The Why.

At this point, I’ve provided information on Bike & Build as an organization, the Affordable Housing Crisis, and the route which we will be taking to pedal ourselves from coast to coast.  For some, this information is plenty.  Some others might be more interested in where this seemingly random passion for biking and affordable housing came from. For some reason I've always found people associating me with music and rowing and whatever else I've done on campus, and somehow I've been horrible about displaying my love for disaster relief and biking in any public way.  

When I learned about the possibility of serving as a leader on this trip, I wrote several essay responses in order to apply for this position.  Following is an abbreviated copy of some of my answers to hopefully, explain these “random” passions to those of you wondering if you ever actually knew me at all. (Hint: You totally know me, I’m just less of an open book than I seem).

Biking:
My bike was my main form of transportation for most of my life and was the place where I felt safest in high school.  I decided during my sophomore year of high school that I would bike across the country – I just needed to find another person who wanted to come, and I needed to find a way to turn this into an opportunity to serve.  When I saw an old classmate write about her experience with Bike & Build, I knew I had found something that encompassed all of my values and desires.  I had to do this. 

Building:
Serving others and viewing everyone as neighbors rather than strangers has always been a passion of mine that I haven’t fully understood.  A sense of duty has always just pulled me to help.  Throughout junior high and high school I spent at least a week every summer on service trips in Milwaukee, St. Louis, Atlanta, New Orleans and Honduras.  On my eighteenth birthday, suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere my city, Nashville, was underwater.  Eight of my teachers, countless friends, and my grandmother all lost their homes to flood waters over eight feet high.  School was cancelled for a week and I spent every moment of that week working to gut these houses and accommodate my displaced neighbors.  A year later, tornadoes ripped through the city that I had just begun to call home, Birmingham.  I skipped classes for a week to work dig out the remains of homes before rebuilding, ended up getting shingles from working too hard, and almost had to withdraw from some of my courses in order to continue working with the community that I had grown to love so much.  I didn’t know these people before the storms and I had nothing to gain from them, but I felt the need to help in any and every way I could. 

My senior year of high school I decided to study non-profit business so that I could work in disaster relief.  After the Nashville floods shook my world so greatly, and Hurricane Katrina had moved several of my new classmates to Nashville, I had a great passion for providing for those who had been displaced.  In college, this duty to serve displaced individuals and families changed.  I became even more aware that natural disasters are not the only things that displace people from their homes.  There are all sorts of causes to poverty and homelessness.  The focus on affordable housing is the first step toward providing a better life for those who have been displaced.  Affordable housing is building block on which health, education, and growth are fostered.  If a homeless person does not have an address to put on their job applications or their child’s school enrollment, there is no way to move forward.  If a family has to make desperate choices in order to pay their rent, foregoing necessary food or medical needs, there is no way to move forward. 

While my past experience has been in disaster relief efforts, I hope to devote more of my time and efforts toward the affordable housing cause for these reasons.  The thought that thousands of my neighbors are prevented from fully living, working, receiving education, and having access to their medical needs lights the same fire in me that the Nashville floods, Birmingham tornadoes, and Hurricane Katrina lit. 

Not only do I want to work toward the long-term solution to this issue, but I want to be a part of making others more aware that this problem is more prevalent than they can see.  Last summer, I was privileged enough to chaperone the Junior High School service learning trip to SIFAT, or Servants In Faith And Technology in Lineville, AL.  At SIFAT we spent 16 hours in an urban slum simulation, where I watched my seventh grade girls get "sold into prostitution" (simulation) to feed their families, I watched one of the father chaperones react to seeing his daughter as one of these girls, and I watched what desperate people do when they don't have a guaranteed place to sleep or a guaranteed source of food and water.  It seemed cruel that 1 in 7 people on this earth live like this.  And I was angry.  Later in the week I stayed up well into the morning trying to force these eighth grade girls to go to bed. Screaming and laughing and tormenting my sleep-deprived soul, these girls were determined to wear themselves out before the real work even began.  Even after seeing how exhausting life in other cultures can be, even after learning about how much work many people have to put into just one meal or just one cup of pasteurized water, these girls would not tire.  It seemed cruel that we could so easily forget our neighbors we had just started to understand that week.  And I was angry and frustrated.  When we returned to Birmingham, I wanted all of my friends and family to understand this issue and to find a solution.  I feel the same about the issue with affordable housing.  I want to, as cheesy as it sounds, be a part of raising awareness and lighting the fire in more people to work toward a sustainable solution and this summer is my first step toward a lifetime commitment to those affected by this crisis.
           

2.5 Stories: a Hill, a Family, and a Rainy Morn in GA/SC

Despite the fact that the trip hasn't actually started yet, I've already figured out some pretty key items about this whole biking thing.  I say that as if biking is completely new to me - it isn't, but taking it somewhat seriously is.  Having a kind of nicer bike that I actually have to take care of is also fairly new to me.  And the following experiences from the past week, are also completely new to me, and worthy of noting in a public place ... or just in a place where I can look back and remember how novel these ideas once were.

