Community-Based Learning Blog

This guest blog features Holy Cross alumna, Theresa Becchi ’10. Theresa recently wrote an article for the Holy Cross Magazine about her experience in the Peace Corps. Theresa served as a panelist on the post-graduate year of service panel for the 2018 Non-Profit Careers Conference where she also shared about her Peace Corps experience. Below are her reflections.

A year ago, I sat in a prison yard under the corrugated metal roofing of a makeshift shelter, surrounded by women who had trafficked drugs, trafficked humans, killed their husbands or killed a child. We laughed, cried and sang, squinting in the blazing sun, a welcomed breeze rumpling our dirty hair. I had entered the prison thinking of them as strangers, and I left knowing them as friends.

From 2015 to 2017, I served as a Peace Corps volunteer in the island nation of Timor Leste (East Timor) in Southeast Asia. I worked with female prisoners at one of the only two national prisons on the island with a Timorese Non-Governmental Organization that provides services to people experiencing trauma, mental illness and other psychosocial problems. For two years, I went to the prison several days a week to support the creation of a female prisoner-led sewing cooperative, teach income-generating activities like making jam and facilitate weekly yoga classes.

Before Timor, I had never set foot in a prison. I had, admittedly, found it easier to look at people who were in prison simplistically: They did something wrong, they were bad people and they deserved to be there. But over the course of two years, I got to know these women as more than just prisoners. They were women struggling to move forward, struggling with regret, trying to accept what they had done, come to terms with the situation in which they found themselves and find a support system among their fellow inmates. They were women who were feeling such strong despair and remorse, aching for their daughters, sons, mothers and fathers, for forgiveness, for the feel of the ocean current and the taste of fresh corn stew. They longed for the hole in their hearts to be filled, hoping and praying that they could do better, and waiting, constantly waiting, for the day they would walk out the prison gates into a world of redemption.

During my Peace Corps service I often struggled with the feeling that I was in my own prison; I also ached for family, friends and the familiarity of home. I struggled with loneliness and frustration and I, too, was waiting for my two-year commitment to come to an end.

In spending time with these women, who were capable of committing intense transgressions, I learned that they were also capable of intense courage, faith, love, generosity and hope. They helped me through my years of service. They brought me joy and gave me courage. I shared real laughs with them as they learned to do downward dog, watched as they giddily tasted homemade peanut butter for the first time and saw them organize and lead the formation of a small business. I also bore witness to their struggle with their regrets, pain and boredom. Every day they worked to find forgiveness and hope — through prayer, song, jokes, teasing, volleyball games, sewing, hugs and tears. They dug deep to find it. They kept going. Over the course of my time with them, it became impossible for me to view them as anything but good people. Rather, I came to know and understand them as the complicated, intricate, profound humans we all are, worthy of respect, dignity and, above all, love.

Joining the Peace Corps was likely an inevitability for me — my sister (a fellow Holy Cross alumna) served, her now-husband served and my mother served. I came to the Peace Corps later than the typical volunteer, having joined several years after undergrad. After graduating from Holy Cross, I worked on political campaigns in Connecticut and Virginia, and then took a job at a social policy think tank. After a few years, a nagging whisper, which had been dormant, returned, and I applied to the Peace Corps knowing, finally, it was the right step for me.

Sargent Shriver, the first director of the Peace Corps, said, “Serve, serve, serve, because in the end, it will be the servants who save us all.” This quote reminds me of the Holy Cross mission of “men and women for others.” Holy Cross teaches us that in our own lives, in our own neighborhoods, in our own families, we are all capable of serving others. Service is not done because it looks good on Instagram or on a resume, but because it is truly in giving that we receive. When we take the time to set our egos and ourselves aside and seek to recognize ourselves in others — even those who on the surface seem the most foreign and unrecognizable — we will gain the clarity we have often been missing. I think of my friends at the prison, and as I remember their isolation and fear, I remember my own. I remember their ability to hope and forgive — to forgive themselves and others who did them wrong — and it is from them I learned how to try to do the same. When we serve others, we are reminded of the dichotomy within each of us: We are capable of great misdeeds, but we are also capable of doing great good.

