Catholic. Anarchist. Tattooed. Unapologetic.
"I love you," Praaz rasped as he ducked his shining bald head inside my car window and gently kissed me on my forehead. "Thank you," I meant it. It was the day after I had buckled under the pressure of having sustained 90 hour work weeks for nearly a year, the pressure so intense I …
Continue reading "Finding the Beloved Community"
She stumbled across the room, her hang-dog eyes swollen from heavy drinking the night before or, hell, that day for that matter. "Hey," she slurred, the liquor rolling off her in waves so pungent I could name the brand of whiskey she'd been drinking. I raised my eyebrows in a question. "You know, you're getting …
Continue reading "Burnout: The Catholic Worker’s Reality in 3 Microstories"
"What if I punched your right in your head?" Praaz asked as he swung his arm in a pulled upper cut to my jaw. "What the fuck do you think would happen? I'd fall down! What do you think I am, a damn prize fighter?" "Ahh, you know I'd never hurt you." He grinned toothlessly. …
It's become second nature to check the county Sheriff's department website whenever one of our guys goes missing long enough to ask each other if we've seen him. This might seem a bit bewildering for some, but in a city (let alone a country ) that criminalizes people who have the audacity to not have …
The sentiment is rarely articulated - by either the guests or the workers - but everyone who has stepped foot under the roof of that shelter understands what it means to be homeless. You don't matter. Your opinions, your struggles and most importantly, your life. None of it counts because you contribute nothing to the …
