Tristan McCray
You ask why I'm here...
I say, “Where else should I be?”
The last four years of my life have been spent in Houghton College in upstate NY, earning a degree in Trumpet Performance. Now, as I think about what I want to do with my life (a question that, in my opinion, should never be asked), I’m not really sure. I happened by chance to the Mission Year website sometime last summer, and was immediately drawn to it. It came sort of as the culmination of becoming more and more “socially active” as they say; letting my heart be affected by the gross inequalities of the world and letting that discontent affect my actions. What particularly drew me to MY was their emphasis on missional living, not just evangelization. It is my hope that through this year I will learn what it means to live as a Christian, using Micah 6:8 as a guide.
I am a happy person, one who doesn’t like confrontation or olives of any sort. I enjoy most music, especially jazz, indie, bluegrass, folk, alt. rock and classic rock. I’m a big fan of any kind of live music. I live on a dairy farm. I like to cook (not particularly bake though). I especially like to grill. Let’s see….my ideal night is kicking back with friends and playing games or watching a movie. I can’t tell very good stories…I usually get sidetracked or just can’t remember them. I love incense. I’m more of a cat person, but I like outside dogs. My dream is to visit the moon.
Okay, that should get us acquainted a bit; I probably won’t talk much more about my characteristics, unless someone really wants to know. I’m really looking forward to MY and letting myself be changed while helping and loving others. This is why I can’t imagine being anywhere else next year. Thank you in advance for your prayers, they will prove to be what helps the most, I am sure.
About Mission Year
Mission Year is a year long urban ministry program focused on Christian service and discipleship. We take teams of young people, place them in an area of need, and help them to serve people and create community. We are committed to the command of Jesus to “love God and love people,” by placing the needs of our neighbors first and developing committed disciples of Christ with a heart for the poor. Learn more about our first year program…
Tristan McCray's Blog
A Saturday Breakfast... / Jun 2, 11:19 AM
I guess an appropriate blog would be to update everyone about Aucion since we had another interaction with him. As I said in my comment, Zack called Aucion some time last week to see if he needed more help getting the apartment ready as we had some more free time. The good news is that he finished the apt and it passed inspection so someone moved in last Friday. Praise the Lord, as they needed some more income to meet unexpected expenses. The bad news is that it takes away a possible way to interact with Aucion. However, Aucion suggested we get together for dinner or something, a fine idea. We ended up choosing Saturday breakfast, as our Saturdays are meant to be spent building relationships and are pretty free.
In true New Orleans fashion, Aucion arrived at our house about 45 minutes late, which is no problem once you get used to it. Saturday is our shopping day and we like to do it at Save-a-lot, but we need a ride to get there, so we asked Aucion if he wouldn’t mind driving us over there real quick. No problem, of course. We took care of that first and delivered the groceries back to our house. Breakfast, courtesy of Aucion’s wife, Dewan (an excellent cook) consisted of cheesy grits, eggs, sausage and juice. (I hadn’t had my morning coffee, so I was a bit sluggish the rest of the day…) The rest of the morning consisted of us all discussing his business plan for a new product he is producing. I’m not sure I should share much, in all seriousness, but it is patented so I guess it’ll be okay. In brief, it’s a shirt for people who wear their cell phone on their hip (literally) and are always having to lift up their shirt to access their phone. To solve this, he put a zipper in the shirt about where the cell phone would be. He’s almost ready to start marketing and we were talking about commercial ideas and how to make people want them. We were also running numbers for different types of phone service (how people will order the shirts).
I guess about this time Aucion’s friend, Robert, came over. He was helping him do some plumbing in a house. We also would use his truck later to move some scrap lumber. Another friend, Raymond, also showed up. Raymond and Aucion have been friends since they have been teenagers. Raymond had just gotten off the overnight shift at Wal-Mart (stocking shelves; he prefers overnight because there are no customers – it closes). After that he spent some time at his church where he just became a deacon. He’s also going through divorce procedures and is finding himself without a permanent place to stay so he’s been floating around between relatives. You couldn’t tell all this from Raymond’s demeanor, though. He was so helpful and just came over to help us move the lumber and hang out. He was even thankful for Wal-Mart whom he said were going to give him $1,000-2,000 to help him find an apartment. This really surprised me, as my views on Wal-Mart aren’t very high. I know I just spent a lot of time talking about Raymond, but he was just very encouraging to me and a good witness of how a Christian should act.
So, we moved some lumber, probably about five truck bed loads. It was just going down the street, but needed to be moved so they could use the side lot for something – washing cars, I guess. Aucion also does some vehicle repair, so he may need it for that, too. It wasn’t hard work and it was a beautiful day, not too hot, but sunny. We took our time and finished the job. Apparently the city will come dispose of junk if you call them and tell them where it is (and if you know someone who knows someone…). We had an ice cream sandwich (Aucion’s weakness) and by this time it was about 4:30. Wow, only here can breakfast stretch out to a whole day. And I like it like that. Honestly, the people in New Orleans are probably the most hospitable and friendly I’ve ever met. I’ve even heard it said that it’s more than just Southern Hospitality and just a special New Orleans trait. Miss Jolinda has said people even commented on it when they evacuated for Katrina (and others)to other states.
