Urban Plunge

Mr. Horinger toured some Hoban students during their Spring Break on an urban plunge Monday to Wednesday.

The group lived on the streets, attending soup kitchens, riding the Metro, and visiting little tent villages around Akron.

The urban plunge culminated with a night out with Project HOPE.

So now I'll take the time to embarrass our friend Denny:

Elizabeth English: "Long time no see!"

Denny wonders if that's good or bad. Elizabeth says that she misses him already. Denny laughs. He goes on to talk about his girlfriend, Latricia, who everyone calls "Sis."

Mr. Milo makes a joke that Denny is dating is own sister.

In other news, never step on someone's mulched lawn when trying to assist with carrying babies into the house. Bad move. Trust us.

Life's a Bic...Write your own future.

Short staffed but Dirk came through with an amazing pot of delicious soup to help warm the souls on this frigid Spring night.

John Paradise (tonight's scribe): My go to guy is Tom...when it come to Bernard's. He's a friendly (?) and I enjoy talking to him. Tom has been living in a warehouse through the winter and was recently robbed of most of his belongings. He just got a new tent and is waiting until the weather warms up to move outside."

There's a lot of waiting out there, waiting for the foliage to fill in. Once there's greenery out there, our friends can start re-populating the wooded areas of Akron--land they were kicked off of last Fall. At the moment, however, the cold remains.

Also, check out the DIY benches in San Francisco.

"St. Bernard"

Nearing the end of our excursion, one of the prettiest Church's in the area is viewed as an ugly settling of poverty. At this point, my heart is running into unknown terrain joyously. Discrimination no more. We come into this situation with the same objective: To liven up the sad scene. To give people hope. To help our brothers and sisters alike. To let them vent and to make positive suggestions God would want us to give. To repair the attitude because these people walk around in despair. When everything gains closure it's God guiding us. The feeling burns within. I see the problem of these people roaming around mindlessly drunk with sorrow. Their filters have been skewed a bit, but we take on their burdens anyway. Everyone comprehends that we gain the most from our experience in a field. We attempt to cleanse the filth of society. We are going against the soundless hearts and empty beings who declare poverty as a cancer that can't be helped so why try? On Project Hope it's more of a mutual feeling of why not? It's this inescapable urge that our faith lures us into. This lure isn't into any dark pit, but the contrary. The opposing side being pure happiness. The underdogs of the fight encircle the challenge. As the pessimist would say, it's a lost cause while the underdogs continue to encircle the impossible task relentlessly. Our faith was showing the way to us which was kind of an overwhelming sentiment felt by myself, especially since this was my first Wednesday night expedition with Mr. Horinger and Mr. Milo. As the others were compelled to serve another evening, I was embracing the service, as well. It was the first time I didn't feel guilty for delaying my homework and bed time. If I felt guilty of anything it was not tagging along sooner on previous Wednesday night travel. It's an amazing being able to depart something with no regret, knowing your time and energy couldn't of been spent better.

Part 6 of Alan Schumacher's HOPE Chronicles.

"The Village of Furnace Street"

Never would of guessed that just a minute or two from Luigi's was an abandoned camp ground for the homeless. It was dichotomy versus prosperity less than a mile apart. It was also a struggle between your conscience and the left side of your chest. This isn't really a battle, though, more like a lesson. Another provoked realization. In the past while you were devouring Luigi's pizza and puzzling over your sweet dessert there were haggard people staking used tents on empty stomachs. Oh, and they longed for even a slice of bread as you munched ungratefully on an unlimited surplus. Lingering in a comfortable enough chair while under a steady roof, lack of appreciation is sinful. Blind no more. The puzzle's pieces now formed is a reality check at its finest.

Part 5 of Alan Schumacher's HOPE Chronicles.

"Happy Birthday"

I'm unsure of the exact location, but it was our fourth visit. Cele- bration. No, not time to celebrate the recently learned stories and personal realizations, but a birthday. Two. One male and one female. Can't come up with the names, but I could tell the man was on the verge of tears. It was the first time I've witnessed a grown man tear up in the presence of his birthday cake. It wasn't a child's cry that he or she didn't get the gift mom and dad forgot on Christmas, too. This man didn't need a gift in the special Superman wrapping paper. His wish list was completed with recognition from anyone, even along with a terribly pitched song. That's all both of them needed was someone to act like they cared. We spiced up the atmosphere with our original flavor; love. All this going on, with a capacity of 14, in an already crammer living room, a person with a vacant heart wouldn't and couldn't understand. We made the pair's night, perhaps week, and brightened a family's dim mood. An experience I wish to remember. Then there was the scene taking place in the front yard of our little shindig. More people happy to see us, maybe even happier than Ellen, A.K.A. Sparkplug, is to pass out bags. More people eager to see a pair of ears ready to listen, or to find their next meal and proceed to another search for vital resources. Misfortune can happen to anyone so goods shouldn't be taken for granted. The ignorance is baffling. Ultimately, we go in with a cause to help others and this assistance aids us more.

