Visiting San Salvador during spring break

February flew by with the demands of dental school and I was refreshed at the start of March by joining a group of professional health students and clinicians for a service trip in San Salvador, El Salvador. Pictures tell some of the story:

My Father's House International, the orphanage that we came to support, works to reconcile separated families while lovingly caring for children before the process is complete.

Dr. Ed Read, one of our group leaders points out the area in which we are serving while we drive back to the hotel after the first day of clinic.

Another one of our leaders guides an elderly lady towards the triage table. 

Medical consults under the tents.

Physical therapy exercises

A great dental experience for all!

Dental corner of the beach-side clinic

Holding down a toddler for anterior extractions is no fun. I bet his mom felt the same way.

I really enjoyed praying with each patient on this trip...it's not something that I'd done on other service trips

These sisters posed in front of a church across the street from the town hall in which we held a clinic

Ed (MD) and Debby (RN) Read are the Christian Medical and Dental Association student group leaders on the MCV campus.  It has been such a blessing to get to know them and be involved in the group since starting dental school.

I'm looking forward to Easter weekend and hope you enjoy it also. Nearly one more month and I'll have completed my first year of dental school! That feels like an accomplishment, considering that we've lost 4 classmates so far...but it also is a joyous and frightening reality check for the fact that I will be a practicing dentist in just over three short years!

San Luis, Mexico and a new semester

Yes, it says "beef and pork tacos" in white on that small building.

The church building reflects the rising sun in a small neighborhood of the city of San Luis, Mexico.

Rows and rows of salad greens, cabbage, cotton and other cash crops...

The day after finishing fall semester exams, I traveled to San Luis, Mexico to visit several schools and churches with oral health workshops and tooth brushes/paste. I enjoyed my 9-day trip (except spending a long night and morning of Christmas Eve in the Pheonix airport) and spent the holidays with family in the Valley. Returning to a new (second) semester, I felt a new sense of belonging in my green scrubs, among 93 other first year dental students. I've enjoyed getting involved in several legislative/lobbying days with the Virginia Dental Association and the Virginia Oral Health Coalition. It is inspiring to meet dental and non-dental professionals who are passionate about educating politicians about the realities of oral health care and the requests of the profession to better meet the needs of various populations. During exam week and during the past few weeks, I have had the opportunity to visit a long-term care facility (aka nursing home) dental clinic and am continuing to explore gerodontology. Realizing the great need for increased access to oral health care for the elderly population (and acknowledging that the baby boomer population may require a bulk of time from my generation of dental professionals), I am excited to start a geriatric dentistry study club at the dental school (our first meeting will be next week!). I am also ecstatic about getting involved in an Inter Health Professionals Alliance at VCU, which runs a monthly "Kroger outreach and health screening" session at a local grocery store (serving undergraduate college students as well as the surrounding residents of all ages, many of whom are uninsured). Hereafter, the group would like to focus their efforts around oral health, linking it to systemic health. That gives a public health-attracted dental student like me another avenue of distraction (and then I ask myself why I'm not getting straight A's in dental school...). In any case, I become giddy to imagine how I might blend my interests in public health with dental clinical skills and the perceived needs of the geriatric population.

I think we left nearly 400 tooth brushes/pastes at this school. The kids loved the cars and princess handles of the brushes. I hope they remember what S. mutans does in their mouths and reach for their gifted hygiene supplies.

Many enjoyed brushing, touching, or looking at Carlos' (Charlie's) huge teeth. They were all convinced the crocodile's dentition was real.

I attended a 'worship and music leaders retreat' several weeks ago, the theme of which was hospitality. Among other interactions and messages, it was intriguing to hear from a Benedictine Abbot from Minnesota talk about their tradition and monastery's norms regarding accepting guests/visitors. Below is a poem that I found when later thinking about the topic.

During an evening outing to Rumorosa, a high elevation settlement near Mexicali, Mexico, we took refuge from a heavy rainstorm in a schoolbus that was transformed into a cabin by the parents of the pastor's wife. 

