Full to the Brim

Days like today a watch is not a way of telling time.
It is merely a weight on your wrist.
Days like today are measured in questions
and exclamations
and silent wonder
from students covered in mud,
but still smiling and happy.

Days like today water doesn't come from a tap.
Instead, it dumps down on your tin roof
and proudly announces itself.
It leaps from redwood boughs
with sunlight illuminating its descent
to the soft, welcoming duff.

Days like today are kissed with delight
and tangible love.
Seeping into every pore and surging
through my veins.

A wide-eyed child.
A sharing of knowledge.
A giddy laugh.
A nostalgic exchange of memories.

Days like today
minds are not just filled;
secrets are not just shared;
happiness is not just real;
but hearts are full of love
and my cup over-floweth.

Jumping Off A Cliff

Sometimes you take a leap of faith.  Nevermind that the leap you take feels like you just jumped off a bridge or a cliff with no parachute, compacted with no escape route or safe landing apparent to you.  But, somehow, you find a safe landing spot and look around and realize that no matter how interesting or surprising or demanding or chaotic or random, life is good and you have found a good, safe, comfy place to land.  That's how I felt today.

Exactly one year ago today I knew that I would be moving to Port Angeles, WA, in order to join the North Olympic AmeriCorps, but I did not know much more than that.  Being in exactly the same physical place that I was in a year ago (with the addition of my awesome dog, Maise) has given me a lot to think about the past few days.  In fact, I'm in the same place I was five years ago, but I am a different person than one year ago, and much different from the magical summer of 2006.

Tonight the moon guided me home as she often does.  I was singing and cruising my way over Hwy 17, coming back from an absolutely glorious day in Santa Cruz.  The sky had been blue without a cloud in the sky, there was a mild breeze off of the Pacific, and I had a great day at the beach watching Maise learn about waves and playing with other dogs, and then later meeting up with a wonderful soul I have known for most of my life.

As I watched the sun set over the hills I was filled with the feeling of sweet serendipity.  Going forward I know that I will make the right choices and I will go down the right path.  There is no other way.  I am surrounded by my best friends all along this coast.  One I have not seen or communicated with in months, but she still hit the nail exactly on the head when it came to discussing relationships.  Another friend, more like a sister if you will, accepts me for who I am regardless if I am very opposite than her in so many ways.  She understands the phrase "Get out your Chacos!" and doesn't hesitate to send supportive messages my way.  Another I feel through the music she gave me; I know why she picked some songs and can only guess why others were included, but I feel her support and love through it all.  An email made its way to me tonight, too. It was to the point and gave me the details I was wondering about.  My friend, not on this coast, is safe and happy and looking forward to the next chapter.

I can not pretend it's not hard to be away from them.  My AmeriCorps family understood me.  My housemates, my coworkers, my teammates; they understood.  I'm still decompressing.  How could I not?  So much happened in the past year.  I grew so much.  I made so many friends.  I worked harder than I ever have in my life before.  In the week that I have been gone from them I have had some times where my throat closes up and I get tears in my eyes because I miss them so much.  So.  Much.  But the sadness that stems from being away from them does not compare to the happiness that they bring to my life, so I can not be sad and missing them for too long.  I am so thankful to these friends that often tears spring to my eyes.  The fact that just me was enough meant the world to me.  Means the world to me.

It is good to be home.  The moon was close by, accompanying me back to the Mountain View house. As much as I will miss my kids from last year, and my very good friends - no - my family I found, I know this is where I belong.  The sea tells me so.  The moon tells me so.  My hearts tells me so.

Bubble Wrapping It Up

Tonight my house is quiet.  Maise is asleep next to me.  Marie and Chase have retired to slumber as well.  All I hear are the crickets in my frog's tank and the echo of my steps as I walk through the house with the emptier walls lined with packed boxes.

Today I worked my last shift as an AmeriCorps volunteer.  There was no ceremony to it.  I spent the final seven hours at the Olympic Coast Discovery Center, five of them with Marie, the two of us giggling the hours away while we stuck stickers on Jenga pieces to create a game the represents how all life forms in the ocean are connected.  After we were done we walked briskly home talking about what we wanted to get at Costco, our next stop of the day.  And now I'm done, and tomorrow brings packing more boxes and putting more of my life into storage.

When I moved to Port Angeles I brought way too much stuff.  My car and my parents' van were packed to the brim with no piece of empty space going to waste.  My cast iron pan, a pair of Chacos, mantras, well wishes and last minute hang-outs. and a collage of loved ones were with me ready to go to make my new living space feel instantly like home.  I have to admit that there were a couple boxes I found last week in my closet that had never even been unpacked.  How that works, I will never know.  But it's fitting.  There were pieces of myself that I had brought along from my past that I didn't unpack, didn't use, didn't need.  The boxes that were unpacked, the pieces of myself I did need, were used well and often and I am glad I had what I needed to succeed (mostly) while I was here.

Of course when I got here I found that there were things I didn't have and would need very quickly: pots and pans, a broom, resilience to adapt to challenging and changing situations, people who understood exactly what I was going through because without them I would have thought myself legitimately crazy, a new-to-me car, snow boots.  Now I'm packing these things up with me and hoping that they will serve me well and have a purpose in my next adventure.  Will I really need those snow boots in the coastal mountains of California?  Maybe not, but you never know.  Will I need the friendships I've made while being here to help sustain me and guide me and support me while I find my place in familiar but uncharted waters?  You bet.

There might very well be things that I have acquired here that I might not use for some time and will stay packed away for an indefinite period of time.  I don't know when in the future I'll have a need to use the hoe-dad Riley gave to me, when I'll put the tree planting skills I learned into use, when the next time I'll have to struggle to explain borrowing to a second grader, or when I might wear the cedar basket necklace an amazing Klallam language teacher gave me, but in they all go with me to California.  Just like the beer tabs from countless PBRs and "Port Angeles Pledges" Megan, Paige and I said, the many items (gems, really) Megan helped me find on "Dollar Days" at G Dub Boutique (aka "Goodwill"), the warm and cozy hat Marie gave me for Christmas, and Maise and all her accessories, all of which are enjoyed on a frequent basis and will continue to be so in California.

Parts of me were brought with me but not needed and not used here.  Some parts were kept tucked away in a box for a long time.  It will be the same in the next chapter.  I'm confident I had everything I needed when I came here, but now I'm leaving with an even more loaded arsenal, an even stronger sense of the type of community that can be built, the kinds of friendships that can be made.  When I get to La Honda I plan on taking the bare bones, the basics, basically because I won't know what structure I'll be living in, who will have what or what I might need to contribute.  I'll have enough to get by for the first week and that will be more than enough.  I know that the rest of what might make me my living more comfortable will be back in storage at my parents' house, or perhaps just a thrifting adventure away!  But you better believe that in my bag on that first trip I'll have that cast iron pan, my newest pair of trusty Chacos, a new picture collage of my housemates and I, and all that I have learned and loved tucked right in close to my heart to propel me into the next beginning.    

Moonlight Madness

Last night I went with a caravan of friends to a midnight showing of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2.  To ensure that we would get tickets to this event we decided to pre-order and make the trip to Silverdale, aka the closest civilization on the peninsula.  There's a Target there, as well as a mall, and the most exciting part: a brewery that serves food too!  We naturally hit up Silver City Brewery and Marie and I found our way to a refreshing pint while our group of 12 was waiting to be seated.  If you are ever in Silverdale and need a place to eat and/or get some pretty good beer, I'd recommend this place!  The employees were all friendly and helpful, as well as patient and accommodating.  Bonus, they list the responsibly harvested sea food and local produce and dairy products they use in their food.

We waited in line for a little over an hour, played some cards and people watched.  I was surprised how quiet the theater was during the movie, aside from some exciting portions that elicited cheers from the crowd.  Admittedly, I have not read all the books nor seen all the movies, but I still had a decent enough idea about the plot that I still could follow the story and knew who most of the characters were.  The movie was well done, and seemed to pass the test of the avid fans and followers I was with.

