Parts

This season is 3 parts

1 part closing of an old season

1 part new season

1 part colliding of the first 2

Parts of it don't fit right

Like an old pair of your favorite shorts you pulled out of the closet in your parents house

Doesn't mean you love them less or they changed

You did

And that's okay

At least I'm trying to tell myself it is

Parts of it make me feel more alive than I ever have

Like a gust of wind just swooshed underneath dusty sails for the first time in years

Like no smile could be large enough

The ebbs and flows have parts of familiarity and foreignness simultaneously

I can tell you this though

When a boy I've known a lot of years asked how long I was going to be here & I said 

"I'm home now, that's all I know" 

I meant it

Not as if other places haven't been home

They have been some of the best homes I've ever known, and I miss them dearly

I love cities, the stories they tell, the adventures they hold

But they aren't home without my people

And right now

I'm home

Sorting out the parts that make sense to me

and the parts that still feel a little rusty

The part that will always make most sense

Our boys

This neighborhood

For such a time as this

Civil Rights & Late Nights

This is my attempt to tell the world... or my 7 followers on here, about how listening to God is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but also the greatest thing, every single time.

When my plan, my comfort-ability, my fears, are all silenced by the One who knows best.

I was excited, I was anxious... I was taking deep breaths to see how this would make or break me. I really wanted to dare God to prove He was right in this... but I know better than to do that these days. 

Side note: If you didn't already know I am THAT parent who shows pictures of her kids at all the get together's and tells endless stories she thinks are hilarious that no one else understands out of context but keeps telling them anyway. Only thing is, I'm not even a parent so....

On Friday night it was when the "original" four requested I come into their hotel room and just chill. Their cracks at each other, their reminiscing of when they were younger, and their pure giggles gave me peace. 

On Saturday night I sat in Granny & Granddaddy's living room surrounded by kids I love so dearly, friends & family that have poured into me over the years. Stories were shared about how cruel white people had been to my own adopted family in Tennessee. The kids went from goofy to quiet real quick when Granddaddy told a story about when their Mr. Marcus had a cross burning in his front yard in a neighborhood not far from where I went to college in South Knoxville. 

It hit us all in different ways. 

We were coming off of 3 days in Alabama and Georgia for a Civil Rights Tour. Some may call us crazy for loading up a van full of teenagers and taking them to places like the Equal Justice Initiative, 16th Street Baptist Church, The Center for Civil and Human Rights, Edmund Pettus Bridge, and other major memorials or museums. We ventured through Nashville, Montgomery, Selma, Birmingham, Atlanta, and Knoxville. This is what we do. We love these kids just enough, and are just crazy enough to not only want them to grow to be leaders in their communities, but actually make moves for them to grow and stretch and experience life beyond their street corner, so they can do just that.

We went through a lunch counter simulation that is hard to explain if you haven't done it yourself or if you are unaware of what that experience was like for so many. Moments later I found myself watching a film on the Freedom Riders surrounded by my black and brown boys. I watched them wince and shake their heads at how people were treated and how they knew me, their very white Ms. Chloe, even being in that room with them was a big deal. 

The tears just started to flow. 

The history is heavy yes, but the present...? 

I find myself holding my breath and praying constantly that more hashtags, more bodies, more crying mothers would not find their way to my phone, desk, or heart anymore.

I want the present to matter and influence and change how their future will look. 

That is my why I guess.

And that is how I can be confident I am exactly where I need to be in this space of time.

Because it could be anywhere, just as long as it is somewhere, and it is bringing purpose and passion and prayer to the forefront. 

They hugged me and I just remember telling them over and over how I loved them.

"We know. We love you too." 

Our last night we slept in a building I know very well. It was filled with kids, just not the kids I was used to being there. And somehow, amidst the slowness I felt, a little off center, J's request to tuck them all in sealed the deal on what I already knew... what He has always known. 

