11.08.08
Posted in AV 2008 international at 3:09 pm by michaelbarry08
I think about the events of that particular day often. The swell of emotions caused by witnessing the reality of the situation flooded my senses, leaving me speechless. My heart ached in disbelief, as if some desensitized old timer was trying to convince it, “that’s just the way it is, kid.” My stomach tied itself in knots, as if it wanted to retaliate against what was about to happen. As I looked at the four-year-old boy, clenched in his grandmother’s arms, I saw the look of confusion on his face. He grows teary eyed when he sees his mother get in the car; instincts and misunderstanding are telling him that the bond he shares with his mother is about to be severed. We slowly began to drive away from the home and my eyes began to mirror the boy’s. The difference, however, was that my eyes spoke words of uncertainty, not knowing when, or if, the boy would see his mother again. It would be a while until he will be able to fully comprehend what happened that day, that his mother is HIV positive and needed to leave home to get medical attention.
It was my first time picking up a new patient to be brought to the respite unit of the local Hillcrest AIDS Center, a place where those suffering from HIV/AIDS are provided with the medical, physical, and emotional support necessary to fight the virus and, hopefully, return to a normal life. The only thought that comforted me as I drove away from the grandmother and the son was in knowing that the woman was being taken to such a positive and uplifting environment, a place where skilled care-givers and nurses could assess her current condition, stabilize her, and get her on a life-sustaining course of treatment. It happens daily at the respite unit, and often with great success.
One such success story which I felt personally gifted to be apart of in a minute way was the recent release of another patient from the respite unit. Driving the patient home, up to the front door of her home, being greeted with the cheers and smiles of her sister and mother, I saw the power of family and the positive, healthy force that was being generated in the household and, on a bigger scale, in the community, with the return of this one woman. As I said my goodbyes and drove up the winding road out of the valley where she lived, I recalled the day only one week before, outside of a home only five minutes away, when a mother was separated from her infant son. When family bonds were crippled and the heartbeat of a close-knit community lost its steady rhythm by the destructive and malicious power of AIDS. I prayed that the son, aided by his grandmother, would sleep peacefully that night. I am hopeful of the mother’s return to her son; family bonds re-sewn, a community uplifted.
Michael Barry - South Africa 2008
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09.11.08
Posted in AV 2008 international at 8:49 am by Alexa Levy
Everyday, at 10 o’clock on the dot, the bell signaling the start of break sounds outside the main office. Children begin to pour out of classrooms; some run to buy chips and candy from the aunties, others form a line at the kitchen for beans and rice, some forgo lunch all together and make a beeline for the basketball court. I grab my lunch and maneuver through the frenzy of students going this way and that, and eventually make my way to the front stoop of the computer room. Perched on a chair outside is Ayanda, St. Leo’s resident assistant, receptionist, typist, substitute teacher and so on. As her many job titles suggest, Ayanda does a lot for St. Leo’s, and her presence there has become invaluable to me.
Ayanda lives just a short walk from school. She’s lived in Molweni her entire life, and even attended St. Leo’s as a child. She graduated from the local high school when she was just fifteen. Thanks to our daily lunch dates outside of the computer room