We left the theater at 2:20 a.m. and I was slightly surprised that I was still awake.  However as Amanda started driving us home my eyelids became heavier and I dosed off a bit.  As we crossed the Hood Canal Bridge I heard someone say, "Oh!  Look at the full moon!  It's so pretty!"  I'm a sucker for the moon, even more so if it's full, so I peeked out from half-shut sleepy eyes and, sure enough, there it was peeking back at me through the clouds and glistening off the water.  I smiled as I tucked my head back down and closed my eyes again, realizing that during my time here the moon has often shown herself and come into my life offering a silky-looking, silver shining stream for me to bask in and follow.

The first time I remember was when I was in a different car also crossing the Hood Canal Bridge late at night.  I was on my way home from a day in Seattle with the new AmeriCorps team and I opted to jump in the car of a new friend and his longtime friend to try and get myself out of my comfort zone and stay true to my goal of actively making new pals.  These guys welcomed me into their conversation on the way home and when I looked out the window and saw the moon hanging out with us as well I knew without a doubt I was in the right place and moving to Port Angeles had been the right move for me to make.

One weekend when I was on Lopez Island another full moon was in the sky. It was the middle of November, the first snow had fallen and the days were getting unrelentingly shorter and darker.  As the sun set over the bay I was looking over with a friend I realized the full moon was rising, but in a far off, distant way.  This full moon required me to stretch my gaze and heart in order to feel the magic I often take for granted when she is hanging close and nearby.  It fit perfectly for the weekend I was experiencing; to those around me it seemed that going to Lopez and tasting homemade beers and spending time with a friend would have been perfect for me.  But something felt off and I couldn't place it, just that I felt like I had to reach and grasp and search unsuccessfully for the peace and wholeness I was hoping I'd find there.  The moon was beautiful and still there guiding me, and ultimately her distance that weekend helped guide me away into better places for my heart.  Later that weekend after I was home and more snow had fallen, I was tip-toeing up the stairs in the middle of the night after getting some water, and there she was - the big, silver full moon in all her glory brightening the night and making the snow look magical.  I was back where I needed to be and she was letting me know it by coming in nice and close.

Another snow-kissed evening I was the one driving home.  Heading west on 101 the moon was situated right over the horizon line and hung big and bright.  In the moment I was filled with happiness and knew that regardless of what the future held I could be blissful in that moment.  I was back in the moon's good graces, it seemed, and she was lighting my way home and opening my heart to new kinds of friendship and joy.

The spring was long, cool, and rainy, and it seemed the moon was not around much.  There were nights, though, that I would let Maise out and I would look up and see her in various forms.  Some of my favorite nights were when she was a thin crescent, trying out the spring skies and perhaps seeing things in a new way - or maybe that just was me.

As summer has entered the picture, occasional clearer skies have allowed the moon to show up more often, sometimes even in the middle of the day!  On the 4th of July she showed half of herself while I was spending time with friends who I will not see as often as some of us are moving in a very short time.  It made me think of how while the side of me that I was showing to my friends was true and sincere, there was another side that  I was keeping to myself.  If I had shown all of myself, shared all of me that was there that day, it would have been too much for me...happiness and sadness and confusion and clarity and fear and hope all mixed together.  I was present and in the moment, as was the half moon, but it was better that we both shared only some of ourselves that day.

I have long looked to the moon and felt comfort and solace, as well as a push or a pull in life.  Maybe I am like the tides moved by the moon, sometimes full of strength and power overcoming obstacles in my way like they are nothing, sometimes receding back and exposing vulnerable pieces within that can easily be trampled if others are not cautious.  I am grateful to the moon and the light she brings into my life, bathing me in love and guidance.  I'm hoping she and I can continue our friendship in the next stages of my life as well.



   

Stuck in the Middle?

Yesterday I helped chaperon about 30 middle schoolers (and one brave elementary student) to a Mariners' game.  Within about five minutes after getting on the road I had a new-found respect for my AmeriCorps teammates who have worked with these kids this past year.  I have always had respect for all my teammates and the work they do, and it's not like these kids were the devil's spawn or Bebe's Kids (which was what my 7th grade math teacher referred to some of my classmates as).  However, it takes a special kind of person to work effectively with middle schoolers and gain their trust and "affection," especially kids who have already spent some time in juvie, had siblings, parents, and friends die, and had drugs and alcohol intertwine themselves into their lives.  The fact that multiple AmeriCorps members are going to serve a second term in order to work with these students says a lot about my teammates, but I also believe it speaks volumes about the kids they work with.  Even from just being around them for part of one day I could tell they are smart, curious, and sponges to what the world can offer them.  They're excited to have those AmeriCorps coming back to work with them, and I bet they know how lucky they are to have those AmeriCorps dedicated to them, their well-being, and future.

Yesterday also reminded me of the tumultuous nature that comes with being a middle schooler, or early high school student. There is so much going on around you: sometimes you're expected to be an adult, sometimes you're expected to be young and innocent (ha!), sometimes you want to act one way but your peers around you make you feel like that's the entirely wrong thing to be doing, sometimes you feel so at peace and connected to your peers you think your family are people that take up space and you don't really need them, sometimes all you want to do is curl up in your Mom's arms and if you're lucky like I was you had that option.  There is no denying that early childhood molds a child in deep, lasting ways.  But I would argue that all of childhood and adolescence has that same lasting effect, especially for those who might not have had the ideal support and nurturing of a stable, loving home.  As I watched the interactions between the students and the AmeriCorps members they knew and have grown to love I was reminded how vitally important it is for all of us to not only not turn our backs on struggling children and teens who may have not always made the best choices, but also to embrace them in as many ways as we are able (and they will allow), show support for them (even when they are screaming about how they're going to pee on someone's head or seemingly casually bragging about the last fight they were in), and find ways to include them in experiences like going to a big(ger) city a few hours away and going to cultural events that their everyday life might not allow.

I may very well not see any of the kids from yesterday ever again.  Although I will not have made a difference to them or even registered on their sometimes scrutinizing radar, they have made a difference in my life.  Thanks to them I was reminded and reinvigorated to pursue my quest to continue to try and figure out actions to take in order to have every child (to use the term loosely)  feel valued and cared for, as well as create opportunities for them to see parts of the world, locally and globally, that they have not seen before.

Big high fives to Julia (yep, there's another one on the AmeriCorps team!), Lola, Jack, Ahmad, and Jo for their work with these kids this year.  And a super big high five to Sam for making yesterday's trip happen! You guys are amazing!

It's the Final Countdown

The school I have worked at this year is getting naked from the inside out.  Art projects, writing samples, door decorations, and inspirational posters are getting taken down faster than you can ask "How many more days do we have?" Today, the answer to that question is: ONE MORE DAY!!!  The kids have been ready for this for weeks it seems, the sixth graders even longer.  They are done reading and practicing math facts (...come on, just practice a few more times and you'll be on your Indigo dragon!...) and really done sitting still, inside, in their chairs while the weather occasionally turns sunny.   

In my last couple of weeks working with the students I have realized how much they have grown in so many ways!  The way they now process and understand information amazes me.  I can streamline the directions or explanation I'm giving them and before I know it they have completed an assignment in a fraction of the time it would have taken just to explain the directions at the beginning of the year.  Lately my heart has been swelling with pride as I have watched my students conquer multiplication facts, "chunking out" more difficult words when reading, and, last week, sing and dance to Klallam songs at the culminating family dinner on the last day of After School Program.  I am selfishly thankful that Megan will continue working in the same school with the same kids next year so that I can still keep tabs on who's doing what and be proud of them for their continued growth and successes.  My plan is to send letters through Megan, and when my job ends next year just before Memorial Day come up and visit.  These kids were not a filler in my life these past months; they were the sustenance and I would not have survived without them.