This world isn’t easy; it is a tough place and people do bad things. These days, especially, it is easy to feel frustrated, deflated and angry. Often, the only control we have is choosing how to respond to the reality of a situation. Holy Cross and the Peace Corps encouraged me to look others in the eye and say, “I am with you,” and not shy away from the discomfort and awkwardness of difference.

When we choose to serve, when we see others’ vulnerability and reveal our own, we empower others and our own selves to become agents for good and peace in this tumultuous world. We are changemakers, but we do not become that way alone. We are made stronger, better and more capable through service to others. The choice to serve is rarely easy; it requires constant effort and recommitment. But through service, we are exposed to an indelible, irrefutable truth: That although we exist as creatures of duality and our internal currents ebb and flow from good to bad, it is the greater, more profound good that longs to rise and break at the surface. Service to others allows for that release in our own selves and in one another.

Holy Cross magazine post here. 

For the past two years, I have experienced the challenges of getting back into the swing of things at college like countless other students across the country.  Adjusting to the 2:00 am bedtimes because of an organic chemistry exam, getting your own groceries, or just the general hustle of Mount St. James in the Fall takes some getting used to compared to the relative ease of summer life.  With this season of change, it is always nice to have some form of continuity.  In addition to seeing all of my great friends and professors, it is nice to see some form of continuity past the Linden Lane gates of the College.  For me, this continuity is easy to see through my experiences at the St. Mary Center.  Going in for the first day, I always feel as if I haven’t missed a day.  The same residents sitting in the same spots, playing with the same puzzles, reading the same papers, or talking to the same friends.  When I walk in, there are some residents who remember me and are excited to hear about my stories aboard “the Navy boats” and if I got to see any interesting sights like pods of dolphins (I got to see several different pods!).  We go back and forth talking about our summer experiences and pick up right where we left off in our conversations.  Having this continuity always brings a calming aspect to my life, and I am forever grateful for those at St. Mary and Holy Cross that allow these meaningful relationships to form.

CBL Intern Kara Cuzzone ’19 was selected to deliver the senior address at Convocation for the class of 2022. In her speech, Kara highlighted how her experience with CBL her first year and her experience as a CBL Intern her sophomore and junior years were ones where she felt as though she could be vulnerable and could “show up and be seen.” This vulnerability led Kara to grow and develop personally and academically, as she was able to find community both at her CBL site (St. Mary) and in the CBL Intern community. Read Kara’s speech below to learn more about her experience as in CBL and as a CBL Intern and to read her advice to the incoming first-year class.

If you had told me three years ago that I, Kara Cuzzone, would be up here giving the First-year Convocation address, I would have laughed in your face. To be honest, I don’t remember exactly what was running through my mind during my first-year convocation as I sat in my pew, sardined between my future classmates. But I definitely wasn’t picturing myself at this podium. I think it was something more along the lines of “what am I even doing here?

I’m sure some of you can relate. Some are already a little homesick. Others are excited, your time has finally arrived after counting down the days until move-in day. No matter what you’re feeling, take a deep breath and know that it’s going to be ok.

It’s ironic that I’m standing up here because after my first year at Holy Cross, I wanted to transfer. And I almost did. I even put down a deposit at another school. But something kept me here on the hill. That something is community. It just took me a little while to find it. 

Maybe this is obvious to some of you, but community doesn’t just appear. It’s embarrassing to admit, but I kind of thought it would. I imagined myself showing up on campus, and instantly finding welcoming, life-long friends without any effort on my part. Unsurprisingly, that didn’t happen. Instead, I learned that in order to find community, you have to be vulnerable. And as author and famous TED talk speaker Brené Brown says, that means “showing up and being seen.” Basically first-year Kara’s worst nightmare.

During my first semester at HC, I didn’t feel like myself. I had begun experiencing symptoms of depression and anxiety, which were totally new to me. This wasn’t necessarily because of Holy Cross. I hadn’t felt ready to go to college in general—in fact I’d simply respond ‘don’t talk about it’ whenever my parents brought it up the summer before. So when I arrived, it felt a little like I’d been thrown in the deep end of the pool without warning. As a result, I saw most things at Holy Cross through a pretty pessimistic lens. But through times where I opened up and made myself vulnerable, that began to change and I began to build a community.

