"Why I Stayed"...or..."How I stopped being afraid of who I was, and started Loving who I am..."

Recently I have been asked by several people why I chose to stay in Houston after Mission Year ended...


I used to think that the answer to that question was simple...It's not


I think...the answer to that question is in three parts.
1. I fell in love with the city of Houston while I was in Mission Year. (something I am convinced is part of the effect Mission Year has on someone.)
2. I learned of something new and exciting that I could be a part of.
3. I established some amazing friendships, and also became established as an Artist. (the latter of which was something I had been striving to do for quite some time.)


When you hear me say that I fell in Love with Houston, you might think that it means I learned about a lot of cool places in town, I met some cool people, and I realized how beautiful of a place it is. These things are true, but more than anything when I say I fell in Love with Houston I really mean that I learned more about the suffering, pain, loss, and general decay of this city than any other place in my life. I learned these things from stories, books, and from living side by side with some of the most impoverished people here. In the process of learning the statistics, and figures about poverty, homelessness, broken homes, alcoholism, drug abuse, and the many other evils that plague this city day in and day out, I made a major mistake (which might also be the best thing I have ever done in my life). I put faces on every single one of those things...
I tell people that it became hard for me to sleep when I heard that the average age of a homeless person in America is 9 years old (due to domestic abuse forcing mothers and their children out of the home), I told people it became hard to sleep when I heard they can now track prison populations back to the 3rd grade( meaning that they can look at a class of 3rd graders and statistically determine which ones will end up in prison).I tell people it became hard to sleep when I found out that Houston is the #1 city in the nation for Human Trafficking. I can tell you now that all of these things became impossible to swallow when I met children who live on the street, when I taught third graders who went home to crack addicted parents, when I met men & women who sell themselves night after night, when I heard stories of girls getting kidnapped for the sex slave industry, when I drove past known brothels...I fell in Love last year but not with pretty buildings, cool coffee shops, or art museums, but with prostitutes, homeless men & women, and children who have every statistic in the book fighting against them...

And I couldn't leave them behind...


Toward the end of my year with Mission Year I was introduced to Josh & Aimee Wood who are part of the pastoral team for a church called Harbor Church. Josh & Aimee, when I met them, were starting a community in the Montrose neighborhood of Houston. The Woods' have lived in Montrose for a while, and in the past have used their house and garage apartments to serve as a half-way house for recovering addicts. "Love Works" is what they are calling their new adventure which is an experiment in living in community, serving children at risk in our neighborhood schools, and seeking after a lifestyle of love and service together as a community. When I met them I knew immediately that I wanted to be somehow involved with them, and their program. I moved in the day after Mission Year ended and have been living there since. I love living with Josh, Aimee, their three children, and Juli. Living in the house has been an adventure in and of itself, everyday is different and exciting. I have begun to Mentor two young boys at Gregory Lincoln Elementary School, and spend a good amount of my time (both while at work and other times) hanging out with the people who occupy the streets of Montrose at night. Being part of Love Works was not an easy decision but I feel that it was one of the best things I could do post-Mission Year here in Houston. I moved in with Love Works because I realized that if I went back to my old life I would quickly forget the things I learned in Mission Year, and I didn't want that. I wanted to move past my old life and strive to find my new path.

Part of that new path is my passion for the arts. For many years I have been painting and drawing as both a hobby and a passion...only recently have I become an acknowledged, and successful artist. I have sold a lot of my paintings, and a few of my drawings, also I have become plugged into several communities of artists here in Houston. On top of my success as an artist I have established several very good friendships a few of them being my former Mission Year teammates, and others that I got to know while working here in Houston last year. I look forward to seeing what lies ahead both in my friendships here in Houston, and my career as an artist.


All in all I stayed in Houston because I wanted to love what I do...and I do

Rudeness...and everthing that follows...

Coffee shops are interesting places...working at one is even more interesting.


When all is said and done, with the pompousness of boutique coffee out of the way, being a Barista is a two sided job. 1. bar-tending, & 2. People watching. (most likely this is why I love this job)

Fair-warning to all my friends in Houston, if you come into Taft Street Coffee you will most likely end up on this blog in some form....

I get a lot of odd people in the coffee shop in the mornings. As I stated in my previous blog there are a lot of different lifestyles, and economic classes that intermingle here. There is something to be said about a heart surgeon hanging out with a painter, a homeless man, and a transvestite...it's a beautiful thing and a common occurrence here at Taft.