Story One
We'll start with the most recent and go in reverse order.  This week has proven to be one of the most stressful yet.  With two different regattas this weekend to plan, 2 major assignments, and a test that I still have no grasp of understanding on - I have completely accepted that this is the worst week ever.  When I got frustrated with studying today, I went for what was supposed to be a quick ride through some new neighborhoods and proceeded to find myself at the bottom of the steepest, windiest hill that has ever existed.  I had carefully planned my exploration, however one of the roads on the map I had planned from no longer allows anyone to cross an extremely busy highway in a safe way.  So after riding down this awesome hill thinking, "I have found my new favorite road in all of Alabama," I found myself riding uphill thinking "this week continues to prove itself as terrible."

When I got to the top of the hill, I decided to take a short break at a church parking lot with a stellar lookout.  Generally, after especially busy and stressful days I'll drive up to this same spot at night to look at all the tiny buildings - but today I got to the parking lot just in time to see the first and most beautiful part of sunset.  I remembered how much I actually really love this whole biking thing.  I remembered the whole reason behind this summer's experience.  For the first time in a week, I experienced a deep peace, knowing this is where I should be right now.  Then I panicked and realized that sunset means dark, so I hopped on my bike and rode downhill the rest of the way back to campus thinking nothing besides the line that has become my lesson of the week - There is no such thing as a bad day so long as I get to spend some, or most, of that day on this bike.

tiny vulcan statue in the distance from the church lookout

Story Two
This past week was our Spring Break, so naturally I brought my bike with me to the beach (where I got no beach sunburn, but a killer biking sunburn), and was planning on bringing it with me to Augusta for the second half of the week to ride a trail I had always looked forward to riding.  Unfortunately, when I reached my halfway point in Birmingham for work on Wednesday evening, I noticed that I had left a fairly important component of my bike in Gulf Shores.  Luckily, two friends were headed to a small town just outside of Atlanta from the Gulf Shores area and offered to bring it with them- only offsetting my trip by an hour.

Again, I was extremely anxious about all the travel time that was being added to my trip by my mistake of leaving things behind, but when I stopped by these friends' home, it was totally worth it to add the hour to my trip.  I had to opportunity to meet their family (for the second time, but the first time I didn't leave a great impression, so I was thankful for second chances), and they were kind enough to invite me in for a quick and delicious dinner before it hit the road again.  One of the things I've missed most during my time in college has been the opportunity to get to know the families of my friends.  In high school I had several friends who's parents felt like a second set of parents to me, and in college, unfortunately, families have become a mysterious idea that sometimes show up for special events.  Despite the fact that I loathe the word "community, sitting at the dinner table, taking in the history and background of these two college friends reminded me of how much importance I place on community; I've found that the people that have become more prominent members of my community have been people who have let me in enough to see where they've come from.  I'm excited to see how our team grows in community with each other even when we spend so much time doing so many exhausting things with each other.

Additionally, as I was making my way back out to my car to head on to Augusta, my friends' mom stopped me in the kitchen and asked what I might be nervous about this summer.  I told her about one of the things that I have been publicly anxious about approaching this summer - how I could continue to grow in my faith and not feel like I have to hide my background in the church from a much more-diverse-than-Samford group. Then, in a completely natural and not intimidating or weird way, the family stood in the kitchen and prayed for me, for my team, and for all that lies ahead.  While, normally, this would freak me out and seem over the top (just because I've grown up wanting to go into ministry, doesn't mean I pray with people in the kitchen whenever they come to my house), this was not a weird experience.  The same peace that I felt overlooking the city at sunset after the ridiculous hill incident this afternoon washed over me and reminded me of the awesome support system that I have entering this adventure - I mean, people that I hardly know are praying for me in their kitchen.

So basically, I'm feeling pretty #blessed (that's facetious, but I really am grateful) after this brief encounter with the Woods. (Oh shoot, did I name drop? I was trying to avoid that, but whatever).

This is supposed to show you how rainy it was...
and how cool this bike is.

Short Story Three
When I finally made it to Augusta, the weather was disgusting, and I had a blast riding along the Canal to downtown.  Last time I rode in the rain, I was dumb enough to get hypothermia - not the case this time.

 When I got downtown I remembered that South Carolina was just across the river, so I crossed my first state line just for the heck of it.  This has been my favorite training ride yet, despite the awful weather and the terrible road conditions, but hey, as long as I'm on that bike - it's a good day.



Too many words here, so let's close with some pictures:

Less than ideal dirt road.
(Not pictured: gravel, sticks, the gates of Hell)

Savannah Rapids