our faith communities.
Attending the "premier dental public health meeting" in Kansas City to present two posters, one project of which received honorable mention for the student community dental public health award, I tried to envision what belonging long-term to this tight network of dental public healthcare professionals might be like.
Receiving honorable mention for a student community service-learning initiative at the National Oral Health Conference and meeting other awardees and colleagues during presentation of the project was encouraging.
Offering a second poster describing the workforce building initiatives of the Virginia Oral Health Coalition towards improving access and oral health for individuals with disabilities helped identify and connect with advocates for this population from the dental public health network.
Easter Sunday lunch with a family that has meant so much to me during my tenure in Richmond!

In muddling over some of the afore-mentioned well-intended insinuations for my immediate and long-term future, I've found the following song resonating.

Whispers (<--link), by Passenger:
Well I’ve got open eyes and an open door, but I don’t know what I’m searching for. I should know by now
Well I’ve a big old heart. This I know for sure, but I don’t know what my love is for. I should know by now.
Well, I wait in line so I can wait some more ‘till I can’t remember what I came here for, I can’t leave now. ‘Cause I've a light that shines and a love so pure, but I don’t know what to use them for. I should know by now.
….Everybody’s filling me up with noise, I don’t know what they’re talking about! You see, all I need’s a whisper in a world that only shouts.

After finishing up my third year of dental school, I traveled to Chattanooga, TN and was hosted in a lovely ~200sqft carriage house that stands on the porch of a group home for four women with varying intellectual/developmental abilities.
The Orange Grove Center enthusiastically hosted me for a week-long Clerkship in Intellectual/Developmental Disabilities. I indeed felt very welcome!
The gymnasium offers a statement regarding the universality of happiness. The center studies and advocates for joy in individuals with intellectual/developmental disabilities along the whole spectrum of life.
The cafeteria manifests the Orange Grove Center's mission: "To recognize, support, and celebrate the qualities of the individual."
One of the Center's participants manages the DJ station in the cafeteria during lunch to keep the environment very pleasant and lively.
A modified handicap sign is exhibited on the doors of the Orange Grove Center, indicating the active willingness to allow individuals with disabilities to indicate when and how others can assist them.
One of the first dental patients of the day, a woman with Williams Syndrome (often exhibiting "elf-like manifestations"), received a crown preparation and impression. Upon completion of the procedure, she had to show me how she "boogied" with her stuffed animal to the boom-box music that can be turned on at the entrance of the Center's dental office. The clinical environment was a delight to experience.
Old rail cars are repurposed as  hotel rooms to commemorate Chattanooga's history of being a major train station stop.

The stationary rail cars have become a city landmark and flower garden, open to visitation by the public. 
The historic Chattanooga Choo-Choo hotel
 Dave, a man with quite a few limitations, came to visit the Center with his day nurse on my last clerkship day to dispense his "Dave's Random Acts of Kindness," an initiative of the coalition devoted to studying and advocating for joy in individuals with disabilities.

During my comprehensive clerkship, I noted that each professional engaged in the center truly experienced a sense of meaning in their work. Talking to the healthcare professionals specifically about the trajectories of their careers,  I sensed that they were both better clinicians and happier people, overall, in their current settings, working with a population that many would consider an undesirable exclusive clientele. Despite the often uneasy, seemingly insignificant, or circuitously futile nature of their work, I hope to one day find my own niche that would allow me to be the best clinician, healthcare professional, and person that I can be.

My father's 50th birthday celebration offered a time for friends and family to reflect on how quickly time passes and the unpredictably marvelous trajectory of life journeys, propelled by (even if not fulfilling) our dreams and goals.
For nearly a year, I have been in conversation with Change the World RVA regarding serving as a house host and mentor to an at-risk highschool-graduate/college student. The opportunity has not come together as planned but I have enjoyed getting to know the organization and its participants.
An Occupational Therapy student and I hosted a workshop for the Change the World RVA after school program. For the dental portion, I was delighted to receive many questions about oral health as we went over oral hygiene and nutritional best practices. They also enjoyed hearing about dentistry as a career and were excited to learn about my NHSC Scholarship and seek more for themselves.
A Memorial Day Weekend morning hike (or stroll) through Belle Isle preceded a cookout lunch that I hosted for several young adults from our congregation.