The first time I tried the whole vulnerability thing was with my Montserrat Professor, Virginia Ryan. One day, out of sheer desperation, I opened up to her about the fact that I was struggling. Not only was she empathetic, but she confessed that she too suffers from anxiety, and that she went through something similar at my age. Since then, I have cried many tears in her office, and I now consider her not only a mentor, but one of my good friends. Seriously, we text, and she even sends me Bitmojis. Being vulnerable with Professor Ryan, and her willingness to be vulnerable in return, was my first encounter with the power of community at Holy Cross.

A few months later, I chose to be a little vulnerable again by going on an Immersion trip instead of going home for spring break. A family friend who was a senior had suggested it. She said the trip which students call Appa, short for Appalachia, was one of the best experiences she’d had at Holy Cross. So I went. I found myself in rural Ivanhoe, Virginia, meeting residents, doing yard work, and laughing until my sides hurt with nine people who became some of my best friends on campus. But that only happened because I allowed myself to be vulnerable. During our evening reflection one night, my leader Jane led the way by sharing something deeply personal with us. In turn, I was moved to share that I was going through a difficult time. She immediately grabbed my hand, and cried with me. As we stayed up talking, cocooned in our sleeping bags on the hardwood floor of a firehouse, my Appa family deepened my faith in the community that can be found here on the hill.

Finding community through being vulnerable became even more apparent to me during my sophomore year when I became a Community-Based Learning, or CBL, intern. My motivation for applying for the position came from a desire to continue to experience the deep connections I had started to find through allowing myself to show up and be seen. For my Montserrat course, I had been regularly visiting a nun, Sister Marie, at St. Mary Health Care Center. At first, the visits scared me because they forced me to face difficult topics like aging and death which I would have much rather ignored. But I kept going. By just showing up and being open, I developed a loving friendship with Sister Marie that I have maintained to this day. Through the intern program itself, I have gained a support system where I can be vulnerable. I feel welcome and encouraged to be myself inside those walls, and I have cried some tears in that office too. My little home in the CBL Office has become a kind of community that I didn’t even know I needed.

If there’s one thing to take away from these examples, it’s this: take advantage of the many opportunities Holy Cross provides to show up and be seen because as Brené Brown says, “in order for connection to happen, we have to let ourselves be seen—truly seen.” That’s what I’ve done, and it’s lead me to create my own club, start my own art business, and even get published in Cosmopolitan magazine during the NYC semester program. As a first-year student, I could never have imagined that I would go on to do all of these things, especially at Holy Cross, which was the last place I wanted to be at first. But through allowing myself to be vulnerable, here I am. The opportunities to establish community that I’ve found at Holy Cross not only led me to meet life-long friends, they helped me to find myself. Showing up and allowing myself to be seen has shaped me into a version of myself that I never even dreamed possible. And, if you let it, showing up and being vulnerable can shape you too. Just be open to it.

Positive Directions, a program that works to assist 9th graders in achieving success in their first year of high school and beyond, came for a campus visit of Holy Cross during our summer program to expose our students to college campuses early on in their high school careers. Partnering with Holy Cross has been a great experience for our students. Having tutors who are freshman in college working with our freshman in high school makes a great relationship. Freshman year in both high school and college is a huge transition and I am glad to have the holy cross students  be there to help my students. We have been visiting Holy cross for the past three years. The students really enjoy visiting the campus, especially Kimball. We look forward to continue visiting Holy Cross. In the future we are planning to not only attend basketball games but football as well. We also look forward to having the tutors year round and building those positive connections. See our group posing in front of Dinand Library with our HC tour guide below.

For more about the Positive Directions program, read this spotlight of Positive Directions in the T and G.

This semester, I have come to appreciate CBL through a lack of it. I’m participating in the New York City semester program, and being away from Holy Cross, I had to put my CBL commitments on hold.

I came to the city with every intention of continuing community engagement. I even found an organization, Free Arts New York City, which I hoped to volunteer with during my free time here. Then life got in the way. I realized that a full time internship, a class, and a capstone paper were going to take up more time than I thought they would. Free Arts NYC was also looking for more long-term volunteers, so there went my community engagement plans.