Part of me still wants to stay here for another year.  I doubt that feeling will go away for a long time.  So much good, personal and professional, has come from this adventure to the Olympic Peninsula.  The staff at the school I was at welcomed me with open arms and always treated me as a competent person who really could teach students.  I had to earn my stripes with a lot of the kids, but it was so worth the trials I went through.  As I have gotten to know their stories more it is so easy to see why an outsider would be tested (sometimes thisclose to the breaking point), so I am lucky that some let me in to form these amazing relationships.  The smiles and hugs and successes they share with me now are priceless.  Being an AmeriCorps member in Port Angeles is something that I have always felt proud to associate myself with.  Not all community members have known what AmeriCorps is or what we members do which is not always an easy thing to describe because we wear so many different hats, often at the same time.  But, those who were already aware of who we are and what we do have always made me feel like the work that my teammates and I do on this peninsula is worth it's weight in gold.  We are well taken care of.   Megan and I are almost always getting sent home with the leftover food from a gathering.  People have lent tools for me to use at home.  A teacher graciously watched Maise when there was an overnight AmeriCorps retreat.  Many kind words and encouraging pats on the shoulder have been given from those around me, letting me know I was not alone.  

Many times this year have been tough.  I have buried my head in my hands at the end of countless days and wondered what I was going to do with these kids I work with.  There's been a lot of car trouble for me.  A long time friend disappointed me big time and the experience left me feeling emptier than I thought it should have for longer than I thought it should have.  I would not trade any of the hard times for the beauty, love, happiness and sense of self, peace, and place I have experienced while here.  I am thankful I still have a month left here and will get to try my hand at a few other "jobs," as well as spend time with the gorgeous souls I have found solace, acceptance, and laughter with.  If this is what it means to (almost) complete a term of service with AmeriCorps than I am forever thankful I had this opportunity.

Some Days You Feel Like A Nut!

It was a true Thursday at After School Program today.  According to the teachers I know, Thursdays are the craziest day of the week.  There were 18 students there today, and we wrote five referrals.  Not a good sign.  Not only were students loud and disrespectful, but they were being dangerous to themselves and others.  The interventionist from the school was there, too, and it almost seemed like it was a contest to see who could embarrass me the most in front of her.  "Oh, Julia?  Yeah, I hate her.  Let me show you how much by insulting her and not following a single direction or request of hers. "

There is one student who i seems none of us know what to do with.  This student ("Harper") does not want to attend ASP, but it is "free babysitting" for the parents.  Harper rarely follows the rules and actively riles up other students it seems to then rile the staff up.  Who knows what Harper is really thinking.  Incentives don't work with Harper, and it seems neither do consequences.  It is to the point where the staff are all ready to just start writing referrals, because after three in a week a student is suspended for three days.  Our thought process behind this?  Maybe if the parents have to figure out something else for at least three days they might help Harper get things together.

Then the guilt hits us.  Every single child that we work with has some sort of sad or "bad" history with their family, and Harper is no exception.  These children are so often products of their environments that they don't know any other way to act, or they have been conditioned to say certain things or act certain ways when they want/don't want something in particular.  Is that their fault?  Not most of the time, but does that mean that whoever is around them has to "put up" with their behavior.  Somewhere, something has to change.  But how?  And where?  And when?  And what part do I have in it?  I was having drinks with a guy a few weeks ago who told me that it's the parents' fault, and the parents need to shape up so their kids can have a better life.  I think he actually believed that was all there was to it.  Just tell the parents they have to be better.  OK.  No big deal.  Never mind the cyclical issues that surround the parents, the culture, the society we all live in.  Or the historical oppression of minority groups who literally have resources taken out of their hands.  Or, in this case, the depressed economy of the town we live in where I, as a college graduate with some good work experience under my belt, would have a difficult time finding a decent-paying job.  No, never mind all those factors that these parents are indeed facing.  How do we recognize these challenges and aspects of the culture that I am working in, while at the same time maintaining a stable, positive, supportive environment where students are respectful to themselves, their peers, and the staff?  Does anyone have a magic wand?

Megan and I were discussing this idea on the way home.  I was expressing my uneasiness at simply slapping Harper, or other "unruly" students, with referrals until they were suspended for a few days.  Does that solve the problem?  No.  Does it even address the problem?  Not really.  Will I be able to reach that student in the future?  Possibly, but I see it as doubtful.  I told Megan that I feel trapped sometimes, because I feel that the students need to learn how to treat others with respect and dignity regardless of who they are dealing with, but that so often they are not shown that respect in their everyday environments, so it's easy to see how they are then products of those environments.

And here's where Megan shows off her brilliance:  she said, "But we're part of their environments, too!"  And it's so true!  We are there everyday for these students.  I tear up at the thought of leaving them in less than four weeks.  We are part of their lives, whether they like or detest that fact, and more than just helping them figure out math equations or how to "chunk out" a word, we are there to show them that adults can be firm, yet loving; set boundaries, but share our hearts with them; discipline them, but still encourage and embrace them and all they have to offer to the world.  If I have to write referrals, so be it.  Maybe, one day, deep down inside, one of these students will know in their heart that I truly want the world for them regardless of how they perceive my actions in trying to maintain a safe sense of place for all.  And if not, at least I know it, and it seems that some days that's all I can ask for.          

Here I Go Again, On My Own

Well, not eactly on my own, but here I'll go again on another adventure...

Yesterday morning I got a phone call and was offered a Naturalist Intern position with the San Joaquin Outdoor School.  I excitedly accepted and suddenly had an extra bounce in my step for most of the day.  Getting that phone call and the accompaning offer means that I have a weight lifted off my shoulders, I can actually say I'm moving back to California with 100% certainty.  It means that I'll be closer to my family and therefore will be able to see them much more frequently than I have since I moved to Port Angeles.  That has been one of the toughest things for me since moving, so I know I will be thankful about that.  The location of the school is one that I know I will love.  Located in the Santa Cruz moutains sourrounded by redwoods and still very close to the coast I am hoping I will be one happy long-term camper.  Plus, I will be able to check out a new part of education through this position where I will lead fifth and sixth graders through their week-long field trip on hikes, tide pool explorations, finding their place within their school community, and silly songs around the campfire.  I have to admit that I am looking forward to being the fun, science camp "teacher" rather than the day in and day out disciplinarian that I feel my current students view me as so much of the time.

But those students who might view me as that disciplinarian are also the students who keep me coming back with enthusiasm everyday.  Yes, there are plenty of days where I drive home with my head in my hand, leaning against the window, either venting to Megan or almost silent on our drive home.  However, I have found meaningful connections with my kids, too.  Seeing them in the halls and hearing about their latest test or book they read or how they're going to dye their hair next shows me that I have been able to become part of their lives...and now I'm going to leave them.  Thank goodness I still have two months to spend with them. 

And it's not just my kids I'm going to miss dearly.  When I moved here I was strongly hoping that I would be able to be part of creating a new community, family almost, of the AmeriCorps teammates I would be working with.  Originally I envisioned becoming friends with all the other 37 members of the team and creating some sort of special bond with each person.  Ahhh, the hopeful promise of not yet meeting people and creating my own versions of them.  I didn't even make it out of the first day without deciding there were definitely people I would be able to work with, but would probably never be friends with.  However, there were several people I would become close with, and create my own sort of family with.  Some of us had a big, potluck Thanksgiving together.  Being cozy and feeling like I had a place there made not being with my bilogical family easier than I would have imagined.  My housemates feel like sisters I didn't even know I was missing until I met them.  Together I have had shared more laughter and good times with them than I even could have imagined.  I will always stand by my feeling that I lucked out with the two best housemates I could have asked for moving here.  We share clothes, food, bottles of wine, tears, hugs, dog stories, frustrations, yard work and most of all, laughter.  And sooner than I know I will be leaving them too.  I told Marie last night that someone else will have to drive my car away when I move because I will be crying too hard to operate a motor vehicle.  I know it wont be the last time I see them, but I will be leaving a home that I have been very, very, very happy in.  Serving in this AmeriCorps position has been, and still is, exactly where I need to be for this time in my life.   