To close, Aucion and Dewan came to church again on Sunday, so that is wonderful. I guess they sometimes go to Raymond’s church for Bible study, so that is good, too. Being able to spend a whole day with someone I’ve met this year was a blessig, it really encouraged me in the relationship building aspect of Mission Year. At least (or most?), I’ve made a friend. I’m already thinking about whom I might keep in touch with after August, and Aucion is one of those people. It’s gonna be hard to decide who is worthy or who I deem ‘closer’ than others to keep in touch with. I guess, though, that this is a life long battle and I’ve already faced it a couple times from high school and college.
I hope this has encouraged you or provoked a thought or made a light click. Take what you will and leave what you won’t.
in faith, hope and love.
Comment [1]
Skilled workers? / May 19, 02:10 PM
The other Friday, Zack and I needed something to do for the afternoon. Well, actually, he needed something to do and I joined him. There is a brother from our church, Aucion, who is working on some houses to make into apartments. He has been working on them for a real long time and has some done, but others are not even started. He’s a pretty ambitious guy and has a plan to be a millionaire in like ten years or something. I hope he gets there.
Anyway, he hadn’t been to church in a long time, so Zack called him and was just chatting and seeing what was happening. In the course of things, Zack asked if we could help him with anything. Not being one to say no to free labor, he said sure and we set up a date. Friday it was.
His wife picked us up and we first went to another house that they’re buying to fix up. It’s kind of half way done, I guess. I don’t think I could be a house flipper – I don’t have enough vision. After meeting with the realtor for a second, we made our way to his house which is right down the block from the house he was working on. So…I routed some floor molding and painted it. Aucion apparently didn’t care that I hadn’t ever used a router in my life, and I guess things turned out ok. Zack helped cut tile. He hadn’t ever done that before, either. His wife, of course, made us dinner (fried fish) and we finished up our work. No matter if you’re skilled or not, six hands work faster than two.
Although this story doesn’t really have much point (and is hard to follow), I just thought I would start sharing some stories of random things that happen in my life from time to time. It is, after all, relationships I am down here to build and so I will let you see how it is I build these relationships.
Peace.
Comment [2]
Thoughts, in 3 parts. / Mar 31, 12:47 PM
Part I
This past weekend I was able to help out with the Recovery School District “All Star” Marching Band. This consisted of kids from about eight different schools in the city all coming together in one location, which happened to be Carver, where I volunteer. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared there would be some fights breaking out, etc. – rivalries run pretty high between the schools – and the purpose for the band was to play at a rally against violence in the city. They were charged with playing the National Anthem and a couple pop tunes to entertain the crowd at the rally. The kids gathered, coming in slowly after school, growing to about 140 all told. That is the most people of color I have been around by myself, being the only white guy at the practice.
I mention this because I think it is something I struggled with at the beginning of the year, if only because it hadn’t happened very often (if at all) and I didn’t know how to react. I now know how to react – be myself. I can’t know everybody’s thoughts on whites and they can’t know mine about them, but I have found that in most all of my interactions I have been accepted with handshakes and treated with respect, so I return the same.
It’s often said it’s not good to be colorblind and ignore the racism of our country, and I agree, but I also think there are ways that being colorblind is a good thing. For example, on of the first ways I might describe Mr. Lewis, the band director, to someone now would be ‘cares about the kids’ rather than ‘black’. It may seem like a minor thing, but now that I have become ‘disenchanted’, perhaps, with the color of a person’s skin, I can become enchanted with the person himself. I strongly think this has only been possible by being placed in the minority so much this year and being forced to think about race and racism. If we never experience anything different than what we are used to, we wouldn’t be able to grow and learn.
Part II
The rally the kids played at, called “Yes We Care,” was organized by local black clergy and community groups who wanted to take a stand against all the violence of the city and show the faces that it affects: the grieving mothers and the mourning siblings. One of their biggest pushes was for everyone to sign a contract of sorts, pledging not to take another African-American’s life. An underlying goal was to bring back a sense of ‘togetherness’ in the black community by bringing together a large number of people for support and encouragement.
I must say, that although things like that are scary to think about, I haven’t ever felt in danger while I’ve been down here. Part of it may be that the area we live in isn’t too populated so we are away from all the sirens of the night, etc. We also don’t know anyone who was directly affected by any sort of violence beyond car theft (yet…). I admit, I am worried sometimes, or perhaps just apprehensive, but I am never scared.
Part III
I’m not sure what the purpose of this particular blog is. It could be I wanted to tell you about the violence and the strides people are making against it. It wasn’t to scare you, no, I am safe. It could have been to show you something I get to do because of my relationship with the band. It might be to get you thinking about race and racism. Perhaps it may get you to attend some sort of rally in your city soon. Whatever affects this post has on you, these are things that happen to me and things that I think about and am faced with every day.
Peace be with you.