One thing that is not common here at Taft street is rudeness...there have been very few times that I have had a "rude" customer, but it does happen and unfortunately the rude ones are often more memorable then the nice ones...
I love people, I find it harder to love people who are rude in general, I find it exponentially harder to love people who are rude to me.

Usually my days here consist of serving a lot of drip coffee, and the occasional latte. However today was a different story...I have had more "complicated" orders then any other day working here...I don't mind this, in fact I welcome it, because it makes me feel like a real barista. I get to make drinks people will enjoy and I get to show off my Latte art abilities...which are improving. Although I enjoy making Mocha's, Latte's, Americanos, and the many variations on all of the drinks here at our coffee shop, I am weary to do so, for fear that I will mess up.

Today while fixing a White chocolate non-fat mocha for a customer, she informed me that I had failed to use non-fat milk and had instead used whole milk (not true). I assured her that I had used non-fat milk and offered to make her another drink if she was not satisfied. She was not. I began to make the second drink, making sure she could see that I used non-fat milk, and she stood waiting with her arms crossed and a lot (like ridiculous amounts) of huffing and puffing. I completed her drink and set it down on the counter, she took a sip, and then spit it out...right on to the counter...she set the drink down, informed me again that I had not used non-fat milk, I assured her that I had, and she gave me one of those "you're a f@cking idiot and you don't know what your talking about" looks, and stomped out the door with all the gusto of a six year old throwing a tantrum. ( I have seen a few of these at the house and I feel it was comparable.)

I disposed of her drink and cleaned up my station, wondering the whole time if I had done a good job of not being rude to her in return for her rudeness. ( as far as I can recall I kept a smile on my face the whole time.Though the second time around I am sure I had a "b*tch please tell me this is wrong again" smile) This thought process began me thinking about other people that I have had poor experiences with both here at Taft and at other coffee shops I have worked in, and I have had many.

Working at Coffee shops has enlightened me in many parts of my life but it has confused me in one...I don't understand how people can be so rude and upset over a beverage...it just doesn't make any sense...I make a living off making these drinks and they aren't even that important to me...


If the women who I served happens upon this blog...Have a nice day!


Peace, Love, Happiness

Isaac

"The Experiment"...

Okay....it has been a while since I have blogged...I am very inconsistent in this but I believe I have found a way to stick with it...and that is to read my friend Cass Trumbo's blog. Cass is currently in Turkey teaching English, and apparently having adventure after adventure. I read his blog regularly and can't stop laughing for hours after. I often feel as if I am having these adventures with him. Therefore it encourages me to write more. So Cass if you are reading this thanks.


I have entered into a new era of my life that we will call "The Experiment"

As Mission Year ended I had decided to stay in Houston to try and figure out what living a life of service and simplicity looked like outside of the constructs of Mission Year.

I moved into a house to join a program that is starting up called "Love Works".
Love Works is a look at how living in community and working with At-risk children can affect the city. I live with six other people. Josh and Aimee Wood and their three children Shaun(6) Rebbecca(3) and Danny(1). My other housemates name is Juli Allen. Juli, Josh, Aimee, and the kids live in the house while I live in the garage apartment(just like the "Fonz", for all those reading who don't get that reference...you are a baby...and your childhood was void of all that is good) We live in community, which doesn't just mean that we live near each other, but rather that we share things, we eat meals together, we do chores, we celebrate life together, we laugh, we cry, we live as a family. We are dysfunctional at best but in the greatest ways. Together we are figuring out what it looks like to be a house that celebrates together, opening our home to our friends, neighbors, family, and strangers. We are working to better the lives of children-at-risk in our neighborhood by mentoring at a local school, and trying to find ways where our passions can be used to brighten others lives.