Now I will go on to create a new community with my fellow Natusralist Interns, or at least hopefully I will.  I'm sure that when I meet my new coworkers I will find that they too have been missing from my life and I wasn't yet aware of it.  I am very excited about going to a new, yet still somewhat familar, place where I can cultivate my combined passions of education and environmental awareness and stewardship.  I'll be creating a new part of my life that I have worked hard for and will be working in a capacity that will hopefully open new doors or create new bridges that will lead me down paths to exactly where I am meant to be at that point.  

Sun-Laced Avenues

My hips have traipsed down these aisles before.  The unknown meshing with memories, dreams, and promises.  If I'm a lucky, a little sunlight and resulting warmth comes as a side dish.  The clouds and the cool temperatures continue to visit us here on the Peninsula, but my spirits are warming.  I can feel the glow of something new coming.  I am not fearful of what will happen after I'm "done" here.  Instead, I am relishing the hunt and chase of the next path that will invite me to turn down its just-wide-enough path.  When else can I savor the tumultuousness that comes with not knowing?

Someone told me I have twenty-something days of school left.  Of course, that is not me being in school, turning in papers, doing late-night reading.  Instead, it means my time left of working, urging students to turn in homework, creating enticing incentives for when they do.  It means hoping that having six students move unexpectedly in the last three weeks will be the end of good-byes until the twenty-something days of school are done.  It means sometimes putting on an act of a smile and positive attitude, and pretending I wouldn't really rather be at the Farmers Market under the freeway exchanging tokens for ripe, fragrant strawberries that here I can only dream about.

It means being able to savor all the things that are wonderful here, and that I already know I will be melancholy for come six months from now.  Relishing the new green that is sprouting everywhere.  Running into (almost literally) a friend on a walk down the trail.  Sharing conspiratory glances across a room and knowing that my new-found sister can read my face and will know the exact, right, perfect thing to say to me about the situation.  Walking down the hall and having little arms wrap around my middle, and having a smile wash over me before I even know who exactly is sharing their happiness with me at that moment.

And then I remember that this beauty will be carried with me.  Maybe I won't be experiencing it first hand, but it will be stored in my heart where I'll always have easy access to it.  Regardless of where I am, how I get there, or who I'll be around, I can unfold, shake out, and step into this happiness and uncertainty again when the need arises.

Countdown to Liftoff

Things are finally slowing down a bit.  I was tallying my hours for April, and was feeling a little worried, like I had not gotten enough hours in.  Turns out I had, it's just after having a couple consecutive months of 210 hours plus I didn't feel like I had quite pulled my weight.

I've been loving some of the "special" projects I've been involved in.  One of those things was participating in an Earth Day project, which is one of four required service projects for our team.  For those of you who know me well, I know what you're thinking: "Oh man!  Julia had to participate in an Earth Day project?  That must have been such a difficult thing for her to do!  And on a beach...even worse!"  Let me assure you though, it was awesome.  We lucked out big time regarding weather.  Blue skies, no clouds, and it was almost warm!  The first thing we did after piling out of the car was to scamper down to the beach and dig our toes into the sand.  Yes, I did wish you were there (bonus points to whoever can cite the reference...).  I also dipped my toes into the waves.  It felt good to be back in the Pacific.

The next day we got up bright and early at 5:45 am to make sure we were ready to go for the beach Clean Up event that Coast Savers was putting on.  Breaking camp was a little difficult to do with semi-frozen fingers, but the shining sun bribed me with a sunny day to come.  Two days in a row, who could be so lucky? I just got some numbers from the organizer, and over 1100 volunteers cleaned the Washington Coast and picked up 23 tons of trash!  It's a shame we, as humans, can't get out act together to make these clean ups unnecessary, but kudos to those who came out and worked for the cause of caring for our Earth.

Another activity I've been taking part in is Fiero Marine Science Center training so that I can hopefully work/volunteer there this summer after school is out.  For me, it's like being back in school without exams or homework!  The instructor is very knowledgeable and humorous, and the classroom in on the pier, so I can gaze at the water at sunset while learning about limpets and chitons and octopus and plankton and mussels and kelp.  Between the work that I do everyday, a few field trips I've been on recently, and going to this training, I'm thinking more and more about how important Environmental Eduction is and how I can make my passion into a career.  

The sun is continues to play peek-a-boo with us, but when it does not only do I soak it up (literally), but I also get to gaze at the snow capped mountains and the light reflecting off the water in the Strait.   Even though it is so incredibly beautiful, I find myself counting down the weeks until I'm able to return home to California.  Home to the Yuba, and baking on the rocks and jumping into the refreshing swimming holes and floating down the rapids while letting out exuberant yelps of joy and surprise.  Home to Oscar's burritos.  Home to the Delta Breeze on summer nights.  Home to family and friends' lives which I hope I can wiggle my way back into.  While I have this mental countdown, I want to savor the moments I have here.  Giggling in the kitchen with Marie and Megan over the long long long list of "inappropriate cheers" we come up with.  Passing by friends through the neighborhood.  Seeing my kids throughout town on the weekend and then hearing them say "IIIIIIIII saw Julia when she was walking her dog!"  Living so close to the water.  It's always a balancing act, right?

I'm excited for the rest of this week.  There's an AmeriCorps retreat where we'll get to be together in a non-meeting setting, an old friend who I haven't seen in ages is coming down, there's a very low tide at some tide pools Saturday, and I think a group of us are going Contra dancing Saturday night!  California, I hear your call, but for now I gotta live it up here!

Monkey See, Monkey Do

When I was growing up my mom told me many, many, many times that my little sister was copying me because she thought I was cool.  Turns out my sister (if that is indeed what she thought) was poorly mistaken, but my mom - as usual - hit the nail on the head.  One of the perks of working in the After School Program is that I get to be around a few sets of siblings and get to see them interact with one another.  The younger ones inevitably mimic the older ones, although it isn't always their biological siblings they are mimicking.  I find it fascinating to watch these interactions, and often find it heart-warming to see the older siblings gently encourage their younger ones or make them feel better or lead by example during the sing and dance part of the cultural instruction during ASP.

Then there are days like today where the older kids were the ring leaders and the "little ones" were the circus animals.  Judging by the noises they were making an outsider might have really thought there were exotic species mixed in with the apparently normal looking kids.  Because it's unfair and completely unrealistic to expect sixth graders to play by the same rules for aspects of the ASP as first graders, the usual group of older kids have a wider berth of what they can do without one of us adults chasing after them and threatening to call home.  These kids can, gasp, go to the bathroom with out asking, meander through the hall a bit, and as long as they stay quiet during homework and reading time it is essentially up to them if they participate in those activities.  Then there are situations like today when students who usually do not come to ASP show up and basically spread chaos through the dining hall where the ASP takes place and I wonder what a decibel meter would read.  I am not egocentric enough to hazard a real guess as to why whenever these kids show up it seems that all hell breaks loose.  Is it because they are not a part of the regular routine so they feel they need to make their presence known?  Have they come back because they need to get attention from somewhere?  Are they evil deep-down and want to drive the adults out of the program so they can feel successful in ousting their "oppressors?"  Whatever it is I wish they would just allow me the courtesy to be able to work in peace with the students who regularly show up and actually want help and are (mostly) respectful, cheerful, and agreeable in their actions.  But no, the un-regulars take the reigns and say, "Giddy up!" to their impressionable audience.

I mean, don't they realize the effect they're having on the people that are surrounding them at that moment?  Both the kids and adults?  Don't they know that by merely showing up they create a different atmosphere than the one everyone is already used to?  True, they don't reach all the kids with their new and "exciting" behavior, but the ones that do listen are hooked on every word they say and action they make.  Don't they realize they are role models whether they like it or not and that their behavior directly influences the day to day lives of these kids?  And then it hits me...

Maybe I have the ability to have the same effect on some of these students.  Sure, there are some that want nothing to do with me.  But, there are others who now will have an entire conversation with me who at the beginning of the year wouldn't even look in my direction.  There are a few who I feel I have built legitimate relationships with through hard work and dedication.  Just today I got a surprise hug from a little girl who I thought truly did not like me and I had not made a connection with.  Since the hug was at school and I didn't have any "rewards" in my vicinity I am cautiously hopeful it was actually a genuine hug.

