Archive - Story Saturday – Celestia - November 19th, 2017

THIS POST WAS ORIGINALLY MADE NOVEMBER 19TH OF 2017 ON OUR ORIGINAL WORDPRESS

We believe stories matter.

Stories have power. When you know another’s story and connect with them, it’s much harder to be ambivalent. Stories help us learn from other’s experiences and perspectives and help us grow.

Today, we are featuring Celestia Favela, whom we’ve been lucky enough to know for a few years. She is one of the kindest, most empathetic, patient, innovative people we know. 

Celestia is currently a 21-year old, full-time student at Fort Hays. Living at home with her parents and younger sister, she is currently pursuing a degree in education.. She works at Metropolitan Coffee and is in the arduous process of becoming a substitute teacher here in Hutchinson and can we just say – they are lucky to have her.

She is a Hutch native – born and raised – and while her plan was never to stay in Hutchinson past High School, she confesses she loves it here and is glad she hung around.

We’re glad too.

So. Let’s dive in!

How would you define or describe yourself?

Hmm…I’m an organized mess. I feel like I thrive on organization, but I’m always ten steps behind on trying to organize this mess. But somehow everything works together. I think I’m passionate… maybe a visionary. I think I can see the possibilities and can organize the steps to get there.

That was obvious with your organization of the Cinco De Mayo celebration this past year. (Oh yeah, did we mention she totally pulled that together in just a month, almost single-handedly, while being a full-time student, working two jobs at the time – while she had pneumonia??? This girl is goals.)

That was crazy. It was one month to plan a huge event. It was a bit stressful, trying to not make people mad but also trying to stay true to my vision for the event. And maybe now we’ll be doing that Target vigil.

It’s neat to see you use your vision for both important and funny things. I love that the news has picked up the Target vigil story as a real thing. (We can all have a good chuckle over the joke event Celestia created on Facebook – a candlelight vigil to mourn Target’s closing – that was picked up by the news.)

I heard that the TV picked it up, too. It’s so funny. I get random Facebook messages about it, and I wonder if maybe I could get the Hutchinson Community Foundation involved, and then I think, ‘I have a lot of homework.’

Was there a point in childhood where you felt different, or were made to feel that you didn’t belong?

Kindergarten through second grade, I went to Avenue A School, and we lived just north of Ave A. My parents were super young; my mom was 17 and my dad was 19 or 20. They were just trying to do their best, and I think they did awesome. It wasn’t terrible, but they were trying to get me to skip a grade because I was excelling.

So, in third grade, my parents got me into Obee Elementary, which was a 25-minute drive every day. I don’t think I realized there was a big difference in the schools, because school is school. But, looking back, in retrospect, Ave A is highly Hispanic and Obee Elementary is not. I didn’t really recognize these differences until middle school.

Because I went to Prairie Hills, but I was still living on W German St. I’d have friends with really nice houses, whose parents were doctors, and I lived in this house that I was honestly really ashamed about at the time. So, I’d never have friends over, and I really kept that part of my life really shuttered.

Celestia's crossed feet, wearing grey Toms, over a grey carpet.

I think, because my mom is blonde with green eyes, and my dad is full Mexican, if people aren’t aware of my heritage, I can kind of blend in. I think my Hispanic culture isn’t something I really acknowledged until high school.

So, I went to Hutch High, and I felt, just, normal there. It’s not that I felt really abnormal in middle school, though I think everyone feels abnormal in middle school, but looking back I can see that it was a weird time. Even though it was more a socioeconomic thing, than a race issue.

What perspectives do you have from the times you spent in predominantly white spaces?

The first 20 years of my life, it’s crazy, but I was just kind of going through life. I mean, I knew race was an issue, but I didn’t understand it too well. But, this summer, I went out to California for a 10-week internship, and it was the first time I recognized that things aren’t totally great… That there ARE these things.

I thought, ‘Man, I have really insulated myself from this. And I have people in Hutch that I love a lot who really deal with this, and I can’t even begin to empathize with them because I don’t really understand it.’

So this summer was the first time I began to understand. I feel like the scales have been removed from my eyes a bit. I remember the first week, they told us how, in Revelations, it talks about every nation and every tongue worshiping before the throne, and, that, as a church, shouldn’t we desire that?

"I feel like the scales have been removed from my eyes."

So, coming back, and going to a church that is predominantly white…I know everyone at my church loves each other and doesn’t intend to hurt anyone, but if you keep yourself insulated and don’t intentionally step outside of your bubble, I think it makes it easy, just to be comfortable with the way things are.

