my life is in a constant state of change

 

Transitions are hard.  Transitions challenge us.  Transitions take time.  Transitions can be exciting but are usually just plain scary.  Ok let’s be honest, transitions kind of suck.  I’m at the stage in my life where there are a lot of transitions.   I’m constantly moving, learning, evolving, shifting, growing. . .  There are a thousand places I would love to be, a thousand things I would love to be doing, and a thousand people I love and would love to be with.  The only way to make it from one of these things to another is through transition, but I hate transition. Just ask my family.  Whenever I undergo big life changes the transition monster comes out. I turn into this mean, preoccupied, selfish, scared so I’m going to take it out on anyone who will listen kind of person.  The same thing happened when I left Immokalee less than two months ago.  I’ve been through transition so many times you would think that I would have the foresight to know that everything works out in the end.  In fact, in looking back it is those times of transition that have really helped to form who I am, but every time I take it hard.  I cried when I left Immokalee.  I sat in my new apartment in Cincinnati and wished over and over again that I was back in the house on New Market Rd. eating a home cooked meal with my housemates/family and laughing about our day.  I was so focused on what had been that I couldn’t focus on what was coming. 

If you had asked me how I felt before I left Immokalee you would have gotten various answers based on the day.  One day I might have said that I was completely ready to move on.  Another day I would have told you that I wasn’t ready but I knew there was something else to move on to.  Another day I would have said I was not ready to leave at all and that I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.  I was a train wreck of emotions with no triage team to help me sort it out.  A journal entry of mine from mid-June pretty much sums up my sentiments about change:

I’m always moving about.  It’s almost like I crave that sense of change.  The excitement of the unknown—not knowing exactly what is next—the fear of the unknown—not ever being entirely sure of anything.  I love change.  I hate change.  I crave transition.  I avoid transition.  I am in a state of translation.  Translating myself.  Figuring myself out.  I embrace the title of nomad that my friends have so lovingly bestowed upon me.

So how about transitioning from volunteer life to a paying job complete with bills and living on my own?  I’d say I’m doing pretty well these days.  I’m busy and life is crazy hectic but I do believe I have made it past the official transition phase and my transition monster has been successfully tucked away into his cave until at least my next big change.  In fact, I wrote this just a few weeks ago. 

I was listening to music in my car today on my way to and from work.  I just can’t help but smile when certain songs come on.  I wasn’t even frustrated when I had to drive through the parking garage.  Then it was storming on my drive home.  Again, I didn’t mind.  I was just smiling—turning the radio up so loud that the music pulsed out of the speakers and flowed into my soul and back out to my fingers and toes—and singing, always singing.  I was at a stop sign.  I saw people waiting for the bus.  I saw people running across the street in the rain, and I fell in love with Cincinnati.  Then I had to run through the rain to get to the post office and I fell in love again.  I don’t know if I’ll be here long term.  I don’t think I will.  And I don’t know if I’ll be a sports PT long term.  I don’t think I will.  But today I had the calming sense that this was a good place for me right now. 

So thanks to the rain and some really great people I have met here, I have found a place for myself here in Cincinnati—even if it is just for awhile.  I will continue to transition long after my time as a “volunteer” but I will never lose all that I gained over the past year.  My time as una voluntaria is one transition I’m glad I stuck around for.

Peace Out

Love,

Babs

They sell these bumper stickers in the city.  I'm not sure if I'm ready to plaster one to the back of my jeep but maybe one day.

Until then I always have this option.

Life After Volunteer Service

The transition into graduate school and out of volunteer service has been quite a whirlwind. It has been exactly a month and a half and I still can’t believe the year is over. The end of the year was a bit chaotic- work on a Friday, packing on a Saturday, and moving on a Sunday, and school on a Monday.  I was a bit skeptical moving back to John Carroll, but after a month and a half everything has been coming together. I completed two classes and believe I have many experiences that I am able to contribute to class conversation relating to education. Not only that, but I am able to give perspective on urban education. I feel better prepared to enter into a career in school psychology than I would have a year ago.