It's easy to have a magnet on your fridge that states "Be the change you want to see in the world," but to actually live out that statement is something different.  How many times have you seen someone do something, think, "Oooooh, that was COOL!  I want to do it too!" and then proceed to try out that action?  I know that's how I've gotten involved in some of my most beloved activities and actions.  What do you want to see change in your world?  There's no better place than to start with yourself!  Before you know it, another monkey will see you and do it themselves!

Start Your Engines, Cool Your Jets

Today lawn mowers all over my neighborhood roared into action.  Mine did too, only it whirled instead of roared.  As I battled with random holes and bumps all over my lawn I was secretly wishing for a motorized way to cut the blades of grass.  It's not that I dislike the push mower we have, but sometimes I feel a little defeated by it and the tough-to-cut weeds that grow so much faster than the rest of the grass.  Imagine that, they grow like...weeds!

After unintentionally ramming my hip into the mower handle for the umpteenth time, I decided to take a momentary break and sit with Maise.  By this point she was completely wet from rolling around in the damp grass, but she was happy with the dew kisses all over her nose.  As I had been mowing I found an old tennis ball in a corner of the yard and threw that around for her for a bit, which she loved.  She hasn't quite mastered dropping the ball for me. Instead she drops herself to the ground, belly up for a rub, ball loosely held in her mouth which I can easily grab as she rights herself, eager for the next toss of the ball.  After a few throws I looked up to see a part in the clouds and, beyond that, the snow covered mountains with the sun shining on them.  Not an altogether uncommon scene here, but still beautiful.  Then I looked over and noticed new flowers blooming by the rosemary bush.  Purple and cream and small clusters on a stalk; I've never seen flowers like them before.  Because I had wandered over to check them out I was closer to the blooming Japanese Cherry Tree and all of a sudden was enveloped in the sweet fragrance of those blossoms.  They were shouting "Spring is here!  The sun is coming back after all!"  Then Maise came wagging over, nudging her smelly, wet head into my knee "reminding" me she was ready for some more attention.

After another toss of the ball, I went back to the mower and started pushing it again.  I was laughing to myself about Maise's antics and smiling at the sound of kids laughing and yelling to each other at the park one house over from mine.  If I had a motor on my mower I would have missed those sounds.  And I might have missed the parting of the clouds and the new, secret flowers, and the tree's spring time message.  Like any good 20-something, I obviously linked these thoughts to comparisons to my own life.  Had I pushed through life like I felt (sometimes still feel) I'm "supposed" to I would have missed a lot along the way.  There's a good chance I would have not applied to AmeriCorps and had this whole experience, which would have in turn kept so many joyful moments from happening in my life.  I'm sure regardless of where I would have been or what I would have been doing I would have found joyful and meaningful experiences, but I really wonder if they would have been as satisfying as these last seven months have been.

I only finished mowing 3/4 of the backyard; the cold that I've been fighting for a week brought along a bad cough which prevented me from finishing.  Maybe it'll get done tomorrow.  But for today at least my yard looks a little less like a jungle, and I was reminded to take time and revel in the beauty of the unknown flowers.

The Grass is Always Green(er)

Having my mom here last week was great.  We got to sit and just talk for long periods of time, which we haven't done since I moved here.  I have to be honest, a lot of the talking was done by me, and I am so grateful that I have the kind of mom who sits patiently and really listens to me ramble out my thoughts about anything and everything.  It's pretty cool that she doesn't judge what I say, or say "I told you so!" even if she really has, or interrupt me even when she has a really valid point about something I'm saying.  My mom is the type of listener I want to be - patient, kind, and actually listens to everything someone is saying.

My mom and Lynn preparing veggie trays

Aside from chatting away, I also was able to show my mom the life I've created here.  She came with me to the After School Program (ASP), and immediately made friends with lots of people there.  I was amazed at how she got some of the kids to work with her.  Maybe it was because she's an "elder," or was someone new, but it was really cool to see her connect with some of the kids who won't often work with me.  The next day she went to school with me and participated in my routine there.  Afterwards we were off to the Lower Elwha Potlatch were she dove right into helping with the preparation.  Then it was an evening of watching dances and listening to songs.  I had to run around a bunch to help with various things and go up with the ASP to sing a song, but it was awesome to be able to go and sit with my mom for parts of the evening.

At the beach

Friday morning I was awakened by texts asking if the tsunami was going to hit Port Angeles.  I was confused and a little frightened, but figured if the sirens weren't going off we were ok.  PA ended up getting a 2.2 foot surge, but it didn't effect anything.  Originally my mom and I were going to go out to the coast, but because there were tsunami warnings we opted to go to the un-named beach and chill there.  Maise, Mom and I had a fun time strolling around.  A bald eagle flew really close over our heads, closer than I'd ever seen one before. Thank goodness Maise is a big dog; I don't have to worry about her being dinner for any birds of prey.  The tide was low so we could walk all over the beach and I explored the uncovered rocks, hoping for some tide pool animals, but, no luck!  As it started to rain we decided to head back to the house to go have dinner with Megan and Marie.  During the rest of the time my mom was here we went to Port Townsend and then Seattle.  It was so great to have her here and be able to spend time together.

This week I spent a lot of time preparing for my final Teach For America interview.  I decided to go into Seattle the night before so I could be rested and make sure I was on time for my interview.  Leading up to Friday I felt like I had my own personal cheerleading team.  One of the teacher's I work with offered to let me use her class as guinea pigs for the lesson I had to present.  Doing so helped me feel much less nervous going into the interview.  Lots of my friends here gave me words of encouragement throughout the week, one even texted me the morning of to wish me luck!  My family was great, too.  I got a call from my grandma right before I left PA, my dad sent an awesome text the morning of, and my mom bought me lunch and talked with me afterwards which really helped me feel calm before my personal interview.  I have to say that knowing that I had so many people who offered kind words and said they thought I'd be great really helped me feel at ease when I walked into the last part of the last interview.  I was excited, not nervous; ready to represent myself and my passion for equitable education.  When it was all said and done I felt like I did my absolute best and wouldn't have said or done things differently if i could go back and do it over again.

Now I wait until April 4th to see if I will get a placement or not, but in the mean time I am researching different options for myself in the Bay Area.  I'd really like to go back to California, and the diversity it offers. I'm also realizing that while I do like my independence, I really like living close to family.  My dad and I were talking about the "grass is greener" feelings, but in the end we both voiced the idea that Northern California really is one of the more diverse places I could live.  Whether I get a full time job and go back to school to pursue my Master's in Education, or "just" go back to school I am excited to take all my growth, learning, and experiences from this venture back to California.

Time Keeps on Slippin...

I fight everyday to stay centered in the present.  There are so many things calling me, pulling me, into the future that I'm somewhat surprised when I haven't sprouted wings that enable me to time travel so that I may be satiated for just a moment.  But, that wouldn't be real life and it would take the fun out of me figuring things out on my own.  That is not to say that I feel like being in this place - mentally, emotionally, spiritually, or physically - is an easy thing to do right now, but in my opinion it is the fair, honest and honorable action.

To me, the first few months here were easy.  Well, more accurately, they were exciting.  Everything was new.  Being in a school atmosphere all day, having the mountains and the ocean in my backyard, making new friends, snow days, being able to be the most in control of shaping my life to how I saw fit that I had ever been in.  I loved getting to know the kids I work with and even the most challenging days gave me a sense of satisfaction.

Now, my routine seems to have an air of stagnation to it.  I'm still happy to be going to work, but I feel a sense of complacency creeping in.  Decisions are made that affect what I do on a daily basis without my input.  Hearing that AmeriCorps funding will potentially be cut almost takes the wind out of my sails.  If my position goes away next year, will all the work that I have done thus far be in vain?  Sure, whoever is at my site next year will still have to create their own relationships with the kids, but some of those students will (hopefully) remember that we AmeriCorps volunteers are always on their side, regardless of if we're the new one just starting out with over-eager excitement in our eyes, or if we're the volunteer who's half way through our term of service and is struggling to keep her head in the everyday game.