Before coming to New York, I thought that immersion with all sorts of people would be inevitable. And it is, to some degree. You’re often confined to a subway car with 20 or 30 strangers, many of whom are different than you. That said, people rarely talk, and subway rides are pretty short in the grand scheme of things.

I’m also living in Brooklyn Heights. It’s absolutely beautiful, and only about a five minute walk from the Brooklyn Bridge. That said, it’s also incredibly homogenous. It’s a predominantly white, affluent neighborhood. Between my neighborhood and my job at Hearst tower, there’s not a whole lot of opportunity to meet and learn from people who have vastly different experiences of New York City.

This weekend, I was reminded of that. I ordered an Uber home from La Guardia airport, and my driver was a middle aged, cheery Bangladeshi man named Mohhamad. He asked me how long my flight was, and told me that it takes a 24 hour flight to get to his home country. He told me that he works nights, and sleeps from 5am to 2pm. Mohhamad explained that for him, driving for Uber is a dream compared to the jobs he had to work when he first arrived in New York City 2 years ago. Then, he went on to tell me all about Bangladeshi food and insisted that I try some, just like he tried pizza when he came here.

When I got out of the car, I realized I was beaming. My interesting conversation with Mohhamad had sparked my love of connection across difference, which hadn’t been ignited in a while. As I reflected on it, I realized that I’ve been missing out on a lot of joy this semester by not participating in CBL or community engagement. My ride with Mohammad reminded me how much I enjoy connecting with people and learning about experiences that are different from mine.

By not having CBL this semester, I’ve definitely gained a new appreciation for it. I’ve realized my life is so much richer, and I feel more fulfilled when I’m building relationships with people who I might not necessarily meet in my day to day life. As the semester comes to a close, I’m eager to get back to the Worcester community and most importantly, my CBL friend Sister Marie at St. Mary.

As an intern for the Donelan Office of Community-Based Learning, getting the chance to meet Mr. Joe Donelan ’72, the founder of our office, was an opportunity that I and many of the other interns felt we couldn’t pass up. During the time that I met with Mr. Donelan, he asked what has been most meaningful to me about my involvement in both CBL and the Intern Program and if I had any idea of what I want to do after graduating Holy Cross. He told stories of his passion for involvement in the community and shared guidance on how to continue this engagement in the future. Many of the interns can agree that the CBL Intern Program has greatly impacted not only our involvements on campus but also what we want to pursue post-graduation. This is demonstrated by some of our senior interns, who shared with Mr. Donelan that they recently have been accepted to positions in Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest, Peace Corps in Rwanda, and City Year in Boston. Because I am only a sophomore, plans for after graduation seem very distant, but I know they will be here before I know it. As our conversation continued, I told Mr. Donelan that I have been considering sharing life with a L’Arche Community post-graduation. Talking with and listening to Mr. Donelan was a refreshing reminder of some of the goals of our office, and was greatly appreciated by all of the interns. Furthermore, on behalf of the entire CBL office, I would like to thank Mr. Donelan for his extremely generous donation that has allowed for our office to exist! We are incredibly grateful for his dedication to Holy Cross, our student body, and the city of Worcester.

On Wednesday, April 18th, we had the opportunity to bring community partners to campus for a reception to thank them for all that they do to welcome, support, and co-educate Holy Cross students engaging in experiential learning. This event was co-hosted by the Teacher Education Program, Government and Community Relations, and SPUD. CBL Intern, Clare Orie ’19 had the opportunity to share words of gratitude with the folks in attendance. Below is her speech. Thank you to all of our community partners for making CBL not only possible, but a meaningful and engaging experience.

I’d like to first thank all of our community partners, who have kindly and generously opened their arms to Holy Cross students everyday. I believe I speak for many when I say that I have grown immensely – spiritually, academically, and personally – through engaging with your organizations.  Mornings spent in Ascentria’s ESL Classrooms and in AVID classes in Worcester public schools and evenings at the Marie Anne Center have unwaveringly led me to build more meaningful relationships with so many in the Worcester community, year after year, and this has entirely to do with your welcoming spirit and encouragement. Thank you.