It’s interesting to hear from you that, even though you identify as a minority, that it’s easy for even you to ignore issues of race.

It’s so interesting, because I don’t think children really see race. I mean, we studied slavery in school, but I didn’t really understand the implications until this past year. I have two uncles who are black, and I never thought of them any differently. Then it kinda clicked.

I asked my uncle, recently… he lives in Houston… what he thinks about Charlottesville. What he was thinking, and feeling. It was the first time I thought, ‘Man, he’s a different race than I am, and he has different issues to face than I do.’

Is there a time when you feel the most lonely?

I’m not sure. I’m always around people. I mean, either I’m at work around people or at church around people… I’m not sure if I do feel lonely.

Describe a time you felt special.

I love to event plan and coordinate things like that. One of my friends got married in August, and she told me that she knew a wedding planner she thought I would get along great with. So I ended up helping her coordinate a wedding. We met the bride and groom that day, and she and I set up everything and made everything happen. Just me and her, and it was awesome. I love event planning, and being recognized by my friend and that coordinator that I am really good at that, felt really good.

I think the times I feel the most special are when my passions are affirmed. I think it’s easy to do negative self-talk, like, ‘Someone else can probably do it better,’ so having your abilities recognized by someone else feels really special.

What’s your favorite thing about your community here in Hutchinson?

Oh yay! I tell people this all the time: ‘In Hutch, you really have the ability to make a difference.’

If you lived in San Francisco, maybe you couldn’t so easily go to City Council or sit down and talk with the mayor.

A quote in white print on light teal background, that reads, " In Hutch , you have the ability to make a difference."

I don’t think it’s (Hutchinson) small, but I don’t think it’s big. It’s that perfect size where you can make ripples and people can begin to be influenced by you. I recognized that at HCC, first. I was president of the Honors Council, and we would do things as the honors group that would make ripples on campus. And I thought that was really cool.

Then, with the Cinco De Mayo thing, I began to see that it’s not impossible to make the difference that you want to see here.

I feel like people are so quick to complain or say, ‘Hutch sucks.’ I just want to go up to them and ask them what they’re doing about the things they don’t like. I don’t think it’s going to be six people sitting on City Council that makes a difference; I think it’s going to be 40,000 people working together, as a community, the way it should be.

A photo from The Hutchinson News, by Katy Kildee. "Amber Bussard, right, and Ben Moore, left, compete in a taco eating contest during a Cinco de Mayo Celebration on May 6, 2017 in George Pyle Park."

What’s one thing you wish people knew, or did differently, about the way they interact with you and your family?

I have a friend, who, every time he comes over, he starts talking to my dad in Spanish. I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I think he just recognizes that my dad’s Hispanic. But I think it makes my dad feel a little weird. I mean, he knows Spanish. But English is his first language. He’s never said that, but I know my dad and I can see that it makes him a little uncomfortable.

By just assuming that he wants to speak Spanish?

Yeah. That would be one way of interacting with my family, realizing that we’re just normal, I mean, even though my dad looks different. His parents were immigrants. His dad immigrated from Mexico, and got sent back three times, but he finally made it.

I think I’m a pretty independent person, and some think I need people constantly. You know when you asked me earlier about feeling lonely? I think that when I’m alone, I don’t really feel lonely because I really am very independent. So I don’t always need people constantly around me.

A cup of tea in a grey blue mug, held by Celestia on her lap.

I wish people would realize that, when there are times that I might come across as cold, or not wanting to hang out, that my independence kind of pushes me to isolation sometimes. I need to be very mindful of that, because it’s not good for me to always be alone, but I’ve found a pretty good balance.

So, do you have a hero?

Man, there’s a lot of people in my life that I really look up to. I think of two people… three people… women at my church, Amy Horton, Lilika Albuquerque, Kris Goertzen… I feel like those women have given me so much of their lives to look at and to model. They’re all so different.

Amy is so gentle and kind and patient, not that the other two aren’t. But Lilika is like, ‘Go do it!’ She’s from Brazil, and she has the personality to say, ‘What do you mean, you already worked twelve hours? Go do that!’

And Kris is so wise. If I think of someone who’s a visionary, that I want to be like, it’s her. She is awesome. So those three women have been in my life, and I think I’ve been able to learn from the best qualities of all of them.

Another person is Ryan Diehl. He was my advisor both years at HCC, and he kind of talked me out of dropping out of college. He’s a very community-oriented person, and if I ever had a question, he was there.

