Ignatian Colleagues: El Salvador Immersion Blog

The Ignatian Colleagues Program (ICP) is a national program designed to educate and form administrators more deeply in Jesuit traditions so they may better articulate, adapt and advance Ignatian mission on their campuses.

Saint Peter's Vice President for Advancement Michael Fazio is visiting El Salvador until February 12 as part of ICP.  Michael is the first member of the administration at Saint Peter's College to participate in this program. Read below to learn about his immersion experiences and check back for frequent updates throughout his trip. Comments for Michael may be left on the Saint Peter's College blog.

FRI 02/12/2010 10:45 P.M.

Today was about new beginnings.

We met in the morning with a representative of Las Dignas, one of the first feminist organizations in El Salvador. Founded in 1990, this group works to prevent violence toward women, to eradicate gender injustice in the workforce and in education, and to ensure the civil rights of lesbians. Sadly, despite a new government that promised “change,” the representation of women in Salvadoran government is now as low as it was when the Peace Accords were signed in 1992.

In the afternoon we met with Trina and Kevin Yonkers, the directors of Casa de Solidaridad. Fr. Mark Ravizza, S.J. who works with Casa, was also there. As I noted earlier in the week, the Casa program is a study abroad experience run out of Santa Clara whereby students, primarily from Jesuit institutions, work in El Salvador to both teach and learn.

Both of these visits are wonderful examples of what it means to be Ignatian. Why? Because they focus on action. The academic world often gets trapped somewhere between “experience” and “reflection.” A situation is witnessed and then it is analyzed. The Ignatian paradigm takes it one major step further. We are called to act and act in a particular way – with an emphasis on justice and a preferential option for the poor. I have spent nearly half my life in Jesuit institutions. But I think now – finally – I’m starting to get it.

The best way to experience something is to actually have direct contact with the situation. Fr. Kolvenbach, the former Superior General of the Society of Jesus, told us that solidarity is learned through "contact" rather than through "concepts." You have to have your feet on the ground to really witness what is going on. That’s why we came here. But the truth is more than 80% of the world lives like this. I really feel as though I won some sort of genetic lottery by being born where I was. My eyes have certainly been opened.

Reflecting upon experiences is vital. This includes listening, which Romero did so very well. But reflection is not enough. We must act. Tom McGrath of Loyola Press who is down here as well reminded us of that prayer we say at every Mass as part of the Penitential Rite: “…in what I have done and in what I have failed to do.” This hit me hard. I’ve recited this prayer a million times and never really gave it much thought until now. I have failed to do a lot.

But, yes, I struggle with what is to come. How exactly am I going to start “acting?” Mark Ravizza noted that the Salvadorans have an expression: We make the road by walking. I found this so profound. There is no obvious road to take. Lord knows I am really good at over-thinking things. I don’t know what the end of the road looks like, but I just need to start walking. Eight days ago I said I really didn’t know what the point of all this was. Well, I think I just might have figured it out.

I want to thank, once again, President Cornacchia, Fr. Mike Braden, my wife Lauren, and my family for their support and prayers throughout this experience that I will never forget. And to those who read these reflections, thank you, too. I am more than happy to talk about my experience at any time.

I want to leave you with a prayer that John Sebastian of Loyola University New Orleans chose for this evening’s blessing before our final dinner together. Though it is not clear who the author is, it has been attributed to Archbishop Oscar Romero. I believe it sums up perfectly the past eight days.

A Future Not Our Own

It helps now and then to step back and take a long view.
The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of
saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession
brings perfection, no pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives include everything.

This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one
day will grow. We water the seeds already planted
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces effects
far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of
liberation in realizing this.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning,
a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's
grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the
difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not
messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.

Thurs 02/11/2010 9:41 PM

Women separating Coffee beans at a free trade, organic coffee cooperative in El Salvador.

Today reminded me of the possibilities that exist for El Salvador.