Part 4 of Alan Schumacher's HOPE Chronicles.

"It's In My Bag"

Third Stop. While passing out goods it was either this title as a response or something along the lines of, "Oh man, Colgate, alright!" Spoken with complex excitement. On a sunny evening, people, of the same creation, received gifts thankfully, but sorrow was still held on uneasy stances and blank faces. Reginal, Kenny, AJ, and Henry were among these citizens. Yes, AJ, with his intriguing tale of being born in New York, to being imprisoned in Florida, to arriving in Akron with God in his heart-no explanation in between- had touched me along with the others. They seemed hopeful and hopeless at the same time. It was another contradiction. No, I'm not talking about a Starburst where the contradiction is merely in the moment of taste. I'm talking of a more elaborate contradiction that has to do with life. This world being affected is more serious than a moment conflicted by minor confusion. Again, I was helping the poor and filth of society with a thank you supposed to be directed at me, right? No, because these people gave me much more.They informed me on this contradiction of being simultaneously hopeful and hopeless. This allows me to view my life more appropriately. My hope outweighed any hopelessness by a large margin. More passionately and appreciative I had a desire to attain goals with no resistance. For this, the filth of society, had allowed a simultaneous sensation to be exposed toward my benefit. For this, I was the thankful one.

Part 3 of Alan Schumacher's HOPE Chronicles.

"I Ain't Got No Lighter?"

For most it's no lighter, no problem. This theme was foreign to Perch. Yet, under a bridge or lurking in the trees you would have a different perspective, too. The theme, just like Mr. Lucas demonstrated by gripping his drivers wheel, was territorial. Or protective. In other words, these two men looked after their possessions more closely than most. They had a stronger appreciation for their belongings, minor or valuable. So, with that thought, when Mr. Horinger and Mr. Milo announced to Perch that he would be separated from his only lighter he gave a disgruntled face. Separation meant the possibility of the item being lost. This item happened to be his lighter. Why is that a big deal? Well, when you have next to nothing, add the inclination of appreciation with the fear of losing anything else, why wouldn't it be a big deal? You would have to produce a well pondered argument, but I would bet against the desire to prove it worthy of a lesser deal to a guy like Perch. Just witnessing his struggle causes a person to reflect. It causes you to realize how much you have, even if you think that amount is minimal. It causes you to be grateful for the love and support that comes along with being apart of Hoban. It inspires a thank you to guys like Perch and Mr. Lucas instead of vice versa. The feeling is difficult to describe, but very welcomed.

Part 2 of Alan Schumacher's HOPE Chronicles.

Mozart Needs A Walk

On our first adventure, we collide with Mr. Lucas and his two dogs; Mozart and Spanky. Man's friendliest two companions are the only company to tag along with Mr. Lucas on his interesting journey. I didn't say a word to him and I could feel the need for a more variety of visitors to interact with vibrating off of his skin. I just observed. The line is very thin. Understandably, with experience in divorce, Mr. Lucas seemed unable to really trust anyone at this time. Anything to get a dime though. Nonetheless everyone needs some affection which his desire didn't lack. What was undesirable were his daily routines which were elevated simply by my presence. All I had to do was stand there. Imagine having nothing but a broken down RV and two fury creatures to interact with. Imagine that being one of your present classmates down the road having nothing. It's a piercing feeling. A moment of miniature enlightenment. Mr. Lucas was guarding enough to stay in his RV, but gracefully took the snacks we prepared. This along with his desire to be shown affection created an unnecessary contradiction in this man's life. It was just so unfortunate. It warmed the insides. Compelled me to go out there and help others in his similar situation, as well. A call for help I didn't dial wanted to be answered.

Part 1 of Alan Schumacher's HOPE Chronicles.

Also, take some time to read about Jeffrey Heller's work helping refugees win asylum in the United States.

HOPEsters call for help

We're looking for donations of plastic grocery bags. Project HOPE places its sandwiches, chips and cookies into plastic bags as a means to best distribute the food to our friends. We use many each Wednesday night and would love some if you happen to have any at home. You may bring the bags in to Mr. Horinger or Mr. Milo.

In a complete contradiction, Project HOPE would ask that you adopt a habit of bringing your own bag to the market as a means of lessening the waste of plastic bags and the unfortunate environmental impact they have. Or perhaps you could decline a bag for small purchases that do not require plastic assistance.

Project HOPE would also like to adopt such a policy if you have any suggestions for us.

Allen!

It's 10:03pm, washing dishes, Mr. Horinger and Mr. Milo reflect...

Allen at St. Bernard's. It must be Spring. The Haven of Rest hibernation is over.

Drivin' backward down a muddied forest path. Jimmy sits solo on a cinder block, his back to us.

Bear tells Milo his joke is funny. Milo feels good but slightly disappointed since everyone heard it before.

Jim-Jam in great spirits, shows off his tattoos. Dirk does the same with a couple new gems.

Brownie speaks candlestick French. Luce speaks high-pitched Gingy.

This is bone-sawing fun.