Blogging this semester clearly has been a struggle for me. For good reasons, I think. As my days left in Erzurum dwindle, I’ve doing my best to spend the most time I can with friends and students and see as much of this country and this part of the world before I’m back on the other side of the ocean. I’ve had some wonderful trip this spring: north to Trabzon for Easter, south to the beaches of Cyprus, further north to Kiev to visit the Engstroms and celebrate Orthodox Easter and I have two more trips scheduled for May to the beaches of Bodrum in the West and the sandy Southeastern cities of Adiyaman and Mardin. (Personal accomplishment: I have finally posted facebook photos of these travels (although it’s 11 pm and lesson plans still must be written!). I’ve been doing my best so that my students do not suffer from these trips but clearly my blogging has.
I was asked to write a letter for the development office at Mercy about my time abroad. The request was to write about how my Mercy education has impacted my life in Turkey. I actually enjoyed writing it and thinking about the 5 Mercy values (Mercy girls, say them with me): mercy, justice, human dignity, option for the poor, and service. Although I’ve certainly discussed these topics already with many of you who follow my blog, I wanted to share the letter here.
To my Mercy Girls All Over the World:
I spent this past year as a Fulbright English Teaching Assistant in the city of Erzurum in Eastern Turkey. I teach English to Turkish students, some of whom are first year engineering students at a university and others are practicing physicians at a local hospital. I'm one of only four Americans in the city and only a handful of English speakers of any kind --although my students are slowly joining that group! Erzurum is a snowy, conservative city in the mountains--a far cry from Mercy High in suburban Detroit. With reflection, however, I realize that the values I learned
between those North and South halls on Eleven Mile are still inextricably woven into my experience in Eastern Anatolia.
From Turkey, when I think about Mercy, I think about the Mercy girls who were my closest friends. In Erzurum, unmarried men and women interact socially less often than in the U.S.A. In Turkey, it is only socially acceptable for an unmarried woman like me to have girlfriends. Being a Mercy girl, I see something wonderfully familiar and natural about birthday celebrations with my Turkish friends: there are cupcakes, movie nights and sleepovers. Friendships between females in Turkey are similar to those at Mercy in other ways too. At work each day, one of my co-workers inevitably asks everyone on the floor where we should eat and a collective decision is made, no one is left out. When someone has an idea about going to a movie, she often will post the idea on her facebook page so anyone who wants to come, can. I learned to value such inclusivity and communication at Mercy--where I was taught to be a good friend. I miss my Mercy sisters everyday but thanks to the example they set for me of friendship, I know I will one day miss my Erzurum sisters too.
After sisterhood, the next word that comes to mind when I think of Mercy is diversity. As one coming from Detroit, I appreciated the effort made at Mercy to attract a student body from all communities. Mercy's teachers and administrators taught me that diversity did not simply appear after providing enough bus routes, but through conversation and intentional actions. Programs like Ethnic Bazaar and classes like Race Relations taught me that diversity must be valued but also worked towards. I have mulled over these lessons many times when I've engaged my students and co-workers in conversations about diversity in Turkey--a topic that is never easy. Turkey's history with minorities is a painful one as ethnic groups were forced out of the country or killed during its foundation. Their troubles are far from over and can still be glimpsed in my classrooms when the seating arrangement is sometimes based on ethnicity. Turkey's relationship with diversity is far too complicated for me, a foreigner in Turkey for only one year, to completely comprehend, but when
conversations on the topic turn pessimistic, I often turn inward to the ideals I learned at Mercy--that unity in diversity can be achieved through thoughtful discourse and process.
Next--faith. The faith that I established at Mercy has grown this year in Erzurum, in the way I hope it continues to grow each year of my life. The faith tradition of my neighbors, students and friends in Erzurum is nominally very different from the faith I cultivated at Mercy. The closest
Catholic Church is a five hour bus ride to the north. The minarets of three mosques that I see from my apartment window are signs that demonstrate the faith of this city. I am consistently inspired by the piety and devotion of my students, all of whom are Muslim. The care they take to say their
prayers on time and the meticulous preparation for those prayers reminds me of the importance of prayer and reflection in my own life. I remember my Kairos leader reminding us that God can be found in all actions made with love. I recall this truth when I see the love for God in the religious
practices of the people around me.
I still aspire to be that woman who Catharine MaCaulay and all the teachers I had at Mercy expect me to be, a woman who makes a difference. With their help and the example and friendship of all my Mercy sisters, I think I am on the right path.
Forever a Mercy girl,
HM
HM