In the morning, we visited the U.S. Embassy and met with two officials who explained America's current role in El Salvador. They had to walk a fine line in answering our questions but overall they did a good job of highlighting the fact that America is working closely with the Salvadoran government to curb the rampant corruption that exists in the country, especially within the  government itself. Financial incentives (including $463 million to build a major road in northern El Salvador) are tied to benchmarks that indicate the corruption is diminishing. The U.S.A. is also working with Salvadoran officials to make prisons effective, rather than fraternities where gang activity
is planned and orders are given to those outside of prison walls. Wire-tapping is one initiative the State Department is working to implement -- cell phones are smuggled into jails and are used to coordinate violent activity every day.

In the afternoon we visited a free trade, organic coffee cooperative. We toured the facilities and were treated to some of the best coffee I have ever tasted. The cooperative employs more than 400 people who work extremely hard. With the help of NGOs, the coop has created ties to American and European markets, where a cup will sell for $5 or more. Five dollars is also the day's wage for the women who separate the good beans from the bad (see photo). It's astonishing that those who do the most work within the production cycle get paid the least. Pickers, those who pick the beans from trees in scorching heat every day, make $1 for every 25 pounds that are picked. On a good day, a picker can make $15-$20, though it is only a seasonal job. This is not a unique phenomenon to El Salvador. This same issue exists around the world. I guess I always knew this; I just hadn't given it a lot of thought. Nevertheless, it is pleasing to know that, like the massacre survivors I discussed yesterday, there are Salvadorans who are working tirelessly to reach a bright, new day for themselves and their families.

Tomorrow marks our last day together before we set off on Saturday morning. My head and heart are both still swirling. I continue to
struggle with what to make of all of this. I've never really been a power-to-the-people, rally-attending, letter-writing kind of guy --
and I probably never will be. And while I am in solidarity with the Salvadoran people, I cannot help but to think of the injustice that
exists in Jersey City and Cleveland (my hometown) and in so many other places across the United States. Where and on what do I focus?

The Jesuits tell us to be agitated in the face of injustice. I have passed that test. How I incorporate all this into my work at home and
at Saint Peter's is a test I've yet to take.

WED 02/10/2010 10:47 PM

ICP Participants listen to the testimony of a survivor of the 1983 massacre.

Today was a day about resiliency.

We traveled outside of San Salvador to a rural town called Suchitoto. From there, we boarded motor boats to travel to Copapayo Viejo, the site of a 1983 massacre. Determined to silence the residents who organized themselves to protest repeated injustice in the region, the Salvadoran government essentially wiped out the entire village community. Planes dropped bombs. Soldiers raped and pillaged. Hundreds died. Hearing the gruesome details of the events from a survivor of the massacre was, for me, mind-boggling. I could not believe that I was standing so close to someone that had witnessed so much terror. He was 10 years old at the time.

The survivors, and those who managed to flee, united and were resilient in their desire to form their own just society. They formed a community nearby named Sitio Cenicero, and with the help of the Sisters of Charity and the Red Cross, have built a new life for themselves. School now continues until the 9th grade (it had been 3rd grade). Education, health and other civic affairs groups have been created. A common theme seems to be emerging in El Salvador: Despite the scandalous brutality, Salvadorans are a strong people full of faith and joy. It's inspiring really.  We also met with a man who works for an organization committed to reducing gang violence. Though his mission is huge and the odds are stacked against him, and others who do the same, his sense of determination and hope was crystal clear. It's terrific to know that there are people out there willing to devote themselves to a cause that most others would deem futile.

Two more days await us. I look forward to learning even more (tomorrow we visit the U.S. Embassy). That said, I am beginning to really itch to return home and hug my family. I always knew that I was blessed, but I had to travel to Central America to realize just how much.

TUES 02/09/2010 10:28 PM

My head hurts.

Today was a day of contradictions. Much of what follows is presented with thanks to my Ignatian Colleagues. I surely hadn't thought of all this; but together, we've come up with quite a list.