While we waited for the rain to subside, we tried to warm up the poorly-insulated school bus with this nifty stove. A nearby tienda (shop) sold us some sausage, tortillas and cheese for a great meal.

The pastor's mom and niece sell furniture that the pastor's brother makes out of pallets. He stains the wood with a diluted mixture of pen ink and finishes the furniture with candle wax. I hope to make some of my own furniture someday, too...via creative measures such as these : )

Hospitality

I asked Love to help me
greet the stranger in myself.
I knew how to open my door to the world
and greet everyone out there as friend
but I didn’t have any kind of welcome
for the impoverished one within.
She was the weakness I couldn’t acknowledge.
She was the pain I didn’t allow.
She was the leper I’d tried to cast out the city,
the one who cried at night in lonely places.
I thought that if I let her in
she’d cause me no end of trouble, and I was afraid.

But Love helped me to prepare a feast.
We set the table, Love and I,
and then I did it,
I invited my stranger.
‘Answer the door,’ said Love.
‘You have nothing to fear.’

She came in slowly.

I put my arms around her
and embraced her in her rags
and we wept together for years of separation.
I sat my stranger at the head of the table,
gave her the best of food and wine
and, claiming her as my own,
began to introduce her to my friends.
‘But who shall I say she is?’
I whispered to Love.
‘I can’t call her a stranger now.’
Love smiled and said, ‘Don’t you know?
She is the Christ.’

Joy Cowley
Aotearoa New Zealand

My cousin and I visited an art museum in DC on New Year's Eve.

The first and second year dental classes collected toys for tots before Christmas (I'm community service co-chair of my class this year).

Some of my classmates posed for a mock representation of our 'injection day,' when we practiced two injection techniques on each other. My eyelid and nose were only numb until lunch time : /

 Upon returning to Richmond, I was asked to write about my short experience in Mexico for a church newsletter. I decided to reflect on what these kinds of trips mean for me spiritually. Below is the entry:

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. 1 Cor 13:12 (NIV)

Whenever I am away from home, I have found that I learn about my usual surroundings and myself more than if I were actually there. Interacting with people that are different than me, living in circumstances that are different than those in which I live, becomes like gazing into a mirror, trying to discern the image of God that I ought to see. I am able to look at my reflection with greater clarity when aided by the contrast that cross-cultural encounter offers. My short 9-day trip to San Luis, Mexico allowed for such ‘mirror-gazing,’ two reflections from which I will share.

In a book that I’d brought along and read at the start of my trip, Leonard Dow proposes the idea of the “professionalization of poverty” as a concept for the praise-worthy task of choosing to live simply (as opposed to making do with what you have).¹ While eating two simple but hearty meals a day with the Mexican pastoral missionary family, traveling by bus and on foot to neighboring cities, and washing my clothes in an outdoor water basin (a pila), I wondered how I loved God and my neighbor in my daily activities and how I might make adjustments to do so more directly without “professionalizing” the gesture.

It was an honor to be a guest in the home of the pastor’s mother for a night, watching her cook beans over an outdoor fire and roll out dozens of tortillas for the day. While surveying the family pictures, wedding portraits, and art hanging on the walls, I encountered a plaque showing one of the siblings uniformed and armed, while kneeling on a field; to the right of his picture was a letter of gratitude to his mother. When inquiring of the pastor whether the church considered themselves pacifists, it was explained to me that Mexico was a peace-loving country, the military of which spends its time in the mountains chasing the drug traffickers as they grow their crops, and that supporting the military as a church was how we are to “submit to our governing authorities,” as Paul instructs us to do in his Epistle to the Romans. When I struggled to explain without sounding threatening that I wasn’t sure that taking anyone’s life for any reason was fulfilling God’s will, I wondered if maybe my perspective might be called “professionalized pacifism.” I exist in a country and social network in which I can claim my right to free speech or religion (among other privileges) and where I do not feel a constant threat to my life. Many would say that this is as a result of the country’s strong militant action. From this comfortable peak (to which I might deny militant credit), is it too easy for me to ignore the complex history of violence in other lands and demand a perspective that is outside of what experience has taught those groups to believe? Perhaps a heavy dose of compassion is necessary in keeping us earnest in our longing for peace.

