STRONG

Oh Social Services, you seem like such a small part of my daily life down here.  One morning a week as a caseworker and one student for School on Wheels.  Such a small commitment, such a huge emotional experience.  This morning I had a client come in.  Her name was Esperanza.*  She’s in her 40’s.  Her daughter was with her.  Esperanza appeared to have some physical problems and to be in pain.  I would venture a guess to say maybe multiple sclerosis or fibromyalgia or arthritis or lupus.  It’s hard to tell.  Her daughter stood behind her mother with her hands on her shoulders—supporting her.  Esperanza doesn’t speak English and probably doesn’t have a driver’s license.  In some cases her daughter is her lifeline to the community. 

A daughter about my age. 

Would I be able to be that lifeline for my parents?  Or would I be too selfish. . .unwilling to give up “my life?”  I thought about how strong Esperanza’s daughter is.  Then on their way out I saw the daughter’s tattoos—“Strong” on her right chest, “Esperanza” on her left chest.  I don’t know their whole story but I could feel the mutual love and respect between these two and it was deep—damn it was deep. 

Then I saw them at Walgreens later today.  I might not have given them a second thought, but seeing them stirred up all of my thoughts.  Brought them to the front of my mind after they had been jumbled up with all of my clients from the morning. If I hadn’t needed body wash, floss, and tape I wouldn’t have had these insights and thoughts and meditation.  I would not have been affected in this way.  Coincidence? I don’t think so,

Peace Out

Love,

Babs

*Client's name has been changed.

Gardening

When I first arrived to my house in Immokalee, I saw that we had a garden in the backyard.  My roommate, Vitina, told me that a volunteer from last year, Dennis, had built the garden and that he taught her how to garden last year.   I was mildly interested, as I had helped my dad in the garden growing up, but had no real experience gardening.  One of our friends who moved down to Immokalee around the same time as us, though, named Jake, was an avid gardener.  When my roommates and I soon became too busy with our volunteer sites, Jake took over the garden.

            Soon, every day when we came home from teaching around 5.15pm, we would see Jake’s truck in our driveway.  I would go out to the garden and see Jake watering or planting.  I would talk to him about the silly and/or frustrating parts of my afternoon with my kids and he would tell me about the challenges he was facing working at The Coalition of Immokalee Workers.  He was always so happy to get away from his computer for a short period of time to spend in nature working in the garden.

            Recently, Jake told me that he’s giving the garden to me.  It was funny because the garden is in our backyard, but it had really become Jake’s.  I’m apprehensive about it, but I’m excited to take over the responsibilities.

 In Solidarity,

Julie

Everyone has heard and used the saying, “it’s a small world,” (or some variation of the saying) at some point in their lives. Whether it be running into and old friend, meeting a mutual friend through another, or sharing a common experience with a total stranger, making these acquaintances usually seems to put a smile on one’s face. The saying has a strange ability of unveiling certain nostalgia for the simplest things in the past, but at the same time it can relate to the present day, establishing connections you could not have imagined.

            Last week I met a young lady, of course now writing this I do not remember her name, who is in her third year of law school at UM and works in the immigration clinic. In the midst of our conversation it came out that I also work in immigration at AI Justice, and the light went off. It turns she actually did and internship about a year ago at AI Justice (or known as FIAC at that point). We ensued to play the name drop game, etc. etc., as go those conversations. As we reflected upon the utter coincidence of our meeting and third party connections (she knew my boss my name), I proceed to say, “Wow! What a small word!” In an instant I was corrected. “It is not that it’s a small world,” she said, “but more so that our world is big!” While I cannot remember this young lady’s name for the life of me, from now on I will always remember these words.

            Of course not everyone is given the opportunity to have as big of a world that many of us have. Considering these words really makes me pause and reflect upon how grateful I am for the opportunities presented to me and all the who have played a part in making them happen, whether it be my own parents or the HM community.  Realizing this inflicts the utmost sense of, dare I say, humility as to just how fortunate we in this community really are. However, as long as this consideration is granted, I do not think having a “big world” is something to apologize about; it is more so something to cherish, something to act upon for the benefit of all.

            Just two days after this meeting, my “big world” was revealed even further. While meeting with detainees at the Broward Transition Center, I was editing a client’s declaration when it was discovered he lived (prior to detention) in Immokalee. He knew of the coalition, as he worked in the field alongside many other migrant workers (either tomatoes or strawberries – Immokalee folks, are there strawberry fields?), even though he never participated in it directly. We tried to play the name game, but it didn’t really work. However, as I described our own HM Volunteers in Immokalee, he said he may have seen them around town earlier this year. This conversation certainly illuminated his spirits, as it did mine, and further shed light on just how big our world really is. 

Check out this video on the problems of Immigration Detention - especially as it relates to private institutions and the money/market behind immigration- that highlights Broward Transitional Center, a detention center I go to about twice a week. Our executive director, Cheryl Little,  also speaks on behalf of AI Justice. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mAKL3Rl_Ihc&feature=sh_e_se&list=SL

Cheers,

Anthony

Immokalee Harvest Festival

Because Immokalee is such a small town and almost everyone knows one another, large parties are pretty big here. For example, my roommates and I were invited to our co-worker’s four year-old son’s birthday party this Saturday. When I tried to RSVP, our co-worker responded, “No need for that. There will be tons of people there. Just be sure to come and bring anyone you want. I’m sure you will see a lot of people you know there.” The truly amazing part of her statement? The sentiments are truly representative of the overall welcoming attitude and hospitality in town. People here generally want to know new people, have a desire to catch up with those that they already know, and, of course, love a good celebration.

So, for this reason, I was very excited about last weekend’s Harvest Festival, an event that was supposed to start off the release of many balloons into the air at six a.m. (I have to be honest, I did not wake up for that part.) What I did attend was the parade down Main Street in town at 11:30 where I got to see both a small representation of Highland Hawks (the school where we teach afterschool) and a much larger representation of PACE girls. Of course, no parade would be complete without one former Humility of Mary volunteer in it, and she was riding on a very extravagant harvest-themed float that she helped create with students at the local technical school. As we were right down the street from the Coalition, we also helped supervise a few of the member’s kids and watched them eagerly jump for any and all candy that was thrown.

Afterwards, we went to the fair-portion of the festival, made even more interesting by the fact that we went with two second grade boys (whose mothers we are friends with) who wanted to do every activity from free face-painting to putting on big blow-up donuts to bounce against one another. Of course, we also saw all of our high school tutors in afterschool and a few of our afterschool kids who were enjoying the fair as much as we were. Of course, the fair would not have been complete without horse dancing. Yes, men (who live locally in town) who can tap a horse just right so that, instead of walking or trotting, they danced, to the beat. All in all, the Festival was Immokalee. Small, sensible, and highly, highly entertaining and a whole lot of fun.

The sense of community in Immokalee is one thing that I am really going to miss when I leave here. It’s events like these that make one fall ever deeper into love with the town. And I recommend to any future volunteers that they make sure to attend as many as they can.

I also have to apologize for chronically forgetting to take pictures and getting this picture off of google.com.

Sarah

Becoming a local

A better blog will be coming Wednesday afternoon! Till now here are some photos!

I never cease to be amazed by this town and how much it has become home to me.

~Jennifer