Reflecting on all the events mentioned above and considering thoughts and conversations that have spread throughout the semester, I wonder about the place of dreams and detours in the trajectory of one’s life and vocation. Acknowledging my inaccurate perception of future consequences of current choices (often guided by my dreams/goals), I suppose that the purpose of my current interests is to propel me into a direction that most often turns out much more suitable than I could have imagined. Adding the phenomenon of detours into this context, I resolve that dreams serve as the detours that faithfully direct us in our life journeys.


Preparing to lead a workshop at the Global Youth Summit in July titled, "The Gift of Vocation: receiving and sharing our calling," I have been reading an anthology titled, "Leading Lives That Matter: What We Should Do and Who We Should Be." Below are some excerpts that have stuck out as I start to delve into the topic:

"If there were any such morally exceptional individuals, however, what made them different from the rest? It can only have been this, --that their souls worked and endured in obedience to some inner ideal, while their comrades were not actuated by anything worthy of that name. These ideals of other lives are among those secrets that we can almost never penetrate, although something about the man may often tell us when they are there" ("What Makes a Life Significant?" by William James)
"How I suffered to see so many people assuming the right to tear open the doors and shutters of my inner self....As one who demands that idealists should be sober in their views, I was aware that every venture down an untrodden path is a venture that looks sensible and likely to be successful only under unusual circumstances...Anyone who proposes to do good must not expect people to roll any stones out of his way, and must calmly accept his lot even if they roll a few more into it. Only force that in the face of obstacles becomes stronger can win. Force that is used only to revolt wastes itself" ("I Resolve to Become a Jungle Doctor" by Albert Schweitzer).
"My self is not one voice struggling to be heard but a medley of voices that sometimes sing in unison, sometimes in discord. More important still, we continue to define and discover our identities in company with others. Identity formation is a collective project...There is a certain way of being human that is my way. I am called upon to live my life in this way, and not in imitation of anyone else's. But this gives a new importance to being true to myself. If I am not, I miss the  point of my life, I miss what being human is for me... We are expected to develop our own opinions, outlooks, stances to things, to a considerable degree through solitary reflection. But this is not how things work with important issues, such as the definition of our identity. We define this always in dialogue with, sometimes in struggle against, the identities our significant others want to recognize in us...We will need relationships to fulfill but not to define ourselves...Defining myself means finding what is significant in my difference from others...Only if I exist in a world in which history, or the demands of nature, or the needs of my fellow human beings, or the duties of citizenship, or the call of God, or something else of this order matters crucially, can I define an identity for myself that is not trivial. Authenticity is not the enemy of demands that emanate from beyond the self; it supposes such demands" ("The Ethics of Authenticity" by Charles Taylor).
"But much the commoner type of success in every walk of life and in every species of effort is that which comes to the man who differs from his fellows not by the kind of quality which he possesses but by the degree of development which he has given that quality" ("The Vigor of Life" by Theodore Roosevelt).
"Our career becomes a place where we hide from others, and especially ourselves. On the basis of these and similarly errant motives, we can convince ourselves that we are qualified for certain careers, while what led us to choose those careers had very little to do with our particular gifts or the human needs around us...The assumption behind these recommendations is that discovering God's will for one's life is not so much a matter of seeking out miraculous signs and wonders as it is being attentive to who and where we are...In coming to know ourselves and our situation, we come to know God's will" ("Making the Match: Career Choice" by Lee Hardy).


I look forward to continued preparation for facilitating the workshop on vocation and myself considering the topic as I think about a future after this short final year of dental school!