Visiting numerous groups of children in schools and churches, I hoped my oral health lessons and toothbrush/paste-gifting were received as a sincere desire for their well being rather than just another donation from the local church or the US. Nonetheless, I am grateful to have had yet another opportunity to visit people in their homes in San Luis, Mexico. Karen Armstrong writes, “Unknowing remains an essential part of the human condition. Religion is at its best when it helps us to ask questions and holds us in a state of wonder—and arguably at its worst when it tries to answer them authoritatively and dogmatically.”² I am hopeful that while each of us walks our paths of faith we take time to interact with those that may seem to be on a slightly different path. In considering our differences, perhaps exchanging the gift of contrast, we might more clearly see the reflection of God’s image in us as a diverse family of believers, awaiting the day when we will all see God face to face and share our one and true faith eternally.

¹ Longacre DJ. 2010. Living More With Less. (pg 47)

² Armstrong K. 2010. Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life. (pg 118)

Last Friday, I acquired a flat tire six blocks from the school. When I left lab for the day, snow had already coated the streets. I changed my back inner tube and started the slushy way home. When a train decided to cross Brook Rd, I stopped to snap a picture of the adventurous evening. [Yes, that is a 'horse crossing' sign in the background--who knew there would be a stable across from the metal recycling center in the city!]

An evening stroll down Wentbridge Rd on what could have been Richmond's blizzard of the season.

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

The dental school is only several blocks from the capital building, yet I rarely  make the intent to visit. Joining several lobbyist groups makes me realize that "we the people" are the government and are welcome and necessary in those walls.

...So there's plenty going on to keep things interesting. Asking a professor to comment on the statistic that says dentistry is the profession with the highest suicide rate, he said it's important to keep changing and moving--to keep things from getting stale...I might be on the right track.

First semester of dental school winds down

At the start of November, the street in my neighborhood boasted vibrant fall colors....now the trees stand bare.

The sun sets into the Appomattox River as we await initiation into the dental service fraternity, Delta Sigma Delta.

November has flown by with several weeks of intermittent exams and clinical competencies and in anticipation for Thanksgiving break. At the start of the month, I enjoyed taking a weekend road trip with one of my classmates, her sister and their three dogs and cat to Leola/Lancaster, PA. During a dental class Thanksgiving potluck and at an initiation for the dental service fraternity, Delta Sigma Delta, I continued to get to know some of my classmates a bit better. All in all, I think I am feeling very much at home in Richmond and at the dental school...so much so that it felt funny to visit my parents during the holiday break. I don’t quite return ‘home’ when I visit them because they had recently moved into a new house; nonetheless, I can still recall my childhood norms when I am there. Adapting to different norms in Richmond, I’ve wondered if my experience is similar to that of the Israelites returning from exile in Babylon to ‘their forefathers’ land.’ The song below prompted these musings:

By the waters of Babylon

Where we sat down

And there we wept

When we remembered Zion

For the wicked carried us away, captivity

Required of us a song.

How can we sing our holy song

In a strange land?

So let the words our my mouth

And the meditations of my heart

Be acceptable unto you,

O God.

Text: Jamaican traditional

Music: Jamaican traditional

(Song cited from : Sing the Journey—Hymnal: a Worship Book Supplement 1. 2005)

After I had first heard the song and tried to repeat it mindlessly, I found myself replacing ‘meditations’ in the last stanza with ‘hesitations.’ Coincidence or not, it seems that both meditations and hesitations are a necessary part of exile, both of which should be held to a certain standard.

Beyond the bare corn fields faithfully stands the slope of Massanutten Mountain, a small part of the Shenandoah Valley.

It's a bit hard to visualize the mountains beyond all the infrastructure around my parents' neighborhood,  but the sunrise is spectacular, nonetheless.

As the whole world seems to have done during the past several weeks, I’ve begun to think about Christmas. In this activity, I encountered the below song and thought it related nicely to the above discussion about thoughts, hesitations and exile.