On top of living with my new family (as they will shall be called) I am working at Taft Street Coffee. Taft Street Coffee is a coffee shop that a Church (Ecclesia Houston) runs in our neighborhood. I am glad to be back in the coffee industry, as I enjoy the work very much...If it would pay the bills I think I would be a Barista for a long time (and I hope to be). I would like to eventually open my own shop that roasts their own coffee, but that dream is a long way off. Working at the Coffee shop brings some very interesting characters into my life. Because of staying in Houston and doing the work that I am doing some of the people that I see on a daily basis are homeless, transvestites, prostitutes, socially down-cast, vagrants. This mixture of people along with our more "normal" customers at Taft Street makes for some very interesting stories and adventures. I am enjoying my life here in Houston very much, but like any life there are bumps along the road. I hope that through this blog I can convey the stories that are molding me and also let you glimpse into the story that I am living day-to-day. I don't promise that my stories will be wholesome, enlightening, or even entertaining but I hope you will join me on this journey as I try to figure out what living in Love and Service looks like, and as I try to answer the age old question...Why am I here?...What is my purpose?...
This blog will "hopefully" be updated often with stories and adventures in our home, stories from the coffee shop, and my observations on events in my life. (it's OK it even sounds boring to me)

Thomas Merton once said that "Art enables us to find ourselves, and lose ourselves at the same time." Going along with this Idea I have a running slide show of my different paintings on top of this blog but I will also post paintings and sketches as they are produced.


Sometimes I ramble when speaking to people...I think this is just the electronic version of it. Luckily for you it's impossible for me to accidentally mumble on the internet...

You'll find my Blog easier to read if you imagine Morgan Freeman reading it to you...in fact while writing this I did an impression of Mr. Freeman reading it and I was rather impressed.


If you are still reading this, God Bless you...

Peace, Love, Happiness

Isaac

If Social Justice is Cool Consider Me Miles Davis!!

A year ago I began a process that would alter almost every aspect of my life...I took a leap of faith and joined a program called Mission Year. I joined Mission Year in hopes that I would learn how to better Love and Serve my fellow man. I knew that this would not be achieved over night...I knew it would be a process
The following is the affect of that process.


My interest in being an advocate for the voiceless began long before my journey with Mission Year.
It started with a small summer camp in southwest Missouri, where a punk 15 year old kid came face to face with the thing he feared the most, the truth. The ugly truth that people in our country are not treated equally. In short I came to the realization that we are all surrounded by Injustice.

Injustice is almost everywhere, in our actions as a society, in the small cultural euphemisms we use, in the unsaid thoughts that we think when we see someone who is "different". This is not the way things should be, but ever since the fall of man injustice has been one of the daily struggles that we as humans must face. In this entry I won't go into how the word Righteousness in the bible is exchangeable with justice. When the scriptures call us to be a righteous people it is saying that we need to be a just and fair people and that we need to bring God's redemptive Justice to the dark corners of our society where Injustice reigns supreme.

As most people are aware there are countless programs here in America and abroad that focus strictly on what are now considered "Social Justice Issues". These programs work at both the local, state, national, and international level to ensure the injustices throughout our world are being intentionally opposed. Programs like The mentoring Project, To Write Love on Her Arms, Living Water, Invisible Children, and so many others should work as an inspiration to us to continue our fight against injustice.

Fighting Injustice is not an easy task, for many of us we have socially ingrained hatred, and fear that we can not just ignore but rather that we must face and defeat. Like the "great commission" the call to fight injustice starts in a local format and expands wider and wider until the entire globe is consumed in beautiful redemptive justice.

So to be concise, because the time for more in-depth conversation about living a just lifestyle has yet to come, we must look at our surroundings and find the injustices in our community, identify them, and face them however that must be done.

There is more to come on this thought but in the time in-between take a look around your neighborhood/city and ask yourself what injustices plague you and your fellow man day in and day out, and what can you do about it?

This may be the most important question in your life... In this moment how can I better serve both God and my fellow man?

More to be said...

Peace, Love, Happiness
Isaac T Rice



Sites mentioned
www.twloha.com
www.water.cc
www.thementoringproject.org
www.invisiblechildren.com

The HPD and Me

A quick note to update you on a pressing matter....

One unavoidable thing about in working in the inner-city is interaction with police. Sometimes your interactions are positive and sometimes they are negative. Unfortunately two of my friends and I were the subject of some of the negative kind of interaction lately. One day my teammate David and I were waiting for the bus home after work, as we always do, when one of our co-workers in the after-school program pulled up to offer us a ride. We stood on the corner for a few minutes talking to our friend while he was in his car. As we stood there talking to him a policeman drove by (which is not an odd site as they constantly peruse the streets of the third-ward) my friend enacted his hazard lights and the policeman passed without trouble. We got into the car with our friend and were on our way home when we were abruptly pulled over. Immediately the police were at the windows of the car requesting that we step out of the vehicle with our hands visible. Upon stepping out of the car I was instantly hand-cuffed, my friend (who was driving) was instantly hand-cuffed and put in the back of the cruiser (trying not to be accusatory but of the three of us he was the only one who was not white and I therefore believe he was racially profiled) David was also cuffed and the police began their search in what they believed to be a narcotics bust. After some rather forceful searching of both the car and ourselves, and a few off collar inquiries as to why two white guys were in that particular part of the neighborhood and why we got into the car with “him” (the police continually referred to our friend with an air of distaste) we were free to go along with our friend, who continued to give us a ride home, with a pitiful apology that showed me that they (the police) were more sorry that they didn’t find any drugs. As I said sometimes interaction with the police cannot be avoided and that is just part of inner-city ministry. Luckily we were not detained (much to the chagrin of the police I’m sure) mainly because we had done nothing illegal and I am still free to spread love to the wonderful people God has placed in my path.

