A lay missionary in Taiwan learns about herself and others during her prison ministry.
By Christine Ortaliz

I knew Timothy McVeigh was going to be executed on June 11 back in 2001. But I guess it was just in the back of my mind. The next morning I saw the front page of the newspaper. “God, I’m so sorry. I forgot. I’m so sorry. . .” I went to my room and cried.

I forgot to pray for Timothy McVeigh.

I took time to pray for his soul, but the only images that kept running through my head were the faces of all the kids I see every week at the Hsinchu Youth Detention Center in Hsinchu, Taiwan.

“I’m sorry, God. I forgot. I forgot. . .” At that instant, I realized I not only forgot to pray for Timothy McVeigh, but I had not been praying for the women and kids I see every week at the Hsinchu prison.

I have been in Taiwan for nearly three years now. My primary ministry is with disadvantaged youth in detentioncenters. These kids in the Hsinchu center are 11 to 17 years old. Once they turn 18, they are moved to the adult prison. The violations that bring them to the center include running away from home, theft and murder.

Ms. Chen played Santa at a Mainland Detention Center Christmas performance given by the Hsinchu Diocese prison ministry group.

“What? You’re here again?” I asked an 11-year-old boy one day.

“Were you stealing again?”

“No, no,” he replied. His rosy cheeks glowed as he smiled. “Teacher, last time I was here for stealing. This time I am here because of drugs.”

Then he turned to his friend and giggled. I didn’t find it funny. The first time he was in the detention center, he was scared and wanted to go home. This time I could tell that he didn’t mind being here; he had grown accustomed to it.

Pushed To The Edges
A local Taiwanese religious Sister who trains people to work with disadvantaged youth explained to me that in Taiwan, young people are already pushed toward society’s edges.

Teen-agers grow up in a mixture of the local Chinese culture and Western culture, being socio-centric and individualistic respectively, and must also face the challenges of capitalism and consumerism.

Many parents, a rigid school system and a nation striving to make it economically in a globalized world put pressure on Taiwanese youth, leaving them feeling trapped with few choices concerning their future.

Furthermore, disadvantaged youth also face domestic problems and financial hardships.

Twice a week, I accompany a local Taiwanese woman named Ms. Chen who has ministered to youth at the detention centers for many years now. These kids I visit aren’t easy to teach, especially in Mandarin Chinese, which is difficult for me.

Sometimes preparing for a half-hour activity in Mandarin can take me up to four hours.

To maintain their tough-guy image, the boys I visit switch into their local Taiwanese language when they feel embarrassed or under pressure or when they don’t understand what I say.

Instead of losing face, I guess they see it as a chance to get revenge on me and a laugh from their friends.

Instead of being frustrated, I take a step back and laugh with them. I see it as fair game!

The kids speak very fast and can use a mixture of Taiwanese and Mandarin slang that I don’t understand, which can be a setback in our communication. Because I need a lot of energy to work with them, there are times when I am drained and feel I’m not getting through.

But just when I feel my work is pointless, amazing experiences—what I like to call small miracles—bless me: the kids change their attitude; are enthusiastic to learn; are not afraid to chat with me; indirectly seek my attention, read simple words in English on their own and so on. Little experiences like these make it all worthwhile.

Sharing & Growing Together
I often ask the kids what a certain Chinese character or phrase means. When this happens, I can sense their compassion for me, for I am no longer “Teacher Wong.” (Wong is the Chinese surname I use here.)

They are empowered because they can shed their “meaningless troublemaker” label and become my teacher, and a teacher in Chinese culture is a position of honor.

When I started working with disadvantaged youth, my Mandarin wasn’t good, so I would teach about 10 minutes of English to the kids, and the remaining time in the two-hour class was given to Ms. Chen.
Just recently I realized I am now teaching a full one-hour class, thanks be to God! I sometimes amaze myself because my vocabulary has increased to the point where I can sometimes creatively incorporate deeper issues such as moral values, society, family and personal development in my classes.

I encounter many challenges every week that keep me on my toes and push me to grow and develop my creativity, teaching skills and sensitivity in dealing with these young people.

I know when I talk to friends back in the States about my life and what I do in Taiwan, it never sounds like much. But it’s about just being with the kids, especially when parents cannot be there with them and for them.

For me, Catholic mission is not about how much I do or can teach them, but about how we can share with each other and grow together. I knew this before I came to Taiwan, but only now, without the comfort of my own culture and language, do I understand more deeply what this means.