Mary Oliver, one of my favorite poets, reminds us: “That’s the big question, the one the world throws at us every morning: “Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?”” .  I’d like to say that my community engagement experiences, notably through Community-Based Learning, have helped me learn how to answer that question. CBL has encouraged me to thoughtfully and critically reflect on how to engage in our community and our world.  It has taught me that genuine cultural exchange is not an extractive engagement: it is an opening of heart to the entirety of another’s reality and way of life, and a vowing to never close it.

My experience with Ascentria provides an example of how this opening of heart can occur through community engagement. Through Ascentria’s Services for New Americans program, I had the privilege to serve as an English teacher’s aide in a classroom of recently arrived refugees. As the room was filled with adults from around the world, all speaking many different languages, communication in the conventional meaning was rather difficult. Yet, every Monday morning, community happened away. The hugs given, the hands on backs, and the laughs ensuing from trying to explain words in different languages all taught me that in a room where barely any words are comprehensibly exchanged and understood, mutual vulnerability and togetherness fundamentally connect us all. I leave my four years here smiling at the pieces of ripped paper with addresses in Cameroon, Somalia, and Vietnam, from students who tell me I have another family with their families, and feel very grateful.

Through opening your doors to Holy Cross students, myself included, you have invited me to put faces and names to complex global realities. The many mornings, afternoons, and evenings spent at your organizations have taught me that community-identified needs and meaningful engagement are reciprocal in value and benefit. These experiences have truly lead to me recognize the legitimacy and necessity of contributing thoughtfully to the future of others.  I have been truly touched by the power of love and connectedness, and I will continue to pursue the works of such to confront that which denies human wellbeing and solidarity to so many in our world.

Father Greg Boyle, S.J. tells us that “The strategy of Jesus is not centered in taking the right stand on issues, but rather in standing in the right place” – in, perhaps, kindergarten classrooms, with residents in health care facilities, in sharing a community meal, or in ESL classrooms. On behalf of all Holy Cross students that participate in community engagement with your organizations, I want to thank you for welcoming us to stand alongside you in the right place. Thank you.

This is my second semester as a CBL intern, and the experience has been unbelievably amazing so far. Working in the office has help me develop many different skills that I can apply in my day to day life, but the most important one is developing meaningful relationship with community members while being aware of my privilege. This specific trait was very important throughout the week of Spring break.

I spent the week in Wheeling, West Virginia where my group and I volunteered at the soup kitchen. Our main goal was to develop relationships with the patrons who attend the soup kitchen daily. However, they explicitly told us that we were not there to be “tourists of poverty” but to be part of the community for a week. That really got me thinking, and it made me realize that is what we do in CBL.

Although I was worried I was not going to be able to connect with anyone at first, thinking about my past CBL sites made the process easier. By the end of the week, I knew most of the patrons at the soup kitchen. However, one of these patrons stood out. His name is Dale and he shared with us how he gets through the week in a positive manner:

“When you’re down-n-out think positive:

• Monday: Marvelous
• Tuesday: Terrific
• Wednesday: Wonderful
• Thursday: Thankful
• Friday: Fantastic
• Saturday: Sensational
• Sunday: Satisfied – made it through the week”

Once he said that I knew we all had an irreplaceable relationship with him, one that I couldn’t have had without the valuable skills CBL has taught me. I will forever be grateful for being part of the CBL community.

ITALIANI A WEST BOYLSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

It is amazing how many interesting people my students and I met this semester! Yesterday I have been honored to visit the Circolo Italiano in West Boylston, few minutes away from Worcester. A considerable number of Italians gathers in the local library on Saturday to speak and nurture their language, traditions and culture. Some of them arrived to the U.S decades ago from Basilicata, Rome, Naples, some are Dante’s readers and lovers, other art professors. Each of them has a story to share. They welcomed us and offered coffee and cookies. Isabel Marinus does a great job coordinating everybody and organizing the activities.

Yesterday we discussed the writer Dacia Maraini in Italian. Time flew by. We all can’t wait to return to West Boylston again and continuing the conversation right where we left off.”For on that is the mind fed wherein it is gladdened”, Saint Augustine, Confessions, book XIII.