First, we met with a representative of the Salvadoran Association for Private Enterprise (ANEP is the Spanish language acronym). This group works on behalf of the private businesses in the country, 18,000 of which are classified as small businesses; 2,000 that are medium to large. Investing in education, building schools and getting children involved in activities that would dissuade gang entry are important initiatives for ANEP. Nevertheless, the gentlemen with whom we spoke admitted that El Salvador is progressing much like a student who is taking one class a semester. It might take 25 years or more for the country to graduate, but by that time a new world will be upon us and much of what was learned may no longer be viable.

We then met separately with congressmen from ARENA and FMLN. The social realities of these two gentlemen were diametrically opposed. The ARENA rep declined to admit that El Salvador was ever involved in a true civil war. Rather, he said the communist forces of Vietnam, Cuba, Russia and other Central American lands had infiltrated the land and the minds of some Salvadorans forcing the conflict. He even stated that the deaths of the UCA Jesuits and Archbishop Romero cannot be attributed to ARENA. Essentially, he said it was a mystery, despite facts to the contrary. Naturally, the FMLN rep saw it differently (as do most history books). As a result of widespread injustice and human rights violations a guerrilla movement formed to oppose the ARENA government in the early 1980s. No one thought the battle would last 12 years. FMLN was formed out of this guerilla movement after the signing of the Peace Accords in 1982. It is now their time to lead.

We discussed with the ARENA rep the fact that immunity was granted to all assassins after the signing of the Peace Accords. Countless Salvadorans want the legislature to overturn this law so that the murderers can be brought to justice and the families of the victims can learn the truth behind the deaths of their loved ones. ARENA believes that "forgiving and forgetting" is the best policy; if the law were overturned, both parties would lose political support which would destroy the country's political structure. There surely seems to be a major contradiction between what is truly important - political support (for individuals that have done a pretty lousy job of leading) vs. opening an honest dialogue to address the atrocities that have permanently wounded so many Salvadoran citizens. How a person can actually rationalize this stance is beyond me. It's pretty disgusting actually.

Another contradiction would almost be humorous if it were not so sad. ARENA's three principles are God, country and freedom ("Much like the U.S.A.," as the congressman said.). He was very proud that God is a part of the party. He was quick to point out that FMLN does not speak of God at all. Yet, ARENA, stated objectively, has ruled El Salvador (until recently) for more than 20 years in a most un-Godly manner.

How's this for contradiction? Romero rests in peace in the basement of the cathedral in San Salvador. However, the founder of Opus Dei is featured in a huge painting right next to the altar. This is but one example of the contradictions between faith and the church in this country (and dare I say perhaps even in the U.S.). Since Romero was killed, there has not been as large a voice for the people. The hierarchical Church has in some ways impeded the possibility for justice in El Salvador. And yet, the faith that the Salvadoran people hold dear is nothing short of inspiring.

And here is another notable contradiction: the U.S. government sent $1 million a day to El Salvador during the Civil War to support the ARENA regime. The assassins of the UCA Jesuits were trained by U.S. soldiers, some on U.S. soil. Yet, today the Salvadoran people are in solidarity with America, and vice versa. In many respects they want to one day be like us. This is because many Americans have come to El Salvador to bear witness to the Salvadoran story for justice and help communities rebuild. But also, it is true that approximately one-third of the Salvadoran population actually resides in the United States. Remittances from family members who send money back home account for a huge portion of El Salvador's GDP. So the country has a vested interest in the success of the United States. (El Salvador adopted the dollar in 2001 as its official currency.)

Driving down Salvadoran streets is one big contradiction in itself. Next to the mega-sized movie theater are what look like hundreds of tin-roofed shanties. Next door to the Pizza Hut are several fruit stands run by some of the poorest citizens. Next to the modern KIA dealership is a restaurant with broken windows and half of a roof.

But we have a choice; a contradiction of options so to speak. We can run, or we can stand. Before this trip it was very easy for me to run and avoid seeing the truth of the political situation here and the abject poverty. I could simply change the channel or not read the article. I could live within my little bubble. Now, I believe I will be more aware. I will take notice. And I will encourage friends, family and colleagues to take notice, too. Will this be enough, though? I struggle mightily with this. It is very easy to feel a sense of futility. Thankfully, ICP exists for exactly this reason. This is truly an incredibly strong network of smart, insightful individuals committed to the same ideology. Together, I really do believe we will stand together and make our institutions stronger.