Minus some typical stressors I have to say that I’ve embracing being a student again. I happily got my highlighters, coffee mugs, and notebooks ready for school the night before classes. My first day of class I had to contain my excitement when I realized that I could pick ANY TOPIC I WANTED for my papers, relating to education and psychology of course. I soon realized I  had to give myself a time limit for how long I would allow myself to research, find, and take notes on articles. I wanted to read them all!  I’m pretty sure that excitement will wear off a bit within the next three years, but I feel very blessed to have found a program that I believe it a good fit for me.

I’m now in Pittsburgh taking some time to process everything that has happened this year. I have to say I still have a hard time articulating to friends and family how much this year has meant to me, but am very happy to try to explain my experience.  When I think about the year many fond memories go through my mind from Harvest Day at Villa Maria, open house with Ellen, the sisters, and other volunteer alums at the Cleveland House, MANY memories with my roommates, memories of my students, teachers, friends, the Jesuit Volunteers. All of these thoughts bring a smile to my face.

While the year of service is over, I think I’m now starting to understand how all the past volunteers are a part of the Humility of Mary family. During the volunteer Missioning mass at Villa Maria we were told we were going to be considered part of Humility of Mary for life. I remember immediately thinking to myself, “I’m part of this for life”? I didn’t remember signing up for that! Almost a year later, I have much more clarity as to what this actually means and the thought it very comforting. I feel very lucky to have been given such an amazing year to learn and grow. And to you future volunteers, welcome! I feel confident that you will have an amazing year. :) 

Love, 

Tina

Rain - Sweet Rain

Friends
My last blog of the 2011-12 HMVS year.  I am not sure how many of you are still connected and reading our Blog.  For those of you who have gone on to law school, graduate school and employment you will be missed.  For those who will be returning for another year of Making A Difference I look forward to being with you.

We have all been affected in some way by the drought - long hot days of humid weather, power outages and dry land.  In Ohio and Pennsylvania the crops are slow to grow, flowers wilt and folks are grouchy.  The Villa also known as The Farm has been hard hit - we closed the produce market for three days this week and cancelled the CSA during the 4th of July week.  In addition to the heat and lack of rain, the critters have made a meal out of much of the produce.  It hasn't been fun, in fact it has been hard work but we continue to show up each day and pray for rain.

Our customers have been great, truly understanding that Mother Nature is control.  The shares have been short at times and maybe not the quality we wish for but our farm friends pick up their basket, thanking us for providing them with naturally grown and local produce.  It gives us great pleasure to see the smiles when we provide a hand-picked flower share.

Today rain came - TWICE!!  It is now 70 degrees and low humidity instead of 99 degrees and sweltering.  The flowers are standing a bit taller and people are breathing a bit easier.  I can't wait to see the difference it made in the fields.  In my time at The Farm I have come to understand it is all about balance - part rain, part sun, good farming practices, hard work and prayer.

I've included a photo of my backyard garden - St. Francis stands watch over some cone flowers, a bit tattered from the rain and wind.   With a bit of sunshine they will be standing tall tomorrow.

To each of you - I say thank you for the energy and committment you made to HMVS.

blessings
beth

My year as a volunteer

So I initially started this blog by trying to put into words my overall recap. I don't feel that I can even begin to articulate what the year has meant to me in words. Instead, I'm going to provide you with some pictures. A picture says 1,000 words!  As I begin graduate school and transition out of the program I  find  I  am at a loss for words to put into words my thoughts and feelings. I am so grateful that I spent the year as a HM volunteer. Please enjoy :) 

JP and the ladies. He did great :) 

I remember going to JCU with Sam all the way back in 2009. Little did I know that she would be my future roommate!

This is a picture from missioning my first week at Saint Martin de Porres High School with all new staff. 

Villa Montessori. Those little ones kept me busy :)

I starting my year off with goals and trying to find balance. This was the same day as Harvest Day at Villa!

When I was first in the classroom I tried the lecture approach.  My OGT class was not having any boring lectures from me.  I learned.

Data, data, and more data collection and campus ministry were two of my other jobs at school. 

This was one of my main cooking duties. What a hard life for me!

Beautiful sunsets at the various parks!

This little guy kept me busy on the weekends. 

Are you sure that you want me to tutor Math!?!? Math!?!?! Here is my friend Angela, Algebra 1 teacher for freshman. She smiles in the middle of the creation that we both made early in the morning to prepare for a day of Math class.

