After Liz Hauck 鈥�00, M.Ed. 鈥�09 lost her father to cancer, she decided to follow through on a project she and her dad had discussed before his illness. They had planned to conduct a cooking program at a residential home for adolescent boys who were living in state care. The residence, dubbed 鈥渢he House,鈥� was part of a Boston nonprofit agency where Liz鈥檚 father, Charlie Hauck 鈥�69, had devoted more than 30 years of his professional life.
鈥淭he prospect of spending time in the place my father had spent so much of his time when he wasn鈥檛 with us, and getting to know some of the other kids in his life, was intriguing,鈥� according to Hauck. 鈥淚 would never make another meal with my dad, but cooking at the House with his other kids like we talked about would be a kind of final nod to him, an offering.鈥�
"Only if we consider ourselves bound together can we reimagine our obligation to each other as community," writes Liz Hauck. Photo of Hauck by Carrie Lloyd
Hauck, a teacher and former AmeriCorps volunteer, knew her way around a community service project like the one she was about to undertake. In fact, volunteering had been something she had done since age 10 and was a hallmark of her time as a student at Boston College. Her 鈥渞ules鈥� for service are straightforward:
1)聽聽 Show up when you say you will show up.
2)聽聽 Know your one small task and do it the best you can.
3)聽聽 Be prepared to improvise.
4)聽聽 Leave when you are supposed to leave, and then come back again.
The first meal at the House was stir-fry chicken, rice, vegetables, and apple pie for dessert. Hauck continued to show up and cook at the House鈥攆or nearly three years and 100 meals.
These shared meals, as Hauck is quick to point out, weren鈥檛 intended to 鈥渟ave鈥� anyone or be a solution to systemic inequality, but they were a means of accompaniment and a way to build community.
Hauck has chronicled her experience in a new memoir, (Dial Press/Random House, 2021). The book has received a from the New York Times, starred reviews from Kirkus and Booklist, and a callout from People magazine.
Via email, Hauck answered questions from 糖心vlog直播平台 News about her time at the Heights and her experience and lessons learned at the House.
Service was part of your identity as a student at 糖心vlog直播平台. Can you share what programs you participated in and the impact they had on you?
Hauck: 鈥淚t鈥檚 not an exaggeration to say that my community life at 糖心vlog直播平台 was formed in service programs鈥� from freshman year through senior year. My best friendships, my worldview, and nearly all of my beyond-the-classroom college education emerged from early morning, messy but great service projects through the Emerging Leader Program and Shaw Leadership Program as well as Appalachia Volunteers and 4Boston, and then Ignacio Volunteers. And after graduation, I was a Jesuit Alumni Volunteer for two years in Chicago with two fellow 糖心vlog直播平台 grads. All of these programs had a tremendous impact on my understanding of ideas about community and who our neighbors are and issues related to equality and distribution of resources, as well as my evolving sense of what one person can actually do. The Ignatian ideal of the education of the self for the service of others is a practice I learned at 糖心vlog直播平台 and have carried through the work of my life.鈥�
How was cooking and sharing a meal with the residents of the House different from other types of volunteering you could have done there, such as tutoring?
Hauck: 鈥淭o be clear, I would have been more equipped to run a tutoring program than a cooking program, for sure鈥� I鈥檇 run one in Chicago for two years and regularly tutored my own high school students after school. But the teenaged boys in state care who lived at the House weren鈥檛 interested in tutoring, and they wanted to eat more than they wanted to cook for themselves. One of the kids told me rightly that everyone would prefer if I would just cook so they could just eat. But then the first night that we cooked together, when I suggested that people could make plates and eat in the tv room or wherever they wanted, that same kid was the one who insisted that we sit down at the table and all eat together鈥� like a family, not like a buffet. Cooking and then eating together at a table in a place that wasn鈥檛 anybody鈥檚 real home was messier and so much more urgent, personal, and delicious than any other kind of project I could have imagined.鈥�
What is something you learned from your time at the House that you would like others to better understand about the lives of those in the House? About being a volunteer?
Hauck: 鈥淎 big part of volunteering is showing up. You can鈥檛 do all of the things that are necessary to make a big difference and catalyze social change, but you can always do something鈥� and it starts with showing up.鈥�
How did the experience at the House鈥攁nd writing about it鈥攈elp you deal with your grief over your father鈥檚 death?
Hauck: 鈥淚n some ways, the impulse to write this book was not unlike the impulse to put a stone or marker in the world to mark a place in memory of someone who has gone, to literally try to fill a bit of that emptiness and leave some proof that a person鈥攚ho lived and was loved鈥攚as there and hold that space. My book is a little monument in that sense. Since it鈥檚 been out in the world, I鈥檝e been getting letters from people (mostly strangers) who do this kind of care work or have suffered similar losses and at first these letters are about my story but then quickly become about other people鈥檚 stories and then a bigger conversation about realizing that we are not alone in the hardest, darkest corners of our lives and how there鈥檚 comfort in knowing and feeling that. As a volunteer, I knew in real time that the cooking project was about accompaniment, but I鈥檓 only now appreciating as a writer how reading and being read are practices of accompaniment, too. I was grieving when I started this and I鈥檓 still grieving, but in a different way now; a thing that I learned about grief in the process of translating my experience鈥�of cooking and eating dinners with these teenaged boys in state care for three years鈥�into this story about food and grief and community is that we need to pay more attention to grief and who gets space to grieve and how we can help people, especially kids, deal with grief. The kids at the House were all grieving compounded losses of family, expectations, and experiences of childhood, but so much of the time their grief was only read and treated as anger and withdrawal and violence. Surviving this pandemic has been a kind of master class in compounded grief. My hope is that this new awareness translates into better therapeutic practices around grief for kids in state care.鈥�
Kathleen Sullivan | University Communications | September 2021