I have not been happy in Boston.
It's not that Boston is not a nice city. It is!
It's not that I don't have people I can become friends with. I do!
It's not that there isn't a church community--at least one!--that I can join. There is!
I moved there for work, and work is both the joy and the problem.
I have been given a position that allows me to use several of my (administrative, bilingual, counseling, and collaborative) gifts in meaningful and relational ways. I feel respected by my colleagues and a sense of influence with my students. My hours are 7:30 am to 4 pm, and I have enough time to myself outside of work. It's busy but not overwhelming or stressful. Joy is strength, and even in times when I lack it, He gives it.
At the same time, many structures (that subtly favor patriarchy and white supremacy) are in place, and I haven't quite felt like myself in Boston. People tend to follow gender rules and "normal" life stage choices. There are a lot of cultural Catholics, but my understanding of following Jesus sometimes goes against sociably acceptable (read: safe) forms of religiosity. There are a lot of decent human beings, but sometimes more Grace and Love are required for one to feel truly empowered.
Success at work often depends on my ability to stroke the egos of white men in the right direction, to be a hard-working person of color and a woman to defers to men--while allowing them to take much of the credit for success and none of the blame for failure. Many of my students have said that they feel unfairly treated, and policies do not accurately reflect the needs of the students or teachers--the people the institution exists to serve. Welcome to reality outside the bubble again, I've told myself countless times. It's not like I've never been there before.
My time at Yale was, in some respects, like spending time in a greenhouse--where I was warm and protected and could cultivate many branches and flowers. I have now been transplanted to Boston, where I have more space to breath but where roots must also push harder to find anchorage.
If I view this Boston season as one of pruning, then I can look at things much more happily. If I really believe that I am to go against the grain when Christ calls me to, to embrace my identity as an Asian-American woman in a society that voted Trump into office, and to be an agent of God's Kin-dom, then my work experience right now may be a time of learning how to subvert the system and respect those in power while also helping those who cannot advocate for themselves.
If I can be faithful in the plot of land to which the Spirit seems to have called me for now, maybe one day the branches that truly matter can grow strong and extend to provide shade for a wider circle--for Christendom and beyond. What remains for me to do right now is to abide. For without the true vine, I can do nothing...