I hope that these pictures help you to get a sneak peak into my year!!

Love, 

Tina

teaching learning growing connecting

Today was one of those big picture days that connects all the little details.   I was sitting at the playground during my students’ recess with the other teachers and tutors from second grade.  Some of the kids who aren’t as crazy about running around in the 100 degree heat were hanging around us as we chatted.

“What’s the best place you’ve ever been?”  a little girl from the other class asked the college tutor from her own class.  The same girl asked me this question the day before.

“Washington, D.C.,” replied the tutor, who, minutes before, shared with me that he had left Haiti only six or seven years ago.

“My sister lived there,” I told him.  “So I’ve been a few times.  I have also been there for protests,” I said.

“Protests against what?” the tutor asked. 

“Oh, you know, against the war and things like that,” I said.

“The war in Afghanistan?” he asked.

“Yeah, and Iraq.”

“But they attacked us on 9/11.  What would you have done?”

“I honestly don’t know what I would have done if I were in the position to have to make a decision about it.  What I wouldn’t have done, though, is respond to violence with violence.”  I looked around at the kids playing on the playground.  “I mean, we teach these kids not to hit a classmate back if he hits him first.  Why is it any better to do on a large-scale, political level?” 

“But that’s what the military does.  It protects its borders,” he replied.

“Well, you might think I’m a little bit out there, but I actually don’t believe in militaries.  Or borders.”

“But the military does good things.  They stabilize other countries when they can’t do it themselves.  They give aid to those in need,” the tutor argued.

“If the United States hadn’t put them in these positions though, they wouldn’t need the aid. The United States has robbed these countries of their own resources.”

“Yeah, they took all the gold from Haiti.”

“Exactly. Just because they are greedy.  No wonder even our second graders steal things from each other.  It’s what they see.  Who can blame them?”

“So does this have to do with your work at the Coalition?” the other teacher, who knows the other place I work, chimed in very timely. 

“Well, we work for the dignity of the farmworker.  We want their hard work to be recognized with fair pay.  Then instead of relying on charity, they could provide for themselves.  The multibillion dollar grocery stores can give whatever percentage of their profits away to the poor, but remains a position of power, in which they control the industry—keeping those at the bottom reliant on them for their handouts.  It’s the same thing the United States does to the rest of the world.”

The teachers and tutors were all attentively listening at this point.  I looked around at my kids.

“And that’s why I’m here,” I said, things suddenly becoming clearer after using the examples of what we teach our kids.  I looked at my watch.  Second grade would be ten minutes late for lunch due to our conversation, but the engaged audience and connections I made for myself was well worth it. 

In solidarity.

Julie

Redecorating

So, anyone living in a rented home knows that there are one or two things you don't love. I think the number one curse of rented-living is wallpaper. Wall paper is always a very personal choice. Whatever you love, the next person is bound to find awful. Below is example one. (Mind you this is far from the most awful wall paper in our house.) 

It's feminine in a way that screams "tea room." I can't look at this room without thinking it should be covered in teapots and decorative ceramic plates with kittens on them. 

Here's a close up. The little details around the flower are gold. 

So, taking a cue from Immokalee house and my own dislove of this room, I started to redecorate. Of course the design in my head was way better than the final execution but when it's all said and done it turned out all right. On the two main walls there's denim blue fabric with a celestial pattern. ( It's darker than it looks in this photo and the wrinkles have since been smoothed out). I dyed white fabric with good old RIT dye. Then I used a spray bottle with a low concentration bleach solution to make the shooting stars. (The wallpaper underneath was vinyl. You definitely wouldn't want to bleach over classic paper wallpaper.)

I made a sunburst!

Then I covered the contrasting walls with slightly aged trade paper back book pages. 

This is the best light switch cover ever. 

I wish I could put up a panoramic shot of what the room looks like, but it's pretty cool. And the whole room smells like linen and books. I wish I'd done this *months* ago, but hopefully one of next years volunteers will love it. 

and then the Teacher became the Student

a portrait one of my students drew of "Miss Barbara"

I have had a lot of opportunities to teach this past year.  Miss Barbara stood in the classroom and taught 20 kindergarteners in the afterschool program (she also has 17 more for the first few weeks of summer!).  Babs stepped onto the basketball court and taught some friends the basics of the game.  Barbara sat at a kitchen table with Salma working on conversational English.  B was in the kitchen of the volunteer house showing friends how to make a pumpkin roll. 