MON 02/08/2010 9:47 PM

The garden of roses at the UCA, the site of several of the assassinations on Nov. 16, 1989.

Today was pretty heavy. We returned to the UCA and paid tribute to the six Jesuits, their housekeeper and her daughter who were martyred on November 16, 1989. We learned more details of the events that led up to the assassinations and toured a museum at the UCA that features the blood-stained, bullet-riddled clothes, personal effects, and other physical remembrances of that horrible day. Graphic post-assassination pictures were also made available to those who wished to view them. Though I was reluctant, I did look at them. I have no words to describe what I saw. The worst Hollywood horror movie could not replicate the repugnance that I felt.

We also met with a representative of the UCA's Institute for Human Rights, a very influential organization within El Salvador. The institute works with communities and citizens to positively effect change in the country. Despite the fact that many citizens believe the new government will somehow cure all the country's woes, the FMLN will not change El Salvador's fate unless the citizens themselves provide the impetus for change. Though a daunting task, there does seem to be hope that El Salvador can one day see a brighter day.

Now, I don't want anyone to think that this trip is one, big history lesson about some far away country that has very little to do with our day to day lives. All of us within the program are struggling with how to unpack everything that we are learning and find a constructive way to positively contribute to our institutions upon our return. I don't think too many of us have figured that out yet. I know I haven't. But one thing is clear, theology with a Jesuit charism centers around justice. So knowing the stories that have shaped today's thinking on that issue is important. But surely there is more to it than that.

Let's talk in concrete terms. Saint Peter's College is currently undergoing a core curriculum review. Our Jesuit values will surely influence how the curriculum will be amended. Vision 2015, our strategic plan, includes several crucial initiatives to infuse Ignatian traditions into our curriculum and student life. Though we might not like to use this terminology, Saint Peter's College is a product that requires selling. The Admission and Advancement teams do this everyday. Thus, really and truly knowing the product that we are selling is so, so, so, vital to our success. (I believe we do a pretty good job overall but I know we can do better.) And somehow we need to find a way to inculcate new employees and students - heck, all employees and students - with Ignatian heritage.

How do we do all this? Well, I believe we have some minds far brighter than mine working on this as we speak. But it is going to take a throng of us to come together and figure out the ways that work best for Saint Peter's. Communicating thoughtfully the steps we, as an institution, are taking will be critical. (Perhaps that is one way I personally can be of some help.)

If we believe that our Jesuit tradition is the distinguishing characteristic that makes Saint Peter's great (and I think most folks do), I have no doubt we'll succeed.

SUN 02/07/2010 10:56 PM

Interior of Iglesia El Rosario

Today was a day full of hope. All of us here see the bleakness that is El Salvador. This country's problems are so immense that it would be very easy to throw one's hands up and ask, "In a few years will this country even exist?" The issues at hand in El Salvador make it seem like all of the U.S.A.'s problems could easily be solved over a weekend and a couple beers.

Today we attended Mass at San Francisco de Asis parish in one of El Salvador's most dangerous neighborhoods. Though I did not understand a word, the experience was moving and uplifting. The church was packed, everyone sang and smiled, and during the sign of peace people moved throughout the entire church to shake hands and hug each other. It was unlike anything I had seen before.

After Mass, we met with representatives of the parish's Christian Base Community (CBC). They work with the community to deter gang violence, abolish violence against women (which has increased) and support the community's poorest members. Their strength, they say, is derived from the many martyrs within their community. They believe their deaths were not in vain; they provide inspiration. And as one young woman said, "El Salvador isn't going anywhere. We've survived for hundreds of years and will survive still." For all the horror that surrounds them, they are a joyous people.