Recently there have been some interesting talks around some tables I've been seated at.  The AmeriCorps members that I have been around want to know that not only is our work right now worth something, but also that we are setting things up for next year so that things will run more smoothly and with the possibility of new members not having to reinvent the wheel or fight and fight and fight for the support they need.  We ask: Are we just "band-aids" to larger societal ills?  How are we actually agents of change in this society?  Do we members get more out of this through personal growth and resume boosters than our community benefits from us?  Will it matter what we do if none of our struggles are documented or suggestions headed?  In a simple word: yes.  If each of us reaches one child, or community member, then I feel we have succeeded in our job.  One may seem like a small number, but I stand by the loneliest number.

Yes, I have grown in so many countless ways in these six and a half months, but I also feel that I have done some good here.  I show what teamwork looks like.  I've helped plant 5000 trees.  I've modeled respect for people who don't always show me respect.  I've helped paint a house and beautify a yard.  I've had community members thank me for just showing up and being a presence at their event or organization.  I have managed to make connections with students who now smile and wave and work willingly on subjects they struggle with.  They deserve for me to stay present and focused and I can think of no better reason to not grow wings, but rather bloom where I have planted myself for this season. 

Fight or Flight

To say there are a lot of crucial, tide-turning events going on all over the world is an understatement. I feel like everywhere I turn there is more information on revolutions happening in the Middle East, the protests in Wisconsin and other states, and who could leave out the up-coming Royal Wedding?  Sometimes I feel overwhelmed because I feel as if I have a duty to keep up on the information coming in so that I may be an informed citizen and take action when/if needed...well, about the revolutions and protests, not so much the wedding...  How can I not care about the things that are going on right now?  Education is a topic near and dear to my heart and I am so incredibly saddened by the severe cuts that have been proposed and will be implemented shortly.  I just do not understand how taking more money away from this part of our society will help everything.  Apparently I'm not the only one as evidenced with this article, as well as this one.
I'm not the first one to say this, but by investing money into our students we can gain critical thinkers who are able to solve our most pressing challenges and issues, while at the same time saving money on what we as a society would pay for them to be in jail.  I am in no way saying that all children will end up in jail if they do not have a quality education.  However, the more access a child has to quality education, the less likely they are to commit crimes that could eventually lead to their incarceration.  Here are some stats that help back up my assertions, too.

Not only do these cuts worry me because I believe in high quality education for all students, but also because I have been working towards my goal of becoming an educator.  As a young person who has most of my own education finished and now work in a volunteer position (yes, I have a stipend, but we are technically called volunteers), I have been banking on the fact that funding for education will increase NOT decrease, and that I will have more opportunities rather than less for a teaching job.  Not only are future generations getting the shaft of getting an education that will prepare them for the real world, but my generation is also getting the short end of the stick when it comes to finding meaningful, sustainable jobs that will support us (financially) so that we may continue to use our energy to mold the world into our collective vision of a more "just, verdant, and peaceful world."  My dad sent me a book called Do It Anyway: The New Generation of Activists by Courtney E. Martin, and in the preface she writes that my generation has a permanent mindset that we must do work that will change the world in ways that are positive.  I know I feel that way.  Well, most of the time.

In my time here I have had my fair share of challenges.  I feel that I work hard employ lessons learned, academically and on-the-job, so that I can continue becoming better at my job.  Recently I had the first day at my job that I just wanted to flat out walk away and quit.  It was only for a short time, but that hour or so was intense.  For whatever reason, things just weren't working that day and the kids were not having any of it.  I felt like things we tried at the program were failing and I was unsure of why I was even there.  Rather than continuing to fight to fix or change happenings I felt ready to take flight - specifically to a warmer, cozy California that I've been missing.

But that feeling didn't really last very long.  By the time I finished walking my dog, Maise, and had the chance to inhale some fresh, crisp air I was feeling better about things.  While walking I had a chance to reflect on my own behaviors and what I could do to enhance my own experience, as well as what I could do or suggest to help the negative happenings.  I am not one to walk away from a situation because I feel frustrated, especially when I have a feeling that I can do something to make a change for the better.  My "fight" does not go away without its own fight.

For Clinks and Giggles

Last weekend my sister visited me.  If you know me at all, you pretty much know that my sister is basically my favorite person in the world.  She's funny, caring, smart, easy-going and fun, just to name a few of her many fantastic traits.  I had a great time showing her around the Peninsula and just getting to spend some time with her in general.  Here are a few of my favorite memories from her visit:

*both of us wearing almost the same outfit when I picked her up from the airport (Sierra Nevada hoodie, jeans, brown boots and a beanie)
*not being surprised we were wearing almost the same thing
*giggling about nothing in particular
*having a snowball unintentionally thrown directly into my eye when Kath was trying to "recreate" snow falling
*seeing the sun set on Mount Baker Friday afternoon, while appreciating some other "scenery" (Aydo!)
*having the sun shine for two days in a row
*cheersing various things with her, with all sorts of beverages, including fresh pressed apple cider
*"Through the good times and the shit times..."; Dorat/Bolly?
*Building a very successful fire in my backyard fire pit
*Sunday beer
*Writing post cards with an impromptu jam session spring up next to us

Today another winter storm blew in, creating a short and snowy work day for me.  In all honesty, it was fine by me.  I have been feeling a little burned out at work, although I'm not sure why.  ...it's too early for me to be getting short-timers syndrome...  For my mood today, playing in the snow with Maise and hibernating in bed reading some of the few books I have going right now suited me just fine.  Maybe it's because I didn't grow up with snow, but I am still enamored with the way it looks when it's floating softly down, and how everything is quiet and coated in a white blanket that transforms ordinary landscapes into beauty-kissed ones.  There are mini icicles hanging from porches and other overhangs that were glistening in the waning light when Maise and I were shuffling through the powder.  Knowing that there is a minimum of a two hour delay tomorrow morning, if not a full on snow day, has also lifted my sleep deprived spirits.

One of the reasons I love this landscape here...

I'm also continuing to minimally work on applications and preparations for after my AmeriCorps service is done.  Lately I've definitely been feeling the pull back towards California more than any other time here so far.  How long will it last?  I'm worried that I will miss the natural beauty that is unique to this place and that I have steadily been falling more and more in love with.  Although I always end up following the directions my heart gives me, I worry that when it's actually time for me to "give up" living up here I will find it more difficult to leave than I predict.  I am cultivating a life here that suits me well, and part of me is definitely afraid that if I go back to California, where so much is familiar and safe, my personal growth will slow and I will become restless once again.

For now though, I am doing my best to stay present in what I'm doing here, and live with intention and be authentic to myself.  Having Kath here left me feeling refreshed and validated.  I'm excited for my mom to come in a little less than two weeks and show her some of what I've done with my life here since she and my dad helped move me up from Sacramento.

Energy Lessons

In one of the fifth grade classes I work in I got to sit in on a science lesson that one of my fellow AmeriCorps was presenting.  It was awesome.  The kids loved her, hung on her every word, and she knew her stuff and was able to present the topic in a way fifth graders understood.  Energy was the topic at hand, and she described how one type of energy (light) can help a plant grow, creating another type of energy (growth), that can then turn into energy in food form for us.  In the past few days I've been wondering how I can take one kind of my own energy (frustration and anger) and turn it into another, more productive form (change-inducing actions).

I doubt that I will ever dislike the day-to-day tasks of my job.  Overall I love working with the kids that I do, and I feel great when some of my students look at me and say "Oh, now I get it!"  Because I have been somewhat successful in creating relationships with my students and some of them now trust and like me, I have recently been able to pay more attention to the underlying factors that unfortunately sustain the challenging situations my students and the region that I live in face in this culture.