So while I have spent much of my time teaching, I have to admit that I do not know everything and I do not have all the answers.  In many cases, there are some things I wish I had known sooner.  The following comes from two of my journal entries this year. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was my last lesson with Salma.  I didn’t think that it would be so hard to say good-bye.  I loved the part of our lessons at the end when we were done with the lesson plan and we just talked.  Well, she did most of the talking. . .in Spanish.  I just listened. Today she thanked me for being a good teacher and for having a lot of patience with her.   She told me about a teacher she’s had that was not patient or even kind.  She was uncomfortable in class and was scared to say anything for fear of giving the wrong answer.  I’m so glad I didn’t make her feel like that.  Then she talked about her family—how her parents and most of her brothers are still in Mexico.  She told me that she knows she’s poor here, but that they are even poorer back in Mexico.  She told me that it’s hard here but she has to keep fighting for her family.  It’s better for her kids here.  She’s so much stronger than I gave her credit for.  Then she said something that I will never forget.  She said that she really enjoyed our time together because it was 1 to 2 hours out of the week when she could focus on something else and not think about how hard her life is. 

Whoa. . .1 to 2 hours of respite is all you get in a week.  1 to 2 hours of peace in your mind.  1 to 2 hours of calm from the incessant barrage of thoughts infiltrating your mind and overtaking your very being.  1 to 2 hours, and I was that for you.  I wish I had given you more.  If I had known that I would have given you all of my free time—every last second.  The things I do in my life are not nearly as important as giving you that haven.  I had no idea that’s the kind of impact my second rate English lessons had on you.  It was so much more than just a class.  Why didn’t I see that sooner?  Thank you Salma for your time and patience with me as a teacher and for all of the lessons you taught me.  No human interaction is worthless.  Hold on to that.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I saw Jose with his mom today.  He was walking slow like he usually does—looking around, dawdling, just being 5 years old.  She was behind him, nails done, designer sunglasses on, pushing him.  Using a disgusted tone of voice to say to him, “can’t you move any faster?”  Talking to him like he’s not even a person.  Talking to him like what she says to him and how she treats him won’t affect him and his sense of self worth for the rest of his life.  And pushing him like he was some shopping cart with a broken wheel that makes it impossible to steer straight.  You know, that shopping cart that you are annoyed with and you take some physical frustration out on it—and God forbid if it’s also one of the squeaky ones.  But he’s not some inanimate object.  You can’t put him back in the cart return and hope that you get a better selection next time.  He’s a person.  He’s a child.  He’s your son and you are not doing him any justice or giving him the love he needs.   

I saw Jose and his mom get into a big, shiny, black Escalade and drive away.  They have money.  They don’t need a free summer camp—but Jose needs us.  He needs patience and guidance and love from us.  Maybe this is easy for me to say because he’s not in my class for summer camp.  It’s hard to manage a student like him when you have a full classroom.  I wish I had known how his mom treats him.  I didn’t ask for him to be removed from my afterschool class, but I was happy when he was.  He was so hard to deal with—but can we blame him?  He gets no reinforcement of rules at home.  Instead of affection and guidance he gets stuff. . .lots of stuff to appease him so he won’t make a fuss.  No wonder he thinks throwing fits will get him what he wants.  I used to just get annoyed with him.  Now I know why he needed so much patience and why he craved so much affection.  It just goes to show that everyone has a story and maybe we would be better equipped to deal with people if we took the time to listen to their life songs.  Hold on to that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I firmly believe that I have received more knowledge through my experiences as a teacher than I have passed on.  Without even knowing it, the tables were turned on me and I became the student.

Miss Barbara roamed the hallways of the school and learned what it means to walk with bubbles and ducktails.  Babs took the soccer field and learned how to properly kick a futbol (it’s still a process).  Barbara stood in Salma’s front yard and learned how to tell if a papaya is ripe or not.  B sat at the counter learning how to make the best stir fry ever (Julie will always be better than me at this). 

