The phrase “spring break” brings a number of stereotypical images to mind – sandy beaches, palm trees, wild parties in Mexico, etc. But what about old jeans, paint splatters, and work gloves? Do such things belong with the phrase “spring break”? The answer is YES. Absolutely, without a doubt – yes.
This past spring break, I spent a week with thirteen of my fellow Broncos on an immersion trip to New Orleans, Louisiana. My trip was put on through the Ignatian Center, and is only one of dozens of immersion trips the center offers each year.
What’s an immersion trip? Glad you asked. An immersion trip is not a vacation. An immersion does exactly what its name implies – it immerses you in a community and environment with which you are unfamiliar. On an immersion, you are not there to “help”; you are there to serve.
You don’t have to be a saint to devote a week of time to service. You don’t even have to be Catholic, or “religious” for that matter. You don’t emerge from an immersion “better” than anyone else.
On an immersion, all you are asked to do is have an open mind. You are challenged to push yourself out of your comfort zone within a group of people who are all doing the same. In NOLA, our focus was assisting in rebuilding the city post-Katrina, not only with regards to the physical damage but the larger societal issues as well.
Our group worked with an organization called the St. Bernard Project. St. Bernard works to restore and repair homes that were damaged by Katrina. We woke up every day between 6 and 6:30AM (believe me, it took some getting used to). Breakfast was served until 7AM, at which point we’d divide into various cars and head to the worksites. Together, we worked on three different houses over the course of the week, each in various states of disrepair.
None of us were what you call professional construction workers at the start – most had never picked up a drill. Luckily, each site had two site supervisors who knew the lay of the land (shout out to Jack and Amelia, who worked at my site!). The site supervisors were more than willing to help us and answer any questions. By the end of the week, the SCU team had put up drywall, “mudded” over screws, sanded walls, painted, and much more. At a site, you do the job you are given, but your fellow team members have always got your back.
As I wrote on postcards to my family, the trip was a bit like summer camp on steroids – exhausting, busy, but totally fun. We’d work on the houses for 5 hours each day, and afterwards our group leader Jacquie would whisk us off to the next activity. Every day brought something new, whether it was a tour of New Orleans with a SCU alum or discussions with professionals working in the field of social justice.
The experiences I had with my group were both precious and plentiful. We cheered together as an African American veteran from WWII was finally recognized with a Congressional Medal of Honor. We walked up fifteen-foot levees and heard first-hand stories of the days leading up to and during the disaster. We listened to authentic New Orleans jazz in Preservation Hall. We took wrong turns together, wandered through the French Quarter together, and – ultimately found our way – together.
And ohmygosh, did we EAT together – gumbo, po’boys, alligator. BEIGNETS. You name it, we ate it.
Inside jokes were made (and repeated often). Reflections and feelings were shared. Friendships were formed: all this without cell phones. Yes, you read that right. At the start of the week, we surrendered our phones and I can honestly tell you it was one of the most rewarding aspects of the trip. By the end of the week, I didn’t want mine back. I wholeheartedly believe that the connections I made would not have been nearly as strong if we’d all been distracted by our phones.
I walked into the immersion experience not knowing what to expect, and left with a greater awareness of the world in which I live and the role I want to play in it. I left that week with twelve new friends with whom I share something irreplaceable, and enough good memories to last me a lifetime.
And not once did I wish that I were on a beach tanning or partying in Mexico.
Writer’s Note: Shout out to the Jacquie and the rest of the NOLA crew – the only people who get that “jeans on jeans” is not just a fashion statement, and “I’m sorry, but you DON’T understand” is not just a saying, but a way of life. I miss you guys!
Photo Credits: Austin Yoo