My thought process goes something like this: It seems that some parents do not prioritize their children or their children's basic education.  These parents are selfish and more concerned about making sure they have the newest phone or game console.  Why does it matter so much to have these items when their child doesn't have a proper winter coat or shoes?  Our culture says that one must show off their "wealth" through consumption of disposable items - whatever form those might come in.  By eagerly consuming disposable goods the money keeps coming in to the few who benefit from it and keep those who are forking over the money sedated into a false sense of momentary complacency because they have the sickest new gadget that does ten million tasks.  What's lacking in all of this?  In my mind it's a lack (or complete absence) of meaningful human connections and relationships.

So there are the societal pressures that create (?) selfish people who then procreate and then pass off their bad habits to their children because they are leading by example.  Then, today I read yet another article about how there are multiple proposals on how to "fix" the country's problems by cutting funding from programs that are proven to work and support multiple layers of our society.  I've read lots of these articles and cringe with every one, but this time it was personal: all AmeriCorps funding is slated to be gone.  Taken away.  As in, the way I read it, no more AmeriCorps.  Granted, this would not directly effect me because my term of service (and funding) is secure.  But what about next year and the year after and the year after?  I read that one supporter of this idea said that these cuts would help restore American's faith in the economy and help get people back to work.  Mr. Senator, let's have a real discussion about this.  Why don't you come talk with me about how my funding isn't really that important, and the work that I and all my other AmeriCorps mates are doing isn't worth the paltry stipend we receive to create real and lasting positive change in our communities.  With so many of my generation out of work with great skill sets who are ready and willing to work in positions like AmeriCorps offers I just CAN NOT understand how cutting this program will benefit not only our economy but the overall quality of life in our country.  I have heard countless people in Port Angeles comment on how they love the AmeriCops here and how much of an asset we are to the community.  I imagine wherever there are AmeriCorps members, their community members are echoing what I have heard.  How are we supposed to cultivate important relationships with one another and learn from each other and grow with each other and make the world a truly better place if there are not opportunities for people to work in capacities such as AmeriCoprs positions?  The cynic in me thinks maybe that's the point.  If we're all mice running on the wheel trying to get the new phone, etc, we won't bother to look around and see where we are and who's around us and what we're missing.  Mindless consumers don't need critical thinking skills or advanced math knowledge or, really for that matter, how to read anything more than a how-to manual to follow directions at work.

I do not accept this, though.  I never will.  There is so much more to life that accumulating things that will just break in a short matter of time.  I will work to change things, and I believe that I am not the only one.  All over the world things are changing.  People are finding their commonalities and embracing their differences and uniting to make their dreams reality.  My anger and frustration energy will find a conductor path to join into so that it may change form and become lasting change.

Digging In

Yesterday was the first of two weekends of helping with a Plant-a-Thon where 5000 native trees and shrubs are planted to help restore prime salmon habitat.  It felt amazing to be out in the mud and fresh air and drizzle.  At the beginning of the day I felt kind of lost and unsure of what I was doing.  Many of the people on my crew knew one another from their schools, and also knew about the trees and shrubs we were planting and where they should be planted.  I had to remind myself that I am here, in Washington, to learn things and grow and push myself in new areas that I might not always be comfortable in.

Within a little while of scooping and digging mud and getting the trees and shrubs Tim, one of my co-team leaders, was laying out in the best spots for them, I felt like I was getting in the groove of things.  The high school guys who I was on a team with made feel included and made it easy for me to chime in on their conversation about "winning the game" and "losing the game" (...and now I just lost the game, for those of you who who play...) and zombies and the salmon habitat we were helping restore.  Another co-team leader, Lauren, is from California, too, and we compared notes about what we miss about that landscape and what we love about this one.  After digging the first few holes, I felt like I had a handle on controlling my shovel, and realized I wasn't the only one with fist sized rocks in the soil I was trying to scoop out.  By the end of the day I decided I was at least competent in creating holes deep enough for the trees roots and getting the plant protectors around the planted trees and shrubs.

While I had a great time just planting and being covered in mud, I thought about the other meanings that these plantings have.  One is that we are hopefully restoring a habitat that has a multitude of beneficial effects for the environment.  Much of the area around Tarboo Creek was cleared for farming at the beginning of the last century.  This altered the habitat that the salmon were used to, creating adaptation "problems" for them.  It's my understanding that these salmon reproduce every four years, so if in that time period their habitat has changed a great deal then their chances for a hearty survival are diminished.  Parts of the creek were also channelized in order to aid in farming the area, which further exacerbated the issues salmon were facing.  Now, these changes did not just cause issues for the salmon, but also for the area at large.  More sediment was washed out into the bay, which then created more issues, and it goes on and on down the domino-effect chain.  The night before I went out to plant I read an article about large swaths of the Amazon Rainforest  dying from an extreme drought in 2010, and how this may cause copious amounts of carbon to be released into the atmosphere.  The Amazon has been thought to be a carbon sink, but now because of the drought and dead trees decaying could instead be a carbon emitter.  As I was planting some of the 1500 trees and shrubs yesterday I thought about how maybe these baby trees can help sequester some carbon and improve to the atmosphere overall, not "just" help the salmon population.

The other part of the Plant-a-Thon, perhaps my favorite part, is that every tree and shrub is planted in honor of someone.  I'm not sure how all that is organized, or how one goes about sponsoring a tree or shrub in someone's name, but I am in love with the idea.  Although I didn't officially dedicate a planting to someone, while I was planting I thought about my loved ones who work hard to make the world a better place for all Her inhabitants.  "This tree is for Lani, my Earth Goddess love, who radiates sunshine through the blackest clouds and believes in love and beauty and equity for every being in the universe."  "This tree is for Aunt Ann, whose wisdom and love work inspires me to continue working even in the apparent face of defeat."  "This is for Mom, whose kind and loving words and actions towards all raised me to try and emulate the same."  The list goes on...

...and this tree is for you!  <3

Starry Night

I feel like I've been making strides into what some might call "adulthood."  I've been trying to evade this from happening, and have considered becoming a Lost Boy in Neverland so I wouldn't have to grow up and accept the increasing responsibilities that I feel come with being an Adult.  Little steps I've taken; paying rent, getting a full time job (although "job" is a loose term for what I'm doing, especially because I love it so much), shopping for food that nourishes and sustains me.  But now I feel the time is coming for me to take leaps forward into creating a long term life that I will continue to be in love with.

One of the smaller steps I recently took was to start applying to programs for after I'm done with my AmeriCorps service term.  Well, to be more precise, I've been looking at programs and only applied to one.  However, the one I did apply for (Teach For America ) has been promising thus far.  Last year I applied and was promptly given the "Thanks, but no thanks."  This time around I really took the time to spruce up my resume to meet their preferred style, and worked hard to have my letter of intent reflect my dedication to making the achievement gap in education disappear.  When I got the email telling me that I was invited for a phone interview I was pleased to see that my bit of hard work had paid off.  In the writing exercise and phone interview, I did my best, but was true to myself and was candid in my responses.  While I was proud of myself for not sounding too rehearsed, I did not feel like I was what they were looking for.  So today, when I got the next go-ahead email (even though it's in no way, shape, or form even near being selected in the end), I felt even more proud of myself for going after something I really thought was out of my reach.  Of course now I am starting to think about where I might be placed if I am accepted and all the different placement regions I would go if offered a placement.  There is so much of this country I haven't seen, let alone lived in.  Exciting potentials for now!

The bigger step into adult-hood and more responsibility I took recently was adopting a dog.  Maise is a 5 year old female Golden Retriever.  She came from a home that didn't have enough time for her (and that was hoping to breed her with their purebred Golden male, but that never came to fruition...).  So now I have a furry child who needs her shots and to be spayed, but other than that is ready to go for adventures in her new home.  She is so lovable!  She is currently laying at my feet with a general chill-ness exuding from her.  In the mornings when I turn on my bedside lamp she immediately trots over, puts her face next to mine and wags her tail.  Having her will require me to get out and walk more, which is good in so many ways for me.  While she has enough energy to jump into the car and keep up with my fast-paced walking, she is calm as soon as we get into the house.  It seems that she is the perfect first dog for me to have.