Firstborn of Mary, provocative preacher, itinerant teacher, outsider’s choice;

Jesus inspires and disarms and confuses whomever he chooses to hear his voice!

Text: John L. Bell

Music: John L. Bell

(Song cited from : Sing the Story—Hymnal: a Worship Book Supplement 2. 2007)

...Challenging, isn’t it? As I continue to explore my surroundings (location and people) and think about how they affect me, I hope to extend some hospitality both to those around me and myself:

Hospitality

I asked Love to help me
greet the stranger in myself.
I knew how to open my door to the world
and greet everyone out there as friend
but I didn’t have any kind of welcome
for the impoverished one within.
She was the weakness I couldn’t acknowledge.
She was the pain I didn’t allow.
She was the leper I’d tried to cast out the city,
the one who cried at night in lonely places.
I thought that if I let her in
she’d cause me no end of trouble, and I was afraid.

But Love helped me to prepare a feast.
We set the table, Love and I,
and then I did it,
I invited my stranger.
‘Answer the door,’ said Love.
‘You have nothing to fear.’

She came in slowly.

I put my arms around her
and embraced her in her rags
and we wept together for years of separation.
I sat my stranger at the head of the table,
gave her the best of food and wine
and, claiming her as my own,
began to introduce her to my friends.
‘But who shall I say she is?’
I whispered to Love.
‘I can’t call her a stranger now.’
Love smiled and said, ‘Don’t you know?
She is the Christ.’

Joy Cowley
Aotearoa New Zealand

We saw our first patient this month (for periodontal probings) and above was our last dental anatomy carving competency. The blue wax is my attempt to recreate a mandibular molar per the acrylic model.

As the remaining two weeks of the semester wind down, I look forward to revisiting San Luis, Mexico. I had gone with a church youth group two years ago to organize a Christmas program for children in the neighborhood. My childhood home church continues to sponsor the church-building and children’s activities in the area, but I hope to make an early trip (before the Christmas program) with some toothbrushes and paste : ) The local pastor and I will visit several churches in the area to hold oral health workshops for children and adolescents (though I hope parents will also tune in). I am excited to rejuvenate my Peruvian charla (lesson) on oral health and hope that I am able to explore possibilities for future oral health projects, perhaps partnering with local dentists.

Celebrating my second decade in Richmond, my new and bittersweet home

A quaint downtown railroad crossing in Greensboro, NC.

I visited a public health open house at University of North Carolina at Greensboro's Department of Community Health Education. I enjoyed walking through the city's downtown streets and then meeting the public health program's faculty and exploring the exciting public health opportunities that the future might hold. 

I followed the mysterious bubbles in the street to this shop.

Harsh realities of city life offer opportunities for optimism...

After the six armed robberies on a Monday evening in early October and the stabbing on Tuesday night (on/near the MCV campus), I was a bit discouraged about learning to appreciate life in Richmond (and envisioning an extended future here). As I cycled to school the following morning, I saw a man bending over to open up a flattened paper bag from BurgerKing. I’m not sure if he was looking for food or drugs, but my heart ached for the brokenness in whatever systems are involved that cause people to be so violent and unjust to one another. Richmond is proving to be hard to love as a home. However, similar themes are near and dear to any location...Later that day, my sister told me of a childhood friend couple that was processing a divorce because the husband had been seeing other women for at least a year while his wife busied herself with their toddler son and a college education. Although he had not reacted with any remorse, she was being blamed for ‘causing’ the situation in which her husband had an affair. Instead of support and sympathy, she received judgment. How unfortunate it is that we hurt not only those we’ve never met (homeless/criminals on the street) but also those who are nearest to us (family)?

