by tashmcgill | May 1, 2012 | Culture & Ideas, Prose & Poetry
I wrote a poem once that included a line about love letters written on paper somehow being more convincing than their digital counterparts. At the time I was writing emails to a friend far away and every time I hit send, I felt like there was just a little something missing.
For a girl who always wanted to be a writer, it’s no surprise I spend a lot of my time playing with words. But they’re always words on a screen. So rarely do I get to see and experience those words in print. I used to wonder with amazement how writers could spend hours with their handwritten manuscripts – concurrently admiring and despising the words crossed out and rearranged in blue, black, red ink. Red ink looks so angry on the page, but it’s so compelling.
Dissecting the anatomy of every sentence – why change that word? Why choose another? What made that word better, stronger, softer?
Now in my work, I thrash out words, flinging them into the digital world as if I have an endless supply. It’s so hard to choose your words so selectively – there is no margin to the paper, no running off the end of the page or abruptly changing the size of my scrawl to eek out another syllable or two onto the page.
I don’t want to make digital things always. I want to smell paper and ink, newsprint and binding glue. I want to write the kinds of phrases that people are compelled to write out onto Post-It notes, stuck to monitors. *A permanent indelible mark.
The kind of work you can write as an inscription on the inside cover of a book or one day worthy of printing inside hardbound covers. To write the kind of work you give to someone you love like you are exchanging a great secret, entrusting some great treasure into the hands of another.
And therefore, just like that – I am a writer after all. Tucked inside a leather journal, fit to bust – all the good words, I’ve been saving them up to pass on as delicious mysteries, as if to say ‘Here it is, my whole heart and every crevice of imagination tucked into a binding I’ve made just for you.’
by tashmcgill | Mar 20, 2012 | Spirituality, Youth Work
Well, it’s 17 days til I break my Lenten fast. Before you start quibbling, I’m following the liturgical calendar, not the Orthodox, so I’ll be finishing on Maundy Thursday. That’s 17 days (or more importantly, nights) away.
Usually about this time in the fast, I’m starting to have some clarity about the questions I entered into it with. As I said here, there are a lot of good reasons to consider giving up a habit to reconsider the place it has in your life and the rippling after effects.
It used to be so easy – Eastercamp would beckon and so my 40 days were easily counted out in preparation, busyness, late nights working with friends on all manner of creative projects. Since those days are long over, it’s been funny to watch Lent all of a sudden becoming popular again among the evangelicals as well as the more liturgical traditions. Of course, for some it’s hard to conceive that anyone who isn’t Catholic would partake.
Here’s what I’ve experienced anyway.
1. There was no hardship in giving up. Only once have I desired a glass of wine, as there was a chill in the air and I was eating something hearty. I’ve been to parties, dinners, drinks at the bar and many more occasions managing to stay true to my decision. I’m really glad, because if it had really grieved me to give it up – I would have been disappointed in myself and concerned for the role alcohol was playing in my life.
2. I’ve been pleased to still hang out in the same places and see people behind the bar cater for me well and (mostly) without too much grief. Can’t necessarily be said for those on the other side of the bar, but that’s part of the attraction for me; the colourful characters that you discover.
3. Focusing on not drinking has brought… well, focus to other parts of my life. There was a brief detox period where I felt sluggish for a couple of days, drank a lot of water and green tea, feeling ill like I would throw up at every training session. For the most part though, my focus has increased and my productivity too.
4. But I do miss it. I miss drinking with friends, I miss tasting the creations of my friendly genii behind the bar. I miss the opportunity to be out and about to try whatever takes my fancy. I miss wine-matching. So I’m looking forward to the 5th, when I will break my fast with something delicious and in the company of friends, first at a Maundy Thursday service and then at the bar before we close it down for another Good Friday holiday.
And thus, here comes Easter – that aching, painful, beautiful gap in my heart. I am looking forward to another break, I’m looking forward to a good party and some great food. I’m looking forward to sharing some good stories and partaking in some brilliant creative endeavors in my community.Wouldn’t change a thing. For those of you who follow the journey of Eastercamp, I begin to wonder (through Lent) if the years we spent wondering if this was the last year, were just years we spent procrastinating the fear of ‘not being there’, ‘not being useful’, ‘not playing my role’. Now I think – the first year I asked the question, is the year I should have quit. Thankfully it was, I just got fired first.
by tashmcgill | Mar 19, 2012 | Church, Spirituality, youth ministry, Youth Work
The kids are rowdy and excitable this particular Friday night. It’s been a while since I made an appearance at our church community youth programme. Most of these students are between 10 and 15 years old, from a couple of local intermediate schools, friends of friends and a few church community folks as well.
I’m pretty stoked with how this little group is buzzing along – there’s lots of excitement and the leaders are enthusiastic, young and engaged. But I’m not sure they were quite expecting what I pulled outta the bag this youth group night.