I still text him sometimes, send him life updates every now and then. He’s very patient and very kind, and he’s the one who made me start considering being a teacher. I remember one time I went into his office, about to cry, and I said, ‘I don’t want to do business and I don’t want to work at this job anyone.’ And he was like, ‘Okay, then don’t.’ He was a very calm voice of reason, and I can see how he affects our community now, and it’s awesome.

What’s your favorite thing to do, and why?

I really like to… Three things: I’ve started to do yoga a lot, with Adi. It’s very calming and is one of those things I’m naturally good at, and it’s been really cool to be affirmed in that. Once, the whole class stopped and started clapping for me, and I was like, ‘This is so awesome!’

I also like to clean and organize, but not all the time. I don’t keep things clean, but I like to clean up the messes that I make.

I also like to write, a lot. I have a journal that I’ve been keeping for the past year, and I just read an entry from last year. I was like, ‘Whoa. I totally forgot that happened!’ It’s been a really awesome way to reflect on things.

A profile photo of Celestia, in black or white, sitting in a wooden chair, in front of a window.

Okay, time to recap. Is there a question I should have asked, and didn’t?

I’d like to share more about my grandpa. He’s one of my best friends. I call him Papa. He’s awesome.

He came to America when he was 16, and got deported. Then he just kept coming. It’s so crazy to think that, if my grandpa had decided he didn’t want to come back after the second time he got deported, that he didn’t want to try again, I wouldn’t be here, sitting in Hutchinson, KS, doing this interview with you.

He doesn’t talk a lot about it. Maybe I should ask more questions. He didn’t know any English, and he has this funny story he tells all the time, about when he was working in a factory soon after he got here. In Spanish, the word “blood” is “sangre”. He cut his finger, and they took him to the hospital because it was really bad.

So he was telling people, “mas sangre”, and they couldn’t understand him. They thought he was saying, “I’m hungry.” So they kept trying to give him food, and he was like, “No, just fix my finger! It’s bleeding again!” He couldn’t communicate.

He taught himself English, and he’s been really passionate about me learning Spanish really well. His house, if you walk into it, you immediately know that someone from Mexico lives here. I think it’s really cool, because having people like him in my life makes me realize that I need to keep my comfort bubble popped. I feel like he always pushes me to recognize the Hispanic part of myself, and I’m really thankful for him.

I remember, this summer, during the internships, when we talked about immigration. When they told us we were discussing immigration, I didn’t think it would be that hard for me. But it was really hard, really hard. I didn’t usually cry during those discussions, but seeing everything that’s happening… with the Muslim ban… and the DACA thing… They asked us what our opinions were, and I didn’t think I had any. Then everything began to click for me, and I realized my grandpa was in this position.

A photo, from behind, of a dark haired woman wearing a backpack, standing on a dock, with boats in the background.

These women and children are dying. That was when it really hit for me, and I cried. We really need to reform our immigration to help people. It also made me think a lot about the exploitation that happens once they get here, and they don’t know English, how to get plugged into schools, or get a good job. That’s the first time that bubble of comfort popped for me, and I was like, “What the heck? How long has this been happening, and why have I not seen this?”

I think you’re an incredible voice for people in our community because you kind of bridge that divide. Like you said, you could identify and pass as white, but you’re also learning so much about the stories of your family and people like them. So you’re a great bridge-builder for people in our town and in your church. We’re so lucky to have you.

It’s funny that you use that terminology, because this summer we were in a community that was Hispanic, black, and Muslim, and other interns were recognized as being different, but I wasn’t too different to be recognized as not belonging there. That was really cool.

I know Spanish, but if I practiced it more, I could speak it better. But this summer, when someone tried to talk to someone in our group in Spanish, if they didn’t know it, they’d send me to talk to them, and I think it made people feel a lot more comfortable.

That’s so cool. I think there’s a big need for people who know Spanish in our town, especially, like you were saying, for immigrants who are having to learn a whole new language and culture, to have people who can understand them.

And advocating for them! Another thing: Teaching is one of my goals, but I would love to partner with Teach for America and get a master’s in educational policy to advocate for kids in schools. I don’t know if that will be kids in Hutchinson, or kids in a bigger city, but being in that position where I can advocate for people… I can empathize with this culture and that culture, and I can see things from different perspectives… I think the Lord has molded me into a person who has a heart for that and has that skill set for that. Educational policy is kind of the end goal for me. That’s something I’m really excited for.

A photo of a smiling Celestia.












Miriam Kitson