Later that week, I attended a lecture by Rev. Ben Campbell, an Episcopalian priest, who analyzes such a situation in his book, Richmond’s Unhealed History. He suggests that there is a deeply moral and spiritual problem at play in the city: one of denial and hypocrisy. From the time that the first settlers erected a cross in the name of their English king until today, liberty has been juxtaposed with the bondage of others, just as more recent urban development entailed enclosing the city’s development complexes with six-lane highways that served the suburban middle class. All the while, Rev. Campbell explains, the repression of people creates bondage of denial and fear in the oppressor. We are not able to step into the future as a city (or even as authorities of a city) with hope if we are not willing to face the foundational brokenness on which this city has been built. Although I yearn to eventually relocate to a location that is small enough that I can influence these mutually exclusive ‘tiers of existence,’ I appreciated Rev. Campbell’s optimism in advocating to end “discrimination by transportation” by extending the public transportation down the main streets several miles to allow access to 80% of the jobs in the city (as opposed to the current 25% of jobs that are available via public transit).

I visited my parents for an early birthday celebration. My niece and nephew are growing too quickly!

It's great to get help blowing out your birthday candles from enthusiastic family members!

I accompanied my sister for a fall photo session before the storm (Hurricane Sandy) removed most of autumn's glory. The gang studies a flower-petal-filled fountain.

Yes, this is the fountain to which I was referring.

I only ride on the highways and the interstate on the weekends when I go shopping or to worship services but enjoy, even if only at these rare instances, keeping something edible in my car to offer to those that stand at the exits with signs like “need a little help” and “homeless and hungry,” among others. Many of the individuals’ faces speak much more accurately than the signs...others seem to have lost any expressive consciousness that would appropriate their cause. The times that I am fortunate to have something in my passenger seat to offer and a person to receive it, I have marveled at these people. Some explain that while most people think the homeless are dirty people, they shower daily by warming up water with a gas hot plate under the bridge (their residence). Others spill out an emotionless synopsis of their situation, how they became unemployed/homeless, to what violence they are subjected by their spouse/significant other or what they are doing to try to move from their situation. It has been most insightful and touching to hear the recipient say that they will share what I’ve given with “my girl-friend who’s standing across the street” or when I watch them walk off with my gift to a fellow vagrant (I use this descriptive term carefully and respectfully). I have heard of the homeless being very familiar with each other, often knowing each others’ bench or bridge, but I’ve never before witnessed such care extended by such needy. Not often observing similar acts of care in ‘the more fortunate circles,’ I feel honored to enter such a community, even if momentarily on the extending end. On the occasions that I pass one of these folks close to my home without something to offer, I resolve to return to the same place after fetching something from the house. More often than not, I return to a vacant bucket or a lonely cardboard sign on the ground, disappointed that my desire to help was not effected in time. In these cases, I’ve compared these evanescent beggars with angels, disappearing out of sight when I’ve not seized the initial opportunity to offer what I’ve set aside. Using a recently gifted (and growing) potato bread starter to bake sourdough bread, I realize that the two-loaf recipe is not at all inconvenient for this single Richmond-dweller. I hope to develop a tradition of Saturday morning bread-baking with the pleasant thought in mind that I may cross paths with someone who might welcome my extra loaf. I hope this habit will allow me to continually consider my discomfort with the realities of crime and poverty while still remaining optimistic towards each individual that appears on the side of my road.

Classes at VCU were canceled on Monday due to the storm...but it would be too much to ask Lyubov to stay put. I traveled back to Harrisonburg to finalize the purchase of my new interstate sidekick, a Nissan Versa.

As I headed back home on Monday afternoon, the scenic overlook between Waynesboro and Charlottesville still boasted Appalachian beauty, despite the dense fog that Hurricane Sandy brought.

This song challenges me to embrace bittersweet life in Richmond:

Jesus Christ is waiting, waiting in the streets;
no one is his neighbor, all alone he eats.
Listen, Lord Jesus, I am lonely too.
Make me friend or stranger, fit to wait on you.

Jesus Christ is raging, raging in the streets,
where injustice spirals and real hope retreats.
Listen, Lord Jesus, I am angry too.
In the kingdom's causes let me rage with you.

Jesus Christ is healing, healing in the streets;
curing those who suffer, touching those he greets.
Listen, Lord Jesus, I have pity too.
Let my care be active, healing just like you.

Jesus Christ is dancing, dancing in the streets,
where each sign of hatred he, with love, defeats.
Listen, Lord Jesus, I should triumph too.
Where good conquers evil let me dance with you.