These are just the simple everyday lessons.  I also gained invaluable life knowledge that I don’t want to ever let go of.  Such as, “No human interaction is worthless,” and “Everyone has a story. . .take the time to listen.”   And so while I wish I had known some of these things sooner, I am grateful that I have had the grace and opportunity to learn them. 

Hold on to that.

Peace Out

Love,

Babs

p.s. As per usual the names have been changed.  I also apologize for any horrible grammar or misuse of punctuation in my journal entries.  Y'all just got to experience some classic Babs stream of consciousness :)

The last days of Cleveland Community

Tomorrow JP goes off for a 3 day white water rafting trip, Sunday Tina moves onto grad school So the past couple of days we've taken advantage of being together by spending lots of time at the local parks drinking in a beautiful sunset. 

Tina flying a kite. 

We saw this leaving the store. I LOLed.

~Jennifer

Why do you serve?

As an individual working in a school I am surrounded by many amazing teachers who I hold in high regard. I have been reflecting on all the dedicated teachers that have played a vital part in my life inside and outside of the classroom. These teachers exemplify many traits- patience, charisma, intelligence, and humor. The list goes on. My admiration for teachers has exponentially increased this year.

 As I look around me at school I am so incredibly inspired by many people. I have also been thinking more about others in my life that I have considered to be great teachers. Some of these people are students, strangers, fellow employees, peers, and workers from the cafeteria at my college. The one teacher that can't be matched is my brother Christopher. He continues to challenge me, make me think, and teach me. He lives his life to the fullest everyday.

What does happiness look like? 

What does love look like?

My brother Christopher is twenty-one. He has a developmental condition called Cerebellar hypoplasia. His cerebellum never completely developed and as a result he has never walked. He also experiences delays in his cognitive, emotional, physical, intellectual, and motor development. He is SO happy on pretty much everyday! He is easily content. Give him his comfy chair, a slice of pizza, and a Backstreet Boys CD and he is going to have the best day you have ever seen. 

Growing up with a brother who has special needs changes your whole life. It changes how long it will take to get in the car, the number of doctor appointments and specialist visits you will go to, how you will spend your weekends, and for me all of my interests. I truthfully think Christopher is the first person who inspired me to make service a central part of my life. He is the reason I first started my volunteer work with children who have special needs. Because of him my high school and college service was mostly oriented around working with children who have disabilities. My brother has helped solidify my interests in disabilities, education, and school psychology. 

 During my year of service at Saint Martins I have gravitated towards the students with learning disabilities. I have been able to connect with students who aren't able to get the extra help they are yearning for in the chaos of the traditional classroom.  My time working with these students has been very gratifying. Soon I will be moving onto graduate school and working towards my masters in school psychology. I feel very grateful to all of my teachers, my brother, and the Humility of Mary program for giving me the opportunity to work in a school setting. All of these people and experiences have worked together to bring me to where I am right now. 

<3, Tina

Suddenly it is June

Where did the month of May go so quickly? It is crazy to think that today marks only two months left of volunteering with AIJustice. With the piles and piles of files, papers, and folders in my office it is difficult to imagine having everything caught up by the end of July!

Beginning several months ago there has been a major influx of minors in the immigration detention facilities here in Miami. We are not entirely sure of the cause of the influx, but it may be related to some changes in the policies of Mexico’s immigration enforcement (the majority of the minors we see come from Central America and must pass through Mexico without being detained and deported by that country’s immigration officials).

The increased numbers of clients these last few months has been accompanied by a never-ending stream of horrific stories of suffering, poverty, fear, and abandonment by so many young people. The looks of dismay in their faces and the many tears shed during our conversations are enough to break a person’s heart. Gang violence has increased in Honduras and El Salvador, leading many to flee in search of a safer life. At the same time, the United States has had difficulty housing the increased numbers of young detainees. Temporary shelters were set up in Texas, and the minors here in Miami have spent several weeks or more in these shelters with very limited bathroom access and crowded sleeping conditions.