For starters, I’m a big believer that when you’re the guest speaker, it’s way easier to go where the kids are, get them to show their colours a little bit and win them over by making sure they’re having fun. I don’t need them to listen to me talk for 30 mins – I want them to be engaged with each other, and with what I’m talking about for ten minutes.
The topic for the night is the one you always get a guest speaker for. It’s not the sex talk, that’s probably still six months away – but I’m talking about the difference between girls and guys, to a motley crew of middle school (intermediate) and junior high kids.
Here’s how it rolled out.
After a few games and snacks; it was “guest speaker” time. I busted the students out; boys on one side of the room, girls on the other. I gave them a couple of big sheets of paper, some pens and asked each group to draw/write/describe their ideal guy & girl. No surprise, the noise and laughter in the room exploded, but not before I gave the leaders some special instructions. Whatever happened, I wanted the groups to be as honest as possible.
About ten minutes later, the activity was done and we pinned those ideals up on the wall. I started out by talking about how everyone’s probably told them they’re at a critical stage of life and that they’re really kinda lucky – because there’s a lot of study going into what’s happening for them. Then I followed through by saying – some of this stuff is helpful for you to know, so you don’t feel caught out by surprise.
I pointed out a few differences between the way each group thought about the opposite sex, but also how they came up with the answers. Here are a few..
1. The girls used dozens and dozens of words to describe their ideal guy & girl; the boys put almost all their energy into drawing rather than words.
2. The boys described lots of activities, the girls lots of qualities.
3. The girls thought the ideal guy had to have tattoos, the boys thought the ideal woman wouldn’t have any tattoos.
4. The boys described the ideal girl as being someone who loved video games, sport, didn’t take too long in the bathroom, wasn’t grumpy and like hanging out with their friends. The girls responded by saying “your ideal girl is just a guy that looks like a girl!”.
Then we talked all the stuff it could mean, as well as some other development facts to reassure them what normal can be. I’m a big fan of reassuring people when you’re doing any kind of adolescent development talk.
The boys asked a really insightful question: “Why is it when girls are hanging out at school, when a guy walks past them, they all stop talking? And how come girls can be so mean to each other?” I thought that was a great opportunity to talk about the differences between how guys and girls compare themselves to each other. That girls often compare negatively but guys can compare in an affirming way. It was a fascinating conversation.
Then it was time to wrap up the night, with a few more laughs – especially with those boys that had decided Megan Fox was the ideal woman. I was done, and they were off.
It was in the wrap-up afterwards, that I realized a bunch of those young leaders may well have been taken by surprise with the one thing missing. I didn’t mention Jesus, God or God’s creation or sex. I eliminated all the “typical” elements of a Christian youth group Guys & Girls talk. Did you notice it?
Sometimes I think it’s way too easy for us to put a Jesus #hashtag on everything we do in youth group, as if it makes broomball spiritual, or somehow makes what we say to young people more relevant and meaningful. But I suspect, it’s part of what inoculates young people to where and when spirituality might be relevant. So sometimes, I think you can be more meaningful without tagging Jesus in as an after-thought.
What do you think?
![Prisoner Or Liberator?]()
by tashmcgill | Feb 24, 2012 | Church, Spirituality, youth ministry
This picture tells the story of Irma Ivanova, a Bulgarian woman who was arrested for drug trafficking (a charge she denied) in Ecuador and at the time of this photo, in 2007, had been imprisoned for 3 years without trial or verdict in her case.
When I saw it, immediately I was reminded of visiting a group of soldiers imprisoned in Fiji for their role in the coup – detained without trial for 5 years. That visit is one of the most moving I remember.
As I am moving through the Lent season, I am reflecting more and more on the phrase Andrew Walls penned (as far as I’m aware) The Gospel as Prisoner and Liberator of Culture, first in his essay of the same name, which also became a chapter in his book. It’s too weighty a title for me to remember off the top of my head, but to be fair – I think the one sentence is enough. It’s become a bit of a motto as a walk a tightrope of tension in my life. (more…)
by tashmcgill | Feb 22, 2012 | Spirituality
Ash Wednesday is a strange day, especially in New Zealand today as we remember the anniversary of the Feb 22. quake in Christchurch. I’ve been writing about the Phoenix mythology lately, as well as fire and it’s all imagery that suits the beginning of a Lenten season. Burn something to ashes, taking it away, seeing what arrives in it’s place. It’s important to remember the role ashes play in cleansing of any sort – fire to sterilize, soap made from ashes since soap was first made. So Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent and time to give something up.
I caught up with a good friend this week and we were talking about all manner of things, including the Lent season and what I was thinking about giving up. At one point he called me an epicurean. It’s not really an insult, to my way of thinking – although I couldn’t tell if it was mockery or envy in his voice. In colloquial terms, to be an epicurean is really to be known as a bit of a foodie, which is me to a T. But dig a little deeper and the word really originally meant someone who was passionate about the sensuality of life, all the senses – not just those to do with food and drink. (more…)