There is a place on my instagram that says, "I love people, cities, and trap beats." I hope people can tell from how I live my life that loving God is a given... I also hope that they can see this choice was hard, but each an every breath I take in this new chapter gets a little easier. 

Here's to the continued fight for Civil Rights & late nights with the kids that feel like family.

Happiness vs. Joy

If you would have asked me a few days ago how I was holding up in my new job... I would have described it in a way that would have sounded like I was not happy. 

I am here to say there is a difference in being happy and having joy.       

Do you know the difference?

I sure hope so, because it made a world of difference in my life when I learned those were two very different feelings or states of being. 

Hands down I will choose having joy over being happy ever time.

There are parts of my spirit that will never fully understand how to function in a cubicle or a building lit with florescence. But this is what I signed up for. What goes on in those spaces matters. It is important. And I am here to learn. Not all parts of this life are happy, so why should this? 

As long as I have my joy, I'm doing alright.

So to make sure the joy doesn't ever leave... I knocked on some doors.

Thursday night I spent almost 3 hours at the Peterson boys house. 

What started out as a discipline session ended up being the longest catch up for Ms. Chloe and her boys. They are surely the reason I'll go grey early... but also a source of my joy.

Ty still knows his place in my life will always be the one to remind me of my wrongs, 

and for that I am grateful.

Friday I went to my brothers house. 

Not by blood. But by choice. 

I was just going to give him some forms for a trip we are going on with the High Schoolers and ended up pulling weeds in our sweet friends yard for a few hours. 

I told him the story about when I was younger and how my dad used to tell me, "if you ever get lost, just look for Big Blue... and you'll always find your way back home." Which was silly to me back then because I didn't live anywhere near Big Blue... but now, I feel very strongly about it being my North Star. 

We talked about moving to big cities, family, school, mistakes we've made that caused us to get real scared. All he wants to do is the right thing. His observations of the world and "if we're being honest" confessions were enough to rip my soul out and fill it up all over again. 

Saturday I did my very best to hide from the rest of the world.

Needing so badly to be by myself. While simultaneously craving people. 

This is the rip tide within me.  

This is what it feels like to be lost in your own city.

Happiness comes and goes.

It's joy you gotta fight for.

Manicured Lawns & The First Day

I have re-entered the world of manicured lawns, matching houses, and people who pull into their garages before they say hello to their neighbors.

For a lot of people this is the dream.

This is the home they work hard to get all their lives.

It is safe, quiet, on the edge of the city, but still close enough to count.

This is not where I will stay.

This is where millennials both find their comfort and discontent with the world.

We sip our coffee prepared in our parents homes wondering how the hell anyone could have voted for that man, and plan our next rally to support some cause we seem appropriate to tweet about that day.

A lot of us ended up here post grad.

So many of my friends are writing a narrative that tells them it's okay we are here. 

"We didn't fail because we came back to a childhood home." 

"We didn't fail because our current form of employment seems vastly different

from what our student loans paid for."

What if I did get the dream job? 

What if I didn't marry in college?

What if I want to live in the neighborhood that sounds less like birds chipping and lawns being kept up and more like sirens and basses booming?

Should I feel bad for working 40+ hours a week as an urban youth worker like I always planned? 

I don't think my friends are failing.

I don't know why I am so blessed.

There are hard days and better days ahead.

My first day at The Lexington Leadership Foundation has come and gone.

It's really cool it fell on my little brothers 5th grade graduation because they share a career they want to be when they are older and I was just a few years older than him when I wrote mine down and told the world everyday after that what I wanted to be. 

"I want to be Mr. Marcus."

Eight years later, something even cooler happened.

I got to be Ms. Chloe.

If you know me or any part of this adventure I've been on for twenty-two years, you know how big of a deal that is, and why the tears come while writing that.

My team had already cleared a desk near all the windows.

Bought succulents and a big calendar.

Colored pens and bright folders.

They know me so well.