The silver lining to the oftentimes depressing stories that I hear each week is that many of these children are eligible for immigration relief through our immigration laws and will therefore have the opportunity to create a new, safer life in this country. J

As the coming weeks bring a close to my two years of service at AIJustice, I am trying my best to take as much out of this experience as possible. Law school begins on August 16^th at the University of Miami. I am excited (and a bit intimidated!) to switch gears and return to school after my time with HMVS. But whatever the challenges of law school, I hope to always keep the perspective I have gained through my work with one of the most disadvantaged populations within our borders—unaccompanied immigrant minors.

--Adam

My Two Day Teaching Career........

Hello

Six weeks ago Sr. Jeanne Thurin (aka Jocko the Clown) asked me if I would be interested in assisting with a two day workshop for 150 7th & 8th graders from Girard Junior High.  She was in need of "teachers" to lead mini sessions on composting, seeding, recycling and soil.  She told me she would provide the lesson plan and I would attend a volunteer teacher training session to prepare for the day.

Of course being the loyal volunteer that I am I agreed.  She assigned me the seeding session due to my greenhouse and farm experience.  I attended a three hour training session, picked up my teachers's manual and had a great morning with Sr. Jeanne.  I shared some ideas with her on what I might do in my session..............

Fast forward to yesterday (the day before class) I dug out and dusted off the teacher's manual and began reading the lesson plan.... highlighted a few items and really began to give some thought to two days of 7th and 8th graders and what it might be like to stand before them as the expert in seeding.  I made a quick trip out for poster board and flower & vegetable packets in hopes of designing a visual teaching tool. 

Keep in mind I have a BSW degree and spent 30 years in higher education dealing with undergraduates and graduates who have long passed 7th & 8th grade....... again I thought how hard can this be?

This morning my daughter Erin called to give me a pep talk and clearly said she wanted no complaining on my part if a student rolled their eyes at me, whined about the heat or wandered off from the group.... 

Off I went to the farm - praying for guidance and a quick course in education 101.   The farm was hot and humid with impending storm clouds.  My first group was not quite awake so I was able to breeze through without to many questions.   The second group came alive and the third group was full of life and energy.  By then it was lunch time and the rains came so we finished the day in Macnificant Dining Room.  The background of the greenhouse and the fields provided great resources for a talk on seeding and how seeds grow.  I had to work harder in the dining room with no visuals and of course the after lunch lack of attention and energy started to creep in.  The final session ended and the buses were loaded.  I will go back for tomorrow for day two with the 8th graders.  Today was great and I expect tomorrow to be the same but I think I will keep my day job as a farmer!!

My thanks to all of you who are teachers by training or by the luck of your volunteer placement.  Many of you have written about your teaching experiences this year - the planning, the creativity you have and most importantly the children you see daily.  I can only imagine the energy it takes to keep a classroom alive each day.  I have a new respect and sincere appreciation for all of you. 

blessings
beth

Some Laughs to End the School Year

This week is the last week of the Guadalupe afterschool program.  I think back to my first day as a “teacher.”  I was about as inexperienced as they come, I had no idea where my classroom was, and I was making up a discipline system on the fly.  Sometimes it’s hard to believe that I have made it this far. Last week one of my students asked when the last day of afterschool was.  I told him that it was next Friday.  I expected his reaction to be that of excitement and relief.  The prison with all the rules and the people who make you do your homework would be exchanged for home with television, videogames, and toys.  That was not the case.  Miguel proceeded to be sad and say that he never wanted to leave afterschool. Cue 18 kindergarteners moaning because they don’t want the afterschool program to end either.  I didn’t realize how much fun we were having and then I think about the year.  It’s not a prison.  It’s a positive environment filled with games, art projects, people who help you with your homework, and recess.  So to give you a taste of what I got to do every day here are some examples of funny things that my kindergarteners have said and done this past year:

1) Damon after I explained how I hurt myself playing basketball: "Miss Barbara I play football, but no one tackles me.  I just score touchdowns."
2) Gabriel: "Miss Barbara, does your eye hurt?"  I replied yes.  "Then can I poke it?"  I replied no. (I had stitches at the time)
3) Eduardo: "I bought cheetos today for me and my brother."  Then he comes in real close and whispers, "The hot ones."
4) Justin: "Miss Barbara, did you know that you can never put up your middle finger at someone?"  (apparently that was a problem in the classroom that day)
5) Eduardo after I gave him his snack (a smuckers uncrustable pb and j):  " I don't want it.  The last time I had one I threw up." (this kid might be on to something)
6) We made bird feeders out of pine cones, peanut butter, and bird seed. When we were outside hanging them up in trees Alisia took a big bite out of hers.  I really hope she got mostly peanut butter in that bite.
7)Victor looking really confused when I told him that roosters didn't lay eggs because they were all boys (yes, there are roosters in our schoolyard).