One last way I feel myself growing.  I feel like I am able to speak with conviction, respect, and determination is ways that have previously eluded me.  I'm finding this new capability in all areas of life - speaking to my kids at school, my co-workers, a person or two who has done me wrong in recent days...  It seems to me that I am finally able to get my message across while staying true to myself and treating the recipient of my words how I would want to be treated.

Tonight as I was walking along with Maise, I realized the grey clouds of the day had rolled out and I was looking at a fairly clear starry night sky.  In California (where I lived at least), the stars were almost never as clear as they are here when the clouds part.  Tonight I gave thanks for the clear skies and the clear-headedness I've felt as of late.  I've always been one to take baby steps into new things in my life, and it seems that becoming an Adult (whatever that term may mean) will be no different.

Little Voices in My Head

I know I definitely need my weekend days to recharge.  I take time in my room, or at my house, or around the greater Pacific Northwest area to recharge my batteries.  If I was around 30 kids for 10 hours a day, seven days a week I would never be able to have enough energy to be able to give them the attention, patience and love they deserve.  I was driving home today after an afternoon out and about, thinking about how relaxed I am, how nice it was to have yesterday afternoon curled in bed napping and reading.

And then, one of my kids' voices popped into my head.  Even though so many kids this week at work had meltdowns and were just generally grumpy about being there, I actually had a good number of students tell me they wished homework club was on Fridays and "maybe even one of the weekend days, too."  It makes me wonder about what it is at home that they don't necessarily want to be around for a weekend.  Is it worse than "being tortured" by us asking them to do their homework and follow the keep-your-hands-to-yourself rules at Homework Club?  My hope is that they may simply be bored at home and may not have much stimulation or support from their parents/guardians.  Not having those things is bad, but it's better than some of the other scenarios that I try to push from mind.

With each frustrating day that I spend with those kids I know it's just going to get harder to leave this place.

Domino Effect

I should have known something was up when the clouds started rolling in this morning after having more than a week of cold but beautifully clear blue sky days.  Instead, I was happy to not have to scrape layers of ice off every window of my car.  I should also state that the first class I work in everyday is possibly my favorite to be in.  The teacher makes me feel like part of the classroom, makes sure to include me in whatever classroom conversation is happening and also has made an attempt to get to know me as a person.  Not sure if it's from her lead, but the students in that class also are friendly to me both while I'm in the classroom or when they see me other places around the school.  I wish I could work more than 20 minutes in that room.  I am lucky to be able to start my day on that kind of a good note.

Today was one of those days where I don't know whether to laugh or cry, and thankfully ended up laughing a little hysterically towards the end.  I was ready and waiting for meltdowns yesterday.  It was the first day of school after two weeks of winter break, and although I was ready to be back I wasn't sure how elementary aged  kids were feeling about coming back.  Yesterday was smooth sailing.  On all accounts the kids were cheerful and happy and willing to cooperate, both at school and the after-school program.  It was a different story today. Kids were whining about everyday school tasks and it was like pulling teeth just to get some of them to read to me for a few minutes.  Okay, this I can easily handle.  Many times i will either have a "bad" day at school but then when I get to the after-school program it usually balances out.  Sooooooooo not the case today.

The after-school program was like melt down central today.  I had at least six kids in tears at one point or another; usually we just average one or two.  A few kids told me that being at homework club was like being tortured.  A few others told me they were CERTAIN I didn't care about them or their well-being.  They said I didn't care if they did well in school or not, or what happened to them "in life."  Of course this is the exact opposite of how I feel about them.  But how do I convince a crying eight year old who has never known an adult to be true to their word that I really care about them more than they can imagine?  Then there is the fourth grader who said in response to a few different questions I asked him "OK, I'll just go kill myself then."  This causes me more anguish because I don't know the best, or right, way to respond to this.  I'll go check in with the school counselor tomorrow.  It makes me sad than such a young child has these ideas though.

As usual, my supervisor saved the day, although today it was quite unintentional.  As we were dropping off the last student we got stuck in the mud driveway of that student's house.  After some tame choice words that she was apologizing for which made me giggle, my ever fearless supervisor hopped out of the driver's seat, told me to hop in it, and to give the van some gas as she pushed it.  I didn't think twice about gunning it until I could hear the tires slipping in the mud and had a sudden vision of her getting some mud on her.  "Some mud" is an understatement.  After successfully becoming unstuck, my supervisor hopped back in COVERED in mud.  She was laughing heartily, which promptly wiped the shocked look off my face and got me to start laughing.  She wasn't phased with having mud all over her, so I kind of thought about how maybe I shouldn't be phased by all the accusations and tears that I had been covered in today.  After talking with her, and then Megan on the way home, I felt better about what had happened and how things went down today.

I know that not everyday will be this frustrating.  I'll have a multitude of days that will make me want to stay here forever.  But today I want to curl up, pull the covers over my head and turn the lights off on this day.

In the Middle of a Life

The title of this blog entry was also the title for the sermon I went to today at the Port Townsend Unitarian Universalist Church.  if you get the chance, I would recommend visiting this church, especially on a sunny day.  The mix of sun and wood and warmth was a comforting atmosphere for me today.  As I sat in the sun-filled sanctuary and listened to the readings that fit so beautifully into the sermon I was filled with a peace that I had been wishing for for the past few weeks.  Rev. Bode spoke about making room to learn from the past, live in the moment, and prepare for the future all while gaining meaning from the life you are creating.  At this point in my life I am struggling to find a balance of learning from the past and "planning" out a future while I am enjoying so much of the life I am immersed in right now.

Three poems were used as readings during the sermon.  The first, entitled "The Man in the Yard" by Howard Nelson, and was about a regret a man had that was over a simple un-taken action, but one that he frequently dwelled on.  I know I have these thoughts, too.  What would have happened had I stayed on the path I was so in love with a few years ago?  A few years is a long time, but that was the last time I had any real semblance of what I was going to "do with my life."  I have learned a great deal from the choices I have made and in the long run do not regret the big things.  However, there are the small things, encounters and exchanges with people, things said, thoughtless actions taken, that are those things included in the "If I could change a few things from my past" list.

And then there are the moments I feel lost as to what my next steps will be.  In this job I am lucky in that I know pretty well what I'll be doing from now until July, but after that things are up in the air at this point.  I catch myself listing some of the possibilities in my head all the time: stay for another year of AmeriCorps; apply, get accepted, and go to grad school somewhere; try out a different type of job; get TESOL certified and go teach English somewhere on this great big earth; move to Chicago with Kath; ???.  So then I follow up on some of these ideas.  Search idealist.org to see what jobs have been listed recently.  Download and start applications to different schools.  When I get too caught up in these thoughts, though, I miss what's going on in front of me.  No surprise.  In the second poem, "A Maxim" by Carl Dennis, the author writes of planning for the future and living life like this is your last day, but not so much that the delights and delightful people in everyday life get ignored or pushed to the wayside.  Like looking up on my walk today and seeing this:

Mount Baker from Fort Worden State Park

So if looking back into the past and thinking about what you could have done differently AND looking ahead to the future both yield lacking results, what is a person to do?  More specifically in my ego-centric atmosphere, what am I to do?  Do I hop back and forth, from past memories to future dreams, and hope that in between those hops I see and experience some of what's going on right now?  According to Barbara Cooker, quite simply, yes.  In the poem "In the Middle" she writes:

...Time is always ahead of us, running down the beach, urging

us on faster, faster, but sometimes we take off our watches,

sometimes we lie in the hammock, caught between the mesh

of rope and the net of stars, suspended, tangled up

in love, running out of time.

So I guess I do the best I can.  Find those moments I can spend in the hammock, acknowledging the beauty around me, while also fully aware of incorporating lessons learned and future plans that occupy the mind.  Try to hop back and forth less and swing in the hammock more.  I felt like a normal being after hearing that so many others struggle with this same past, present, future conundrum.  We're all in this boat together, literally, so let's make the best of our time and do our best to learn from our mistakes so we can become better people for each other.  So that we find ways to avoid hurting people as we have done in the past, so that we can make a difference in our worlds right now, and so that we may be proud of  who we will be in the future.