Comment [4]
Mardi Gras Meddlings / Feb 25, 04:47 PM
Mardi Gras. I guess it means ‘Fat Tuesday,’ but I’m not 100% sure. To me it means many things. It means parades, lots of parades. It means ‘alternatives’ to the debauchery, such as ‘Hallelujah Tuesday” at our church. It means protestors. It means drinking. It means beads, of course. It means a city shutting down to party. It means waste. It means time with family. It means King Cake. It means excess. It means ‘The Last Hurrah.” It means walking the same parade route three nights in a row. It means New Orleans is in the spotlight. It means….
Mardi Gras is the time right before Lent starts, a time to live it up before a season of reflection, leading up to Easter Sunday. The thing that has most affected me has been the enormous waste of it all. I don’t want to sound like a party pooper, because it is really fun, and neat, and impressive. I have now marched in three parades and gone to two as a spectator. I don’t denounce them or anything like that. No, I was just struck by the waving hands in the air and everyone’s one track mind: get things. Not useful things, but junk. Junk most likely made by someone underpaid in slave-like conditions in China (the most common country of production I see). I mean, hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of bead necklaces that will all be forgotten in one week. Not to mention doubloons (coins), footballs, and assorted other crap.
What do I do with all this? I let it serve as a reminder to me that my life is about more than all that. I don’t need beads. I don’t need much of anything, really. If Lent is about giving something up to show devotion to God, Mardi Gras has shown me that there is much I should give up, much that I am striving for that God doesn’t really care about and that I shouldn’t care about as a result.
I can’t start to describe Mardi Gras for you, there are so many thoughts that go through my mind, so may different aspects of it, it’s impossible. For me, Mardi Gras has been walking with the Carver Marching Rams as they parade through Uptown, bringing smiles to people’s faces and shouts of what year people graduated. It has also been a good reminder of the excess of this world and the many empty places people try to put their worth. As Lent comes, be mindful of these things; meditate as we wait for the celebration of why we live: The Resurrection.
Peace be with you.
PS – I tried to load a picture on to illustrate my point, but failed. Here is a better way anyway, so you can get a feel for Mardi Gras. Click here . You can see the crowds, the floats and the general atmosphere. If you see any marching bands, look for the green and orange of the Carver Rams!
Loving Neighbor.... / Feb 10, 04:14 PM
as yourself.
Once again, time has gotten away from me. Sorry for not writing for so long; I hope to do better in the future. In this entry, I wish to convey a story that I hope will encourage you and be beneficial for me to think about and fully analyze.
Two Saturdays ago, our team was invited by Anita to a BBQ. Wonderful! We met Anita way back in October, but hadn’t had any contact since then. She randomly turned up one day at Miss Jolinda’s (the lady who gives me lunch) and it turns out they go to the same church (which, on a side note, I really need to visit). They got to talking, I guess, and thought it would be a good way for the team to get together and meet Miss Jolinda and have some fellowship. The date was made.
That Saturday, Becky, Jess and I went to a grant writing workshop while others visited neighbors in the community. We set off around 5:00, as Anita’s house is just down the street. When we arrived we were greeted by a man asking, “Are you the ones who are gonna do something about all these weeds?” Not sure how to respond, I said, “I hope so.” Now, Anita had mentioned something before about a lot that was grown up right next to her house and asking me what I thought could be done. About all I had to offer was a promise to put her name in when Desire Street gets some volunteers later this month. I hadn’t thought anything of it, assuming that response would be good enough. Well, when we arrived, we made small talk but conversation quickly changed to the lot next door. She kept asking us what we thought we could do, citing the rats and critters it brought and how it blocked her house from the road. These things are true, but there just wasn’t anything we could do – the weeds were about 10ft tall and covered basically the whole lot. It quickly became apparent that Anita wanted us to do something that night, so we went over to have a closer look.
By this time it was starting to get dark already, but we looked over the situation and I pulled out one of the weeds, which came up easy enough, as I figured. We had no other tools, nor gloves, nor the correct clothes (thankfully, everyone had worn sneakers), but we started in. Let me be the first to tell you, I wasn’t happy. I felt betrayed, hoodwinked, fooled, taken advantage of. I wasn’t here to pull out these weeds (mini trees, almost), I was here to eat! I found myself with a scowl on my face, taking my anger out on the weeds, yanking them up forcefully. I just couldn’t understand why they hadn’t just asked us. The rest of the team was having just as rough a time dealing with the situation. Zack tried singing praise songs, Curtis went into super-work mode, while others lagged behind. It dawned on me, that this is loving my neighbor as myself, and I’m not doing a very good job of it. We continued pulling, well into the dark, being aided by a light on the house. We weren’t able to finish, but got a big chunk done. Zack and I went back on Thursday and finished up the job.
Upon reflection, this was, I think, the first time loving my neighbor was really hard. No one ever promised it would be easy, but I had always found it to be. No matter what the circumstances, we are called to show the world God by our love. I did a bad job of it that night. Not that we quit or said no, but our attitudes were about the most foul and pessimistic as they had ever been – far from the love God calls us to show.
Lord, heal me. Grant me a spirit of love…always.
