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.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, July 22, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, July 15, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
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!
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!
Monday, June 20, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
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.
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.
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