I learned a long time ago that there are a lot of things that won't go my way,

and a lot of things that will.

I've learned recently it's okay either way.

So for now, I'll live in the neighborhood with the matching houses, 

with the nice lawns and quiet neighbors.

Not considering it a fail.

But seeing what there is to learn from this community too.

San Diego Thoughts

"Have you left room to deal with all the things that have been happening or will be happening very soon?"

"Where are the margins?"

"Chloe, you need to cry... when are you going to do it?"

"This is your season of rest, you need to be ready."

No matter how it's said... the same message has been given to me over the last week or so.
Longer if you consider all of senior year being spent in a counseling office where simliar things were always mentioned.

This is the dark side of being Chloe Martin.

This is the part of me who didn't choose to get out of bed many days this last year.
The part that kept watching everyone I love hit a glass wall, I built years ago, and seemed to replace the hammer with windex.
This is the part of me that says, "I'll just think about that tomorrow" like Scarlet O'Hara from Gone With the Wind.
Pushing. Shoving. Compressing. Not initing her emotions to the table... or car, sidewalk, church pew, desk, bed, conversation with friends, shower
Nowwhere.

I am currently in a season of transition. Lots of great water and spreading of seeds has been the last couple of years.
Tilling the land here and there, prepping for a harvest that I honestly don't know if I will ever see. And that's okay.
From season to seaon the need to trim back vines, fertilize, rest the soil, all varries.

For a long time I had a lot of help with this process.
There were even some barriers set up to insure I would be on the right track.
And there will still be guidance, leadership, love, and a path laid before me, don't get me wrong.
It's just now, the barriers are being lifted in a way.
Time to see how my roots hold againt the weather.

For a long time people that loved me would joke about how I would put on my running shoes when things started to happen I did not vibe well with.
I want to challenge this a bit and say that I have always known my capacity for things.
I knew when it was time I needed to rest, to step away, when the water was too heavy for my chest.

The salt water and sunshine in San Diego.
The sidewalks and familiar neighborhoods in Lexington.
The city lights and mountians in Knoxville.
And everywhere else I journey in between those cities the last 4 years.

Refuge. Reconcilition. Redemption. Restoration.

The running shoes are there, and I do want to use them some days... but I think after the last 4 years I have realized there is more value in admitting the need
for rest and refueling and dealing with things head on, rather than run in the complete opposite direction!

                                                                         -

To answer the questions that keep circiling me,
I cried long and hard in my bed on the west coast last night.
A combination of the drastic changes coming my way, something that was said to me by a mentor that meant the world, and realizing that my heart isn't coming back after
I gave it away last summer.

Deep breath. It was much needed.
That plus a salt water sunset was the exat healing I came here for.
Not running away from respobsibilities or change or anyone in paticualr.
Just the exat remedy my soul needed.

I hugged my people.
Drank all the coffee.
Laughed, sang, napped.
Ate my favorite foods.
Laid on the beach.
Served with Urban Missions.
Help a friend move in.
Heard new stories and relived old ones.
Saw the streets packed with even people as small rivers flowed through their tents.
Went to the desert.
Prayed. Prayed some more.
And got prayed for.

Now, I am ready to get on that plane tomorrow and face this new chapter head on.

Monday Afternoon on the West Coast

It's Monday afternoon & I am sipping on a White Espresso Mocha outside on Park Blvd in San Diego.

There are no school assignments to be working on.
No job to be rushing off to.
No alarms set.

My degree for Intercultural Studies with a concentration in Urban Studies will be delivered in the mail in the next week or so.
Pretty anti climactic if you ask me.

After four years of blood, sweat, and tears.
Days spent in the library (or not at the library)
The less than glamorous grades & the grades I was more than shocked to pull off.
None of it matters now.
And I knew this day would come... I think I knew it a lot more than my classmates if I'm being honest.
I was never a great student, so I didn't hold it against myself that I didn't have cords when I crossed the stage.
That is cool for some people, just not me.
My cords looked like handshakes with drug dealers, finally understanding what Jesus meant when he said love your enemy, and growing up enough to know that the first boy doesn't have to be your boy.