Jesus Christ is calling, calling in the streets,
"Who will join my journey? I will guide their feet."
Listen, Lord Jesus, let my fears be few.
Walk one step before me; I will follow you.

Text: John L. Bell and Graham Maule
Music: French traditional; harmonized by James E Clemens (2001)
(Song cited from Sing the Journey--Hymnal: a Worship Book Supplement 1. 2005.)


It's hard to believe that I've completed twenty years of life today. I've easily accepted the fact; now it's only a matter of recognizing what that means for tomorrow and beyond.

Hope you're staying warm during these last chilly and moist days of October : )

Seasonal progress: some things pass away and some open up

After a long weekend, I realized how appreciative I was to be at school past six o’clock; I was eager to be headed home but was content with admitting that here is where I “belonged.” I am determined to enjoy this membership to its fullest during these four years.

3 classes complete

It’s hard to believe that I am eight weeks into my dental school career! The first year class has completed their first three courses (Gross Anatomy, Neuroanatomy, and Operative Dentistry (dental simulation clinic portion). Last week, we began Dental Anatomy, in which we carve teeth out of wax to study their intricate details. It has been exciting to re-enter the world of microbiology in our Infection and Immunology course. We’ve been meeting several new clinical instructors in our Clinical Dentistry class (which includes introductory Periodontics, Evidence-Based Dentistry, and basic clinical skills). We will transition into a non-computerized simulation clinic to continue developing Operative Dentistry techniques. Now that we’re not in cadaver labs for 3 hours a day, we are wearing our class scrubs; all 97 of us in hunter green with our names and graduation year embroidered on the scrub top. Being amidst a mass of green is becoming a comforting norm. It is also becoming comforting to interact with and pass alongside upperclassmen in other colored scrubs, a reminder that they’ve been through all that awaits us. The next few weeks appear busy so that the remainder of the semester may fly by.

After three days (a total of about 11 hours) of work, I submitted my maxillary central incisor (#8) wax carving. The task is tedious but very enjoyable so long as I don’t dwell on the time or the graded outcome of the end product.

MOM Project in Grundy, VA

This past weekend, I participated in a dental RAM (remote area missions) project in Grundy, VA, located in the southwest mountainous region of the state. The VCU School of Dentistry devoutly organizes these Mission of Mercy (MOM) Projects and generously allows several students to take part in the experience.

We were told that Grundy, VA is a town no bigger than 5 miles in diameter, home to around 1,000 residents. The three-story shopping plaza (with a parking garage on the second floor and a Wal-Mart on the third floor) were distinctive recent changes to the town, although quarries and coalmines are still the most prevalent employment options.

I enjoyed assisting with restorations (fillings) as well as washing the suction lines with bactericidal chemicals after each patient and scrubbing instruments after operative use. It was wonderful to be working on teeth on real live people (as opposed to our typodont dummy in the simulation clinics). I was glad to be reminded of the interpersonal aspect of dentistry, a core reason for my pursuit of the career. I also enjoyed seeing and assisting several dentists from Harrisonburg and meeting others. It is great to work with and learn from clinicians that are passionate about helping underserved areas. I am hopeful that my post-dental school NHSC service site will foster more of these interactions.

When visiting the town’s Wal-Mart, I was bewildered to see an escalator at the store (one that carried both shoppers and their carts)...No wonder we have to continue stripping the Appalachians of their gentle slopes—how else would we operate several escalators 24/7?! But the connection between coal mines and the superfluous technology doesn’t seem apparent, despite that the two are less than five miles apart.

