Learning from a Ministry of Presence

Gosh, where to begin. Another school year is upon us. In August I always wonder what tectonic shift the new school year will bring, as every year it seems like some elephant looms large in the (class)room. For a while it was social media and screen time. Then it was the pandemic, and then regrouping from the pandemic, which I think we might still be doing. Last year it was AI. Sometimes it’s a political election or new state legislation. Maybe it’s a new administration in your school or some institutional change that requires big adjustments, like moving into a new building. Regardless, on the eve of a new school year my question is always the same: what change will educators face this year that will push them out of their comfort zones? 

This summer I visited Peru with a non-profit called the Quispicanchi Project. They offer an “Encuentro” (Spanish for encounter) service trip to high school students each year, and because they are partnering with my school this spring, I scouted the trip for our students and experienced the programming as they will, including thematic reflections and the project’s pedagogy. 

One of the Quispicanchi Project's partner schools

Quispicanchi is a mountainous, rural region of Peru filled with small pueblos that each house a parish of the “Ruta del Barroco Andino,” or the Andean Baroque route of 16th century Catholic churches. The Quispicanchi Project provides support to parishes in Andahuaylillas, Ccatca, Huaro, Ocongate, and Urcos as well as Sullyumayu, a community of roughly 300 families living in the remote highlands above Huaro. Because many of the families live in poverty (defined as a monthly income of 330 soles, or $150 or less), many families lack access to running water and nutrient dense foods, subsisting mostly on rice and potatoes. In addition to experiencing malnutrition and anemia, many children do not continue past primary school. Transportation to and from school can take hours and mining companies promise higher wages, exposing children to bonded labor and child trafficking. 

What made my experience so special was seeing how, within this context, friendship is the founding principal of the project. Project founder and Jesuit Dallas alum, Dr. Michael Reimer, began our trip by offering us a few meditative and framing readings, one of which was an excerpt from Henri Nouwen on “The Ministry of Presence”: 

More and more, the desire grows in me simply to walk around, greet people, enter their homes, sit on their doorsteps, play ball, throw water, and be known as someone who wants to live with them. It is a privilege to have the time to practice this simple ministry of presence. Still, it is not as simple as it seems. My own desire to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings, conferences, study groups, and workshops that prevent me from walking the streets. It is difficult not to have plans, not to organize people around an urgent cause, and not to feel that you are working directly for social progress. But I wonder more and more if the first thing shouldn’t be to know people by name, to eat and drink with them, to listen to their stories and tell your own, and to let them know with words, handshakes, and hugs that you do not simply like them, but truly love them” (Gracias: A Latin American Journal, 1983).

Michael then asked us the same questions he asks the students on their first night:

1) Now that you have arrived in Quispicanchi, what are some of your hopes, desires, and/or uncertainties for the days ahead?

2) What about the ministry of presence resonates with you as comfortable or familiar? What aspects of this approach might be challenging or difficult this week?

3) Realizing that not all successful immersions are life-changing, what are some ways that you can be intentionally open to growth and learning from those you will form friendships with in Quispicanchi?

The ministry of presence is a theme we continually explore in our writing on Her Voice at the Table, but also, when I read the words, “my own desire to be useful, to do something significant, or to be part of some impressive project is so strong that soon my time is taken up by meetings…around an urgent cause,” I died a little, I felt so seen. Let’s see if I can break down why. 

Talking with Quechua women in Sullyumayu

Urgency is the ethos of so much in education. My friend Sarette who worked for Teach for America used to joke about their mantra “If not me, who? If not now, when?” Teachers are born to solve problems, to help, to be the answer, to dive on the grenade, to fix the leak in the dam. And wow, bless all educators for this sacred work. But the nature of helping is to sometimes lose perspective–how could educators not? I feel so much respect for the task I’ve been entrusted with, I lose perspective all the time. I can criticize myself for hours after I make a professional decision, or have a difficult talk with a student or a colleague. I go down a rabbit hole of self-doubt so deep, I forget that we are all just people helping each other in some small way. Often my desire to be perfect in all ways is tied to my desire to complete the “big, impressive project” of education, per Nouwen’s wise counsel. 

And being fixated on the big, impressive project does not make presence easy. Michael talked about how the college students who come to Quispicanchi and stay longer for the project’s internship called the "Companion" program sometimes struggle with the ministry of presence. Many of them are ambitious students and expect to say they “did something” meaningful for the local community while in Quispicanchi. I mean, of course, right? For example, one student I met had overhauled the non-profit’s accounting software and another had run the store that sells textiles and handmade items from the local women, updating their POS and online materials. But a few expressed frustration that their project was not at all finished as they were preparing to leave the country. Another student worked with us on the upcoming menstruation awareness campaign being coordinated in secondary schools with another local non-profit. She felt she had spent more time just hanging out at the school and playing with the kids than completing meaningful work. Not to accomplish something big or headline-worthy means you wasted time or worse, didn’t get the job done. And I get it! Mission accomplished is the American work ethic, and finishing projects is how kids learn they will be labeled a success, polish their resumes, and in return, advance into a well-lived, if not charmed, life. 

Weaving a bracelet with my friend Sarah

So Michael and his colleagues coach the students to see that what may matter more than accomplishing a task is building relationships with the people you are trying to help. Rather than parachuting in and making assumptions about what people might need, he splits his time between Quispicanchi and Dallas and has built many relationships with locals over the years. As his colleague Gina House noted, they want the local community to be the ones who feel empowered to talk to her and Michael and identify how the Quispicanchi Project can collaborate with them, as it is their community, and any project will be more meaningful if it is the community’s own. But it takes a long time for people in any context to build the trust and confidence in others to voice their deepest needs. In other words, be this vulnerable. 

We have written a lot about presence in a time of general distraction because we work with digital natives and the science is in–digital life breaks down a human’s attention span. So now I am thinking about the ministry of presence as a principle in helping vulnerable students. We feel an urgency to accomplish the big project of raising, educating, and supporting them. We take this project seriously, as we should, and want so badly to do big, important things for and with them. We feel various personal callings to this work, through our spiritual lives, our past experiences, or even just our joy and love of young people. This urgency may lead us to hurry, to overbook, to hustle, to move so quickly we turn to a tool like AI to help us generate our emails and speak basic words for us. We feel a blind need to do everything, amazing, all at once and then step into a room of young nervous systems and expect them to model after us and trust us with their care.

The flowers of Peru are so beautiful

I imagine our students feel the same tension between the fulfillment from big, important things, and the humble and quiet moments that define the ministry of presence. Maybe this school year, the big project or big change to consider is not so much external, but internal. I mean, AI is not going away (you’ve heard?), and Her Voice at the Table will continue to write about the systemic challenges facing classroom teachers. This year I am beginning my new role as a counselor and look forward to writing about education through this different lens. But when I was in Quispicanchi I witnessed how the collaboration between the project and the parishes was helping so many people live safer, nourished lives as a result of years invested in the relationship. I thought about encuentro, or encounter and asked myself if, especially in my work as a counselor this year, to encounter my students through my presence will be enough of a goal for me. Perhaps the big change outside of my comfort zone is to imagine that it will. 

For more information about the Quispicanchi Project, please visit https://www.quispicanchi.org/.