8) Maria: “Miss Barbara did you know that wearing high heels makes you tired.  My sister wears them and she has to take naps. She comes home and says that she has to lay down because her shoes make her tired.” (good thing I prefer flip-flops and running shoes)

9) Jonathan: “Can I go to the bathroom to have a fart.”  (The answer was “of course.”  That boy has such consideration for the rest of the class).

10) Gabriel: “Why doesn’t my head fit in here?” he asked this as he was trying to put his head inside of the Ziploc bag we keep the crayons in.

11) Maria: “I left that one at home because I don’t like zippers.”  This was her answer to why she had a grocery bag instead of her usual bookbag.

12) I yelled at Carmen for dragging Jose into the bathroom.  Her response was, “But he left pee on the seat.”  (Future roommates should be warned about this)

13) Alex: “My uncle watches cuss word movies.  Those are the bad ones.

14) Justin’s answer to every question during story time is “banana.” Usually I have to tell him that it isn’t the answer I’m looking for until the week we read about Curious George.  I purposely asked the question, “What is George eating?”  Banana was the right answer and Justin gave it.
15) 18 kindergarteners playing freeze dance.  They are completely uninhibited in their dance moves and it will always put a smile on your face.

These little snippets might be more entertaining to me because I know the kids they are coming from and half of what makes them funny is their demeanor and expressions.  I hope you can appreciate them on some level.  Just thinking about all the hugs I have received, all the art pictures they have drawn for me, and all of the uncontrollable laughter we have shared brings a smile to my face.  The kids really do make me laugh everyday which is something that I hold on to when it seems like they are not listening to a word I say (which happens more than I would like).  So while I would say that working after school has been my most challenging job placement, it has also been the most rewarding.  Now here’s to hoping we can all handle the summer program!

Peace Out

Love,

Babs

*All student names have been changed.

The Transient Nature of Immokalee

         For some, Immokalee is home where they have to or choose to spend large increments (many years) of time. For many, many others, it is a transient place. People come and go: farmworkers, immigrants, social workers, activists, volunteers, etc. This nature of the town was explained to us by many people when we first arrived. Yet, the reality of this is felt more than ever as some of my roommates start to make some final decisions about their plans for the upcoming year, as the town starts to transition towards the summer, and as I begin to think about how I personally have only two and a half months left to live and work here.

It is about this time of year that Immokalee starts to feel emptier as people start to leave the south and follow the crops up north. The lines at the Winn Dixie get shorter, there are less people walking down Main Street, and kids start talking about how they miss a parent that has had to go to work up north. Some of the volunteers will start missing children who have to be pulled out of school early to travel with their parents. We will also start to say goodbye to some of our friends as they also go up and pick watermelons, apples, blueberries, etc. in the northern states.

For the volunteers, this is also a time of transition. We have only two weeks of afterschool left. As our children are starting to feel antsy for change, so are we. Yet, our excitement for summer camp is also a bit burdened with tinges of sadness since the next few weeks might be the last that we get to see some of our children who will not be in the summer program. I have one girl who will be going to Mexico for the summer. She looked at me a week ago and acknowledged, “I’m sad that I will not get to see you after May 25.” I responded lightheartedly but was pretty sad about it too. We also stop working at our morning sites when summer camp begins, and, of course, there are so many people that we will miss there too. Some of them we will continue to see around town. Some we will not. As a result of these changes, we are starting to prepare for quite a few goodbyes.

The fact of it is that there are so many wonderful people here, and, since they welcomed us so wholeheartedly, we were drawn into so many amazing relationships. And, suddenly, we take our final trek towards the end of it. This time is one of happiness as we enjoy every last minute of our time here, look forward to summer camp, and celebrate the fact that new volunteers will come to take our place. Yet, it is also a time that has a hint of nostalgia for the many people we have met.