Connecting the Dots: Uganda Piggery Project

There are few times in life when a number of different, unrelated circumstances align themselves. And in those moments in my life, I feel so connected to God, to others, to myself, that I can’t help but smile and think that maybe all of my quirks and passions can be the sign of something much greater than myself.

I’ve always been fascinated by astronomy – the way some ancient thinkers were able to connect a bunch of separate points in the sky and create a picture out of them. Looking at a group of stars, I wouldn’t imagine that they look a little like a ladle, but because someone did, the Big Dipper is easily the most recognizable constellation in the night sky.

One of my favorite things to do as a kid was to flip through a coloring book and find the pages with the Connect-the-Dot puzzles; the ones that were easy to solve without drawing a single line bored me, but the ones that only made sense after you connected a few dots were the best ones.

I’m learning that my life is a lot like one of those Connect-the-Dot puzzles that are hard to solve.

And the best ones are still when you can’t make out the picture at first.

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My grandma left behind a company she started by turning the pork from pigs that she raised on her property’s pig farm to food products using her own family’s recipes. After my school career, being unable to find a job elsewhere, I settled on a position there, at my family’s company. Surprisingly, the job developed from one I simply had to do between looking for a different job to one I loved.

Working with pork runs in my blood, I guess.

Dot.

I was born into a Catholic family and raised as a Catholic. Due to some serious issues with my health, I began to question that line of faith (and faith in general) and left any idea of faith for a while. I strayed into agnosticism and atheism, but felt incomplete there. I loved (and still love) some of the tenets of Protestantism, and many of my Protestant friends are the closest friends I have and some of the holiest people I know. Protestantism, for me, served as a vital lesson and was a crucial step in my coming home to Catholicism. The Catholic church is my home and where I learned of God and where I find God to this day. It is my rock and, as much as I learn from and love others of different beliefs, it’ll remain my home.

Looking especially studious in my Catholic school garb and glasses.

Dot.

In 2005, as a sophomore in college, I stumbled into a movie showing for free on-campus that was new to me. It was called Invisible Children, and I had no idea it would affect my life and my way of thinking permanently. The documentary shows an unnoticed crisis happening in Uganda, wherein people face hardships and devastation daily. As a teenager centered in America, I didn’t concern myself with the rest of the world; this film put a crack in that dam. I bought the Invisible Children movie and talked about it constantly. (I definitely annoyed my friends.) I helped one of my friends to form the Invisible Children Lafayette Street Team, which scheduled screenings of the movie in my city, held art auctions and other fundraisers to raise money for Uganda, held an awareness-raising silent “white flag parade” which only explained ourselves to people asking why we were bedecked in white and marching silently downtown, and brought the biggest group to the New Orleans “Displace Me,” an awareness raising event for those displaced in Uganda. Invisible Children ignited a special passion in my heart for the people of Uganda, who symbolized to me how important it was to see the world as a global community, and not let empathy stop at national borders.

Me signing my name on “Laffy-Town,” the Lafayette group’s makeshift camp for our overnight stay at Displace Me.

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Also as a sophomore, I formed a great friendship – one with Joseph, who was my only friend from the Catholic church on campus. After a while, he asked me to join him and the church on campus on a mission trip to a small town in southern Mexico. Since I couldn’t speak any Spanish and I required the full-time use of a wheelchair, I laughed off the idea. Joseph persisted and eventually I agreed. The mission trip during New Years of 2005 is one I won’t forget: mainly because of the witnessing of putting compassion into action, which was refreshing to me; but also because from that trip, I met a large group of people that hung around at the Catholic Student Center on campus. I began to be a recognized face around there, and that probably helped me to become Vice-President of the Leadership Team there, then president. The Catholic Church became less of an external object for me and I began to take part in its formation and its charity.

Believe it or not, girls aren’t the only reason to go on mission trips.

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My friend Blake is a year or two older than me. He is also my godson. Blake and I met during college, and he eventually felt called to become a Catholic, and asked me to be his sponsor. We learned the night before his confirmation that since Blake was never baptized, his sponsor was to be his godparent as well. In more ways than one, I am the godfather. I first made Blake watch the Invisible Children movie, and he joined me in being a part of the Lafayette Street Team. After he graduated, he accepted an internship at the Invisible Children office. Blake invited me to San Diego and to go visit the IC office. I told him that I would go, but I probably wouldn’t have enough time to visit the office. That night I received a text message from a strange California number. Jason Russell, the star and creator of the IC documentary, asked me personally to stop by the office. So I did. We were able to hang out in his office and talk for an hour – about books, faith, and missionary activity throughout the world. When I left Blake to go to the airport, I realized that I’d gotten the experience of seeing my godson happy in one of the coolest cities in the US and the added bonus of meeting one of my personal heroes and being able to call him friend.

Unfortunately, this is the only picture I have of me and Blake – it’s a Lost party; he’s Locke and I’m a conniving Ben. I apologize for this picture.

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Kony 2012 happened. Its insane viral spreading made the name “Invisible Children” famous (and infamous in some cases). The week after its launch, I witnessed how overloaded Jason seemed, even through our weekly text message dialogue. I got a few friends together and planned on sending Jason a package of encouraging letters and well wishes from a handful of IC supporters in my area. I was prepared to send the package on the following Monday, but Jason’s mental breakdown happened on that Friday. It was very public and very embarrassing. For a moment, I didn’t know what to think: this guy I had gotten to know was being smeared all over the country. My friend Blake gave me a call on Friday night, asking seriously, “What do we do now?” I think that was the point I decided on how I’d proceed; I said, not knowing what I’d say, “Nothing changed. We know who he is and what he stands for. He’s gone through a stressful situation and had a breakdown, but if I went through something similar, I hope that I have friends who would stand by me through it all.” I’m proud to say that I was an Invisible Children fan before hipster glasses and Taylor Swift went viral. And I’m humbled to be able to say that Jason is still a friend of mine.

My buddy Jason with me.

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Joseph, my friend from college who first introduced me to the beauty of missionary activity, now serves as the director for his family’s nonprofit Catholic mission business, Family Missions Company. Through contributing to their social media promotion, I was able to befriend a guy who runs a Catholic youth ministry in Uganda named Moses. He has told me that his ministry is beginning a project to help the residents of his village work for legitimate income: they are seeking to start a pig farm to train and hire local villagers so that they can gain enough income for food, shelter, and medicines for their families.

Joseph, probably playing Solitaire or something at his new job.

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Pig farming, Catholicism, missionary activity, and Uganda have all swirled together in my life to create something awesome. By connecting the dots out of these random points in my life, I’m starting to see a shape emerge. I think  it may be a fingerprint of God. All I know is, I am blessed to be where I am, and honored to be a part of the Piggery Project in Uganda.

To check out the details of this project and donate, please click here.