Growing up in a Black Costa Rican immigrant household in Southern California, mi mamá and my pops always encouraged me to shoot for the stars. With my twin autistic brothers, Joshua and Jason, looking to me to set the example, I had no choice but to surrender to the crucible of rigorous academic formation in hopes that I would eventually emerge as a shiny new penny, giving a whole new meaning to my family name.
Eventually, I found myself blessed with the opportunity to matriculate at the Boston College Clough School of Theology and Ministry (CSTM). My life experiences up to this point had told me I had to be clean, pristine, and polished so that I could shine like the penny God created me to be, but my arrival to Boston taught me a different lesson. It taught me that God’s grace could be found all around me, and once I mustered the courage to forge a path beyond the horizon and into the unknown, I found God in the last place I would have thought to look, public transportation.
I chose to live in a predominately Dominican and Puerto Rican neighborhood in Lynn, Massachusetts, located approximately 15 minutes north of Logan International Airport along the North Shore. I sacrificed my physical comfort, waking up by 5:00 am every morning to make my 3-5 hour roundtrip to and from school. I relied on the Boston public transit system which locals simply refer to as the T.
Choosing to live into sacred fugitivity and the freedom of cultural expression amongst my fellow Black and Latin American folks, I journeyed on the buses and subways with my communities at my side. With each ride on the T, my once shiny penny picked up a new fingerprint. I encountered beautiful abuelas riding the T with such grace and pride you would have thought they were on their way to a gala in a four-horse chariot. I let my soul rest on Revere Beach as Reggaeton and Bachata filled the saltwater air. My penny kept getting soiled and scratched, but the cracks made room for a funky groove to fill my spirit. As my good friend Melvin Bray III once told me, “The funk ain’t the funk ‘til someone starts bobbing their head.” We was all locked into that same groove up and down the tracks.
Riding on the T created a space in my life to jam with the songs in the key of my life. These rhythms created a pillow for me to rest my weary head, and leaning back into God’s loving embrace, I was reminded of who I am and whose I am. During a 2017 Harvard Divinity School Convocation, Cornel West also urged us to listen to that same spirit saying, “Let us never overlook our musicians. They are not ornaments or decorative entities. They are constitutive of who we are as persons and community.” Therefore, my headbobbing and funky bounce on the T is not a spectacle for the entertainment of others but rather a prayerful dance that keeps me connected to myself and the communities I call home.
At St. Katharine Drexel Parish, this sentiment truly comes alive. St. Katharine Drexel Parish (SKD) is a Black Catholic Community located in the Grove Hall Neighborhood of Dorchester and has been my home parish throughout my studies at the CSTM. I am grateful to Eric Immel, S.J. who first introduced me to the SKD family during my Accepted Students visit to the CSTM. I am also grateful for my fellow pastoral musician and CSTM classmate, Lauren Warner, who has looked after me like an older sister. On Sundays, we use our instruments (bass and drums) to have theological conversations, creating a sonic canvas for our community to publicly paint the prayer of their hearts through embodied worship.
This dynamism permeates the entire community. Fr. Pratt welcomes us all with a bounce in his step as his praise takes the form of dancing and clapping. Our musical director, Uncle Meyer Chambers, sits at the helm of the historic Hammond B-3 organ, inviting us to plunge into the depths of God’s compassionate solidarity with God’s people. My church aunties and uncles: Miss Beth Chambers, Sr. Tess, Miss Georgia, Miss Damaris, Uncle Joe, Miss JoAnne, Miss Lorraine, Miss Jumaada, and Miss Carolyn shelter me underneath their wings before its time for us to soar across the sky. We are all beautiful and shine with a radiance that only could have come from God. I am who I am today because of my beloved St. Katharine Drexel community.
As I prepare to put out into the deep of post-graduate life, I continue to anchor myself in the sound of God’s angelic voice speaking through the lives of those I’ve been fortunate enough to encounter all over Boston. I’ve learned to venture out into the unknown to encounter God’s grace through the sacramentality of daily life. To this day, God continues to expand my rhythmic vocabulary by inviting me to jam with the strangers that cross my path along the way. As the Catholic Church continues to undergo a synodal process, I invite you to journey with me along the same path so that we might bear witness to the Holy Spirit who helps us to shine as children of God.