Bicycling amidst the mountains

Earlier in September, I visited my parents in the Valley and was surprised by how much I missed the ever-present mountain-scape. I just couldn’t get enough of the sun(rise/set) coloration and the soothing effect produced by sensing the ridges enveloping me round-about. Perhaps I was experiencing that which Weidensaul explains in the introduction to his book, Mountains of the Heart:

“...mountains in general seem to exert an especially profound grip on the human imagination. Whatever the reason, I get twitchy when I spend too much time in a place where the highest point on the horizon is a telephone pole or a grain silo. I need to be able to look into the hills and know that I could disappear into them when the tame world gets to be too much, like a promise of refuge always waiting on the doorstep” (VII, Introduction)

While in the Valley, I participated in the Bike Shenandoah (“cycle for service”) event. I signed up for a 30-mile ride but resolved to cycle from my parents’ home in Weyers Cave to Harrisonburg (where the ride began). Meeting my relatives at a park in Bridgewater after the ride for a family picnic, I totaled 57 miles--I’m glad I didn’t sign up for the metric century ride!

Being in transit or indoors in the city (Richmond), I hadn’t even noticed the mountains’ absence but was still able to recognize my nostalgia for the Valley’s topography when visiting. Perhaps I will act on this affinity and gravitate towards someday settling near the rounded Appalachians.

Fall is in the air

It’s been very exhilarating to catch a whiff of crisp autumn air during these past few days. I am especially eager to welcome fall and winter this year as I left wintery VA in January for temperate Honduras and Peru returned during mid-spring, at the end of April. I await the completion of my twentieth year at the end of the month and hope to catch a bit of the Valley before the trees develop and lose their glory.

A new NHSC scholar in town!

Richmond: a city on the James River

The first month of dental school has flown by, consistently with what we'd been told about the duration of our training, that "the days are long but the years are short." It has been interesting to interact with such a diverse group of professional students. I've been challenged to consider the modes of communicating or socializing that might bring me closer or farther away from my classmates. I have found one of these major 'modes of socializing' to be off limits due to my age and am not sure that age is the only thing that will keep me from acquiring a taste for 'going out with friends.' I continue to enjoy commuting by bike but have been numerously advised against cycling in various parts of the city at various times of the day. Feeling unwilling to actively distrust the people by whom I am surrounded and in contemplating the differing values that separate me from many of my classmates, I sorrowfully appreciate the social norms and problems that divide us as a people. I hope that I don't grow used to finding and interacting in social circles of comfort and security, while being ignorant of the lives of those with whom I can't so easily connect.

The Virginia War Memorial, honoring named soldiers of various wars

The logo of the organization with whom I am partnering as a dentist-in-training

On a joyous note, I received notification on August 31st that I am awarded the National Health Service Corps Scholarship. This entails the NHSC fully supporting my 4 year dental training in exchange for a 4 year service commitment in a Health Professional Shortage Area of my choosing. I am thankful for the relief of professional school loans and look forward to beginning my dental career in an underserved area where health practitioners strive to create a healthier community. These two factors (lack of colossal loans and placement in an underserved area) may allow me to pursue public health training, a discipline that continues to interest me. In this regard, receiving this award seems like an important milestone in the course of both my professional career and my personal life. Thinking about such 'stepping stones' and 'connecting the dots,' I reminisce offering one of my favorite Psalms to the daily pre-clinic devotional (about which I posted on February 24, 2012 when I concluded my volunteering experience in Honduras). Then, I had noted that verse 2 of the Psalm suggests a subtle ever-present exchange of action (speech) and substance (knowledge). I resolved that experiences happen (as day cycles into night) whether or not we take advantage of or appreciate them. Today, I am conscious of the fact that the heavens and firmament (all that surrounds us) allows everyone (regardless of 'speech or language') to equally experience the same cycle. I hope you can also appreciate the beautiful scripture passage:

19 The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.

² Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge.

³ There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.

⁴ Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun,

⁵ Which is as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoiceth as a strong man to run a race.

⁶ His going forth is from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the ends of it: and there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.

⁷ The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple.

⁸ The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.

⁹ The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.

¹⁰ More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.

¹¹ Moreover by them is thy servant warned: and in keeping of them there is great reward.

¹² Who can understand his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults.

¹³ Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me: then shall I be upright, and I shall be innocent from the great transgression.

¹⁴ Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.

Memory: what a wonderful part of being human. We don't, however, get the choice of remembering exclusively the pleasant. 

...And so I journey onward, challenged to honor the opportunities I've had and continue to be granted with fervent effort.