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. 

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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.

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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.

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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