I am an adventurer.
I am an experiential learner.
I need to walk through the fire & rain myself, not just read about it or hear about it in a lecture.

I won't always be on Park Blvd. sipping on a White Espresso Mocha with no schedule or place to be any particular time.

Very soon I will be in meetings.
I will essentially be in the real world classroom... the one I have loved, lost, and learned the most in thus far.
I will be the teacher and the student at the same time.
The to do list will look more like paying off loans, shaking important peoples hands, and placing everything a the feet of Jesus... and some grant writers.

A sweet San Diego friend of mine told me something I will hold onto for a long time in this line of work, and life in general. "If young people like you don't make mistakes, they aren't doing anything at all. So you better make mistakes."

I don't want to be like the Scribe who very flippantly told Jesus he would follow him no matter what, without thinking of what that truly meant.

But I do want to follow Him, no matter what. And I want to be at a place in my life where, even if that means I make a mistake, people reject me, or I feel alone some days on this journey, I know it is well worth it.

Now to soak up some West Coast Sunshine!

Everyone Keeps Asking Me How I Feel...

Everyone keeps asking me how I feel...

The words haven't had enough time to process.
The dust has hardly settled.
I am still trying to make it through the last week of Emerald, while also packing for my trip to San Diego & to move back to Lexington.
There isn't a whole lot of room to think about how I feel... and honestly I don't want to.

If you don't know this about me already, I am actually the most emotional human to walk the earth.
Crying at the drop of a hat isn't out of the ordinary for me,
but when change, transition, goodbyes, moving, growing up, new seasons begin, old seasons end, start to add up, I will quickly tap into my overflowing amount of emotions and silence them for another day.
Pushing through everyday on the calendar in order to reach a point I can turn them back on, let it flow, and then allow myself to function like a normal human again.
Cause when I tell you I would not be able to do anything else if I actually acknowledged everything happening around me... believe me.

I've been blessed with family all over the place. I could hop on a plane going in any direction, and more than likely land somewhere, a least close, to where I have "family." I spent all weekend with family from California, Florida, Tennessee, Ohio, Kentucky, etc. My heart was exploding watching all the siblings interact, the mentors, the friends. I didn't deserve all of them showing up and cheering me on all these years, but they do, and I am so grateful.

The next few days are my last at Emerald Youth Foundation.
My exit interview is happening today.
I won't be holding back tears then.

We had our end of the year party with the high schoolers last night and there wasn't a dull moment... until the building got really quiet and I had no idea where the kids went (I'm a great AC y'all) I looked all over and didn't see them in the yard, then I realized they had gotten on the van. A side note about the EA fam is that we love van rides together. Doesn't matter where we are going, those are some of our favorite times together. Without me telling them we were leaving, they just all decided to be on the van. Laughing, roasting, just being together. It was honestly one of the most simple, but touching things to me because it just shows how much they love being around each other. It took me almost 2 hours to take 12 kids home because I had to give hugs to everyone. Momma's, brothers, sisters, goddaughters, cousins, my kids... this was one of the times I was thankful for keeping the emotions at bay... or I would have never gotten them all home.

Do good things...
See you later's...
I'm real proud of you...

Nothing I could have said seemed good enough at a time like this.

But the "I love you's" coming from each of them, had all the power in the world.

Everyone keeps asking me how I feel...

When the squad shows up to your grad party

College Street family photo

I feel like I'm losing part of my heart, and gaining a part I lost a long time ago.

I feel like I just learned my spot in Neverland was given to someone else.

I feel like I finally reached the top of the mountain I've been climbing for over half my life and the view is everything I could have dreamed of and more... 

but now I have to find the next mountain.

I feel excited and terrified all at the same time.

I feel like Gods favorite.