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.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, May 2, 2011
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!
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.
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!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
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!
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!
Saturday, March 26, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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| My mom and Lynn preparing veggie trays |
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| At the beach |
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.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
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.
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.
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