After touring downtown San Salvador and visiting Oscar Romero's tomb, we had dinner with Salvadoran students from El Salvador's Romero scholarship program and U.S. students from Casa de la Solidaridad, a study abroad program run through Santa Clara University. These two groups of students meet regularly and form friendships, learning from one another. The Salvadoran students, who are studying dentistry, accounting, marketing, business administration, etc. hope to use the skills they acquire to strengthen their communities and assist their families economically. And the U.S. students clearly are learning more than what's in their textbooks. Their worldviews are being shaped in indelible ways.

Though the magnitude of the Salvadoran experience is clear, the work of the CBC and the Romero and Casa students provide plenty of hope that perhaps one day, peace and justice can actually take root in this land.

While visiting Universidad Centroamericana (UCA), we learned that more than half of the population is either un- or under-employed. Due to the dollarization in 2001 (El Salvador now uses U.S. currency) and the general economic recession, costs are going up on an elevator while wages are taking the stairs. There is absolutely no control of guns. (Armed soldiers patrol the streets here like meter maids to control the violence.) Despite a new political administration (FMLN) that campaigned on hope and change (sound familiar?), homicides are up, to almost 17 per day from 10. In fact, El Salvador is the most dangerous place on earth to live if you are aged 15-25. And we think we have problems.

We visited Divina Providencia Chapel, the beautiful chapel where Archbishop Romero was assassinated. We toured his home as well. It is interesting that there appears to be a faction of Salvadoran society that wants to remember and cherish Romero's mission to "stop the repression," as he famously yelled from the pulpit before a bullet took his life. Others want to forget the civil war and move forward. Similar to what we face in U.S. classrooms, many Salvadoran students, we were told, want to get a degree and find a job that pays some real money. They are not as much interested in social critique, developing a critical consciousness and searching for "truth."

And therein lies the challenge. The vision of Romero and the ideology of the Jesuits must be carried on. To do so, we need to find creative ways to infuse the Ignatian paradigm in all we do.

Fri 2/5/2010 6:44 PM

Greetings from El Salvador!

Over the course of the next eight days or so I will be posting my reflections about my experience in El Salvador as part of the Ignatian Colleagues Program (ICP). The program is made up of five integrated components designed to establish ongoing conversations through a menu of face-to-face cohort gatherings, online learning opportunities, an Ignatian retreat and an international immersion experience. I'm proud to represent Saint Peter's College in the inaugural Cohort 1. I am grateful to President Cornacchia for giving me this opportunity and to Mike Braden, S.J. for the many conversations in preparation for this trip. Most of all, I am thankful to my wife, Lauren, who I leave with two young children (and an impending snow storm!).

In the weeks leading up to this trip, countless people have asked me what I am going to do in El Salvador. What's it all about? Well...I'm not entirely sure just yet. This is not a community service experience. It's more of a holistic look at the entire Salvadoran struggle with injustice. We will visit Archbishop Oscar Romero's home and tomb; we will visit the Central American University (UCA) and bear witness to the place where six Jesuits and two women were assassinated on November 16, 1989; representatives from both ARENA and FMLN, the country's two politicial regimes, will address us; we will meet with the first feminist organization in El Salvador; and we will visit an organic coffee producing cooperative.

But in the end, what's the punchline? I guess I will have to let you know in 8 days. But here's my initial take. As a Jesuit institution, we must realize that we have a responsibility for being a force for faith and justice. As Fr. Charles Currie, S.J. said in a recent issue of Connections, "Can we teach, do research, and ignore immigrants and refugees, the homeless, those who are HIV-positive, the grave and complex problems of the economy, the growing gap between rich and poor, violence and ethnic hatred and pending environmental disasters, cities and families that can’t or don’t function?" As a college, our responsibility is to educate. But as a Jesuit college, our responsibility is to do even more.

I'm excited to be a part of this. I know my eyes will be opened more than they've ever been. I aim to bring my insights back to campus. But I also aim to bring these insights back to my children. They're a little young right now, but I want to ensure they have a world view that stretches beyond New Jersey's suburbs.

Well enough for now. Take care.