This experience has shown me many things...not all positive...but one thing that struck me was something David said. David was very upset (as he well should be) after this ordeal and David made the comment that he has more respect and awe for Jesus. Because after his ( Jesus') ordeal he was able to love the guards who had beat him and hung him to die, and David now understood how that would be difficult after David experienced a little bit from the "criminal" standpoint.

The Real Guts and Gory!!

So my biggest mistake in life is, quite easily, the fact that I have convinced myself at different times that being a Christian is easy.

I am not talking about "Christian" in the sense that I grew up in America, or that I went to church, or that I prayed a prayer one night, and again another night because I wasn't sure that I had done it right the first time.

What I am talking about is a lifestyle, not a "religion".

I am talking about something that few have ever been able to grasp half the full concept of ( and I am nowhere even close to grasping one-one hundredth of it).

I am talking about looking at others no matter how much evil they have done to you, and being able to love them.( And not just say you love them but be willing to lay your life down for them if you have to.)

The lifestyle I am referring to involves taking the hard, laborious, difficult, near-impossible, and self-depreciating road to situations that you could just not give a shit about.

I am talking about looking at the Gospels and doing the very things that Jesus did and not cutting corners; not doing it except when it makes you uncomfortable but rather doing it even more when you are uncomfortable.

Somewhere along the way I got it in my head that being a Christian meant that I would have a good job, great friends, a cute wife, nice kids, a white picket fence, and lots of suits and ties...however NONE of that has ANYTHING to do with following Jesus' example.

In fact those things are the exact opposite of what it means to drop everything and follow Jesus. In scripture Jesus sends out his disciples without a pack, without sandals, without a staff(see Luke 10)...he basically sends them out naked!!! Because, like throughout all of the history of man, God had to do something where no one could say that man had control. But rather that there would be no doubt that To God Alone Be The Glory!

When God calls out Gideon(see Judges 6-7) he cuts his numbers drastically and yet he delivers them into victory, they stood in the face of defeat and death but he brought them through. God watched as the apostle Paul was stoned outside of town, then watched as Paul got up, with his body broken and bleeding, and went right back into the very town that had just tried to kill him.(see Acts 14:19-20)

God did not create us to live comfortable and easy lives...he created us to need him. God made man with a hole in him ( and not the hypothetical hole that Jesus builds a cabin in to spend summers and Christmas with us) but a hole that would bring man to this point in his life where he is at the end of rope where he has nowhere to look but to God.

Why would a loving God do this??? Why would a God who says he will never leave us or forsake us do that??

Because...

God created us incomplete so that he could take us up in his hands and he could complete us! God made us with a future in mind, not a prosperous future, a future that would involve tears, yelling, and a feeling of emptiness so that he could look us in the eyes and help us realize that he has been there the whole time(remember that whole never leave you part?) and that He is ready and willing to fill that void and really he already has. (see Deuteronomy 31:6, Joshua 1:5, I Kings 8:57, I Chronicles 28:20, Psalm 37:28, Psalm 94:14, Hebrews 13:5 and so many more.)

SO....anyway to the point I am making with this...

There are many options out there and as the Proverbs tell us "In his heart every man chooses a path and the Lord determines his steps"(see Proverbs 16:9) , and God is with us on this journey because it is his journey not ours anyway.

All this to say, Take a look at your life. Find something that is comfortable, and drop it. Take it out of your life, and replace it with God. Many of us look at this past Lenten season as a time to do this ( and succeed in not drinking soda or coffee for about two weeks). But what I am talking about is not a piece of your life I am talking about a piece of your lifestyle. Maybe it is driving ( if you drive to somewhere that is only a mile away simply because it is easier.) or maybe it is passing up the homeless man on the street, or maybe it is ignoring your roommate because they annoy you.