One day, I told the kids I was going away on a retreat. Two of the boys, imprisoned for murder, looked at me with excitement. “Will you be passing through Ilan, our hometown?” they asked.

They then told me about all the recreational activities I could do in Ilan (which is in northeast Taiwan) and all the best places for sightseeing.

Then, there was sadness in their eyes. “You’ll be so close to our families,” they said. “Think of us when you pass through Ilan.”

The day we passed Ilan, I shared this little story with everyone, then fell silent. I thanked God for the reminder, closed my eyes and said a prayer for them.

Christine Ortaliz and another prison ministry volunteer attended an annual ecumenical Christmas party with these foreign inmates at a Taipei prison.

Even though the boys try to keep up the tough-guy image, I can see that these activities help them relax, be at peace and exercise their creativity. She likes to challenge the kids to analyze their society and family, to think for themselves and to listen to their heart.

Ms. Chen also uses cultural elements such as traditional Chinese writings to help them understand their relationship to others in society. Her use of traditional writings such as the Analects (Confucian sayings) that kids learn in school makes her ministry unique.

How is this a part of mission? Many of my friends in the States ask this. A stereotypical image of mission is preaching about the Bible and teaching others about the life of Jesus Christ. In Taiwan, however, where only 5 percent of the population is Christian, many Western concepts of Christianity are incomprehensible. Teaching values through Christianity is not the best approach to help the kids’ personal development.

When Ms. Chen discusses how these Chinese texts relate to their family situations, I have caught her telling the boys that Teacher Wong comes from a very good “American” family. She would explain why I turned out to be such a good person, and that American families never hit to discipline their kids.

Wow! I had never talked to her about details of my own family, so I realized that perhaps Taiwanese assume that all American parents never hit their kids and that, because I am a missionary, I must have been a good child who has perfect parents. I tell them that, naturally, neither of these assumptions is true.

To my surprise, I find issues and experiences I share in common with the kids. Like them, I grew up with a dualistic cultural environment as my parents are Filipino immigrants to the United States. As a child, I subconsciously struggled to find a way to live within two different cultures at the same time.

Growing up, I would spend my days in school or with my American friends in an individualistic culture. Then, I would return home to my family circle with parents of a collectivistic, community-centered culture where there was a fear of shame and losing face.

Raising us as they knew how, my parents also feared that we would become too individualistic and too “American.” I never understood why the outside world and my inner family circle were different. I also struggled with finding my inner goodness, and believing that I am good and loved just the way I am. Teaching the kids in the detention center reminds me of this.

The Taiwanese religious Sister who trains volunteers to work with disadvantaged youth once wrote, “The motivation of the service is coming from the vision which is stirred by the truth in the inner world of the individual.”

I find this to be true from my experiences here. There was a time when I doubted my chosen ministry, thinking that perhaps my choice was not the best for me. But the more I discover truths about myself and my experiences, the more enthusiastic I became about my commitment and my chosen ministry.

‘Each Infant’s Education Is Different’
The kids have learned what is called the San Zi Jing (Three Character Classic) from Ms. Chen. It summarizes the main elements of Confucian thought and is written in couplets of three that make it easy for young children to learn and memorize.

The kids have motivated me to study the meaning of San Zi Jing myself. In studying it, I learn more about traditional Chinese society’s perspectives on a child’s relationships and responsibilities to parents, teachers and society. I also have discovered its relation to my own family and society. It has been a wonderful gift from God. The San Zi Jing begins:

Ren zhi chu
(When a person is born)
Xing ben shan
(They are originally good-natured and kind-hearted)
Xing xiang jin
(Everyone is similarly good and kind-hearted)
Xi xiang yuan
(But each infant’s education is different)

When I understood what these Chinese characters meant, I felt enlightened and deeply moved. I was reminded of my own goodness, but I realized that God had given me yet another reminder to pray for these kids. Every time I open the San Zi Jing, I feel drawn to first pray for the youth whom I teach.

My Chinese teacher once asked if I believe these words from the San Zi Jing. And, if I did, what experience could I cite that led me to believe this. At first I couldn’t think of anything at all. But later, I broke the silence with a gasp of enlightenment.

When God created the heavens, the Earth, all the animals and even humankind, God saw that they were good. I pray that in my time here, I and the kids will continue to discover the truth of our innate goodness and that we all will journey and grow together to become who we truly are—the children of God.