Jen Manlief, transformation, tools and time.
As I read this prompt list, I’m fairly certain my approach was in the opposite order. As I began emerging from my comfortable little insider spot as a youth-group-all-star who knew all the right answers into some independence that showed me areas where my certainty wasn’t so sure, things began unraveling. That was truly the beginning of personal transformation and growth for me. I moved from wanting to possess “rightness”, and be the very right-est, to wanting to know truth, and being willing to follow Truth into some very uncomfortable places. It was pretty slow going, because until I moved to Seattle 6 years ago, the spaces I was in were pretty homogeneously cis-het, Christian, suburban white culture spaces. Even when I lived in the Bay Area, I was learning about liberal communities as an outsider, a scientist – seeking understanding, but not belonging. When I got to Seattle, I had already deconstructed my faith enough to not need to be certain about things, and truly began engaging with people who have different lived experiences than I have had, and not just studying them. It’s really the first time in my life that I’ve been proximate to socioeconomic difference, race difference in spaces where I don’t hold all of the power, gender and sexuality difference, and faith difference. I have stepped out of the safety of observing to engaging and learning from, and truly knowing people who are different than I am.
As I began working with women who were choosing substance abuse recovery and coming out of being unhoused, I learned many things about how people end up in desperate situations. I learned about Adverse Childhood Experiences and Trauma Informed Approach. I learned about different recovery modalities, and different relational constructs. I collected tools, and added them to the “discipleship” kit that I had been collecting in all of my other ministry years. I am discerning, I can listen and care and tell you the truth. Sometime I even pray right in line with what God has in store. When a set of truly silly circumstances put me into a different job in the same field of housing instability and substance use disorder, I learned that so much of my “helping” had been on my own terms- in a way controlling and perpetuating hierarchies that I conveniently held in power in. I learned a new way, that respects the inherent dignity and agency of each person I encounter, and engage with them on their own terms. I don’t deny the reality of their situation, or even their hand in it, but believe that they are doing what they can to create a life, rather than judging them for the ways I and society feel like they have failed. It can be WAY more frustrating when people make the same choices that lead no where and get the same resources over and over, but it’s also more compassionate and humanizing. I can use the tools I’ve gained to work with people to get to where they want to go, rather than controlling them and making them make the “right” decisions that were once so important to me.
But as I get closer and closer to people who are living in desperate situations, I get more and more impatient with solutions that aren’t solving things. In my recent job change, I moved from a privately funded org (which meant that we could really do what we wanted), to a publicly funded one. This comes with grants and explanations and reporting and incremental measures. And I get to watch people I know struggle to stay alive. Not all do. It is a cruel thing to tell someone who is about to lose their vehicle that they live in that we’re waiting to hear what the city and the county are going to fund, and that we hope we’ve made a compelling enough case that it should be the work that we do- even so knowing that us getting funded means that other good work might not. And the solutions we have to offer are half measures at best- because there isn’t housing and counseling and safety and food and health available for all, or even most, so we will do our best to keep your car running, so that it doesn’t get taken, and get you a pack of cigarettes, and a tank of gas, and some coffee, and we’ll argue in meetings and write the grants, and know that none of this conveys how truly valuable your humanity is, because as a society we’ve decided that some people are expendable. It’s so hard to reconcile the idea that real change takes time with the knowledge that the time it takes costs deeply the people who need the change most. Some days I want to throw the apple cart over at the injustice of it all- to burn it down and start over. And almost all of the days, I put away the matches and head back to my desk to write the grants, and find the money, and encourage the outreach workers, and remove the barriers that I can remove, and see the people who God loves deeply, and try to love them too.
8 comments
Oh what rich conversation. Your words are eloquent, honest and rich Jen, and your wrestling, oh so real. I have been weighing the TIME piece that Jer and Brandon mentioned, alongside the people and the urgency as I listen and read and reflect. I was also struck by your description of your own evolution from “seeking understanding, but not belonging,” to now finding it seems, so much belonging as your horizons are less controlled as you immerse yourself into the lives and stories of the everyday of people. I just finished listening to the Global Immersion podcast about gun violence (highly recommend) and Mike of RAWtools stated,”When you pat attention to people, it significantly increases their life expectancy.” Jen, I hear you paying attention to people (including your own self-needs). Can you reflect more on how that paying attention influences the life expectancy, and life quality, of the day to day, and the macro-policy-power world you are engaging with?
This line you wrote:
“It’s so hard to reconcile the idea that real change takes time with the knowledge that the time it takes costs deeply the people who need the change most.”
Everything good takes time… Why is that? Why does justice, peacemaking, and about everything else that is a path towards healing and wholeness take time. Beautiful writing and thoughts Jen. You have my mind spinning!
And why are violence and injustice so easy, efficient, and generationally destructive?
Thanks for offering this, Brandon. It strengthens my resolve for the slow, communal work of joining God in the undoing and remaking. It’s work that’s worth our lives.
Jen. Thank you for this. This line, in particular, struck me: “It’s so hard to reconcile the idea that real change takes time with the knowledge that the time it takes costs deeply the people who need the change most.” This is where I struggle as well. I appreciate the notion that you set down the matches and get back to work…but what do you do with the urgency…with the ache? What do you turn to when grant writing doesn’t feel like enough?
It depends on the day and where my head and my heart are, honestly. I do have some places where I am “doing” things built into my life. I volunteer weekly at Peer Seattle, which is a peer model recovery org that focuses on the LGBTQ+ community- I just sit at the front desk and check people in and chat with them, but it is encouraging to me to see people who are actively seeking recovery in their lives. It gives me hope that the folks I’m working with can move forward- that it is a possibility. Having places that help me feel hope is something that is protective to keep me from falling super deep into despair.
But also, I’m learning that there is a value to sitting in the ache, and not trying to bright-side my way out of it. I’m learning lament, and how to move through it and let it fuel my work, but having boundaries so that it doesn’t walk it’s way right down the path to destructive behaviors. (current bad-day solution behaviors are: buying things off instagram ads, numbing with familiar TV shows, processed foods). I do have a few friends who are also in this specific work, and so a good rant session about all of the ways the world doesn’t work with people who are in it can be a helpful way out of ditches.
I find that checklists and organizing and tangible work can be an antidote to the overwhelm- but it’s also easy to get focused on things that can be band-aids, because it feels better, and not get back to the work of the slow, incremental change. I probably swing back and forth more than I’d like, but maybe one day I’ll have the elusive “right balance” of action and system work that gets things done, keeps me grounded and centered, and is effective.
Yes. So convicting to read your reflections on learning to sit in the ache, not bright-side it away, and embracing lament. This seems to be such an underdeveloped muscle for many of us. I’d love to know if and how those you’re serving are teaching you about lament.
Jen, you are a gifted writer, I felt your heart; the love and frustration for the arena you are working within. I can completely relate especially to watching the ones you know God loves be treated as less than. I am also inspired that you are using your power and privilege to work to create change. For me, knowing this work is a calling and a marathon, not a sprint helps me to deal with some frustrations. Keep it up, sister, you are doing great things!
I have no idea what the Elementor #1269 is, but I also couldn’t figure out how to make it go away.