I encourage you to look at what makes your life easier and instead of it making your life easier try to make it where it makes another persons life easier. I am pretty darn sure that is what Jesus meant for us to do, at least that is what I have begun to perceive...

For lack of a better orator

I recently wrote a story to portray an event that occurred to one of my friends this past week. The hope , as I send this off to the Free-Press papers here in Houston, is that this gets published and people will learn from it. I can only hope that you read, and enjoy the following story and that it will cause you to rethink how you perceive others...

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Life of a Houston Artist…

Don Collins awoke the morning of Tuesday February 9^th as he always does. He shook himself from his sleepy state and got ready for the day. After preparing for the day in his normal morning ritual he started out for his favorite coffee shop. Don does not drive; he walks. Don arrived at Taft St Coffee, the coffee shop that serves as both his studio and muse, and began to converse with his friends and those he does not know. Don draws people, places and things as they appear to him. After Don had finished at Taft St. he headed out for his next destination, a destination he would not reach.

As Don was crossing the road he heard the sound of an oncoming car so he instinctively sped up his pace to cross the street before becoming the next Houstonian to be the victim of a vehicular accident. After reaching the opposite curb Don heard the same car slam on its brakes and as he turned he saw that it was a Houston Police Department cruiser. By the time Don had turned around the passenger side officer was already out of the car walking toward him. Don is not a stranger to the H.P.D. and he knew what was coming. What followed was a horrible display of profiling by the HPD officers.

The first officer asked Don why he was walking so fast and requested to see his identification. The officer proceeded to ask Don who he was and tell him that he had never seen him in “their” neighborhood before. The next question was a forceful request to search Don’s backpack for his “crack pipe”; Don does not smoke crack. Upon searching his pack, much to the chagrin of Don’s personal rights, they discovered a bag of Crayola colored pencils (let me remind you Don is an Artist) and the officers proceeded to ask Don if he was a “pedophile”. The fact that the possession of colored pencils is enough for the police to think that someone is a pedophile is absurd, but also that they would ask such an audacious question to Don based off of the contents of his bag is overwhelmingly upsetting. Also during this absurd police investigation a mid-twenties African American man happened to be walking by and he received a harsh greeting and rude questioning as to his destination and reason for being where he was.

Upon searching through their records they found that Don had a few outstanding tickets and decided to take him in to process him through the system. The first holding cell that Don was placed in was a twenty-man cell that had about forty or fifty men in it. After several hours Don was moved to a smaller cell with three other men, one of whom was suffering from some mental ailments and had been in the cell for longer then he should have been in that situation. Don continually requested to talk with a superior officer (which is something that one of his cell-mates had for the previous two days) and was repeatedly told to talk to the next shift-captain, of which he saw about three come and go. Don finally went before a judge to deal with his delinquent tickets and copped a plea so that the frustrating madness would come to a more concise end. His tickets were written off after he spent some more time in his cell and was subsequently released.

As previously stated, Don is not a stranger to the HPD. In fact, they harass Don quite often. On top of being a wonderful artist, very friendly conversationalist and traveling philosopher, Don is also homeless. It is an upsetting fact that just because Don has the appearance of a homeless man and was walking faster than some police officer decided that he should have been, he was the subject of situational profiling and the harassment that comes with it. No man, whether he goes home to a multi-million dollar house or a pad made from cardboard and thrift-store blankets, should be subjected to such inhumane treatment. Don had not done anyone direct or even indirect harm in that situation and aside from his appearance and supposed unfamiliar presence in the neighborhood the officers had no feasible reason to “pull him over”.

This situation was upsetting to Don, but even more upsetting to those who care about him. Don is a kind and generous man to everyone both friend and stranger alike. Over the Christmas season Don sold cards based off of his paintings at Taft St Coffee and donated all the proceeds to the church that he has been attending so that they could dig fresh water wells over-seas. He is an accomplished artist, and a brilliant intellectual, nothing about him says dangerous, harmful, or even scary. This situation brings into questioning the methods by which our HPD officers are deciding who is and is not criminal. I can only hope that this situation will bring an inquiry into the police department and their practices of profiling.

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re-post this, do whatever it is you can to make sure this story is heard.

Thanks,

Ike

this is a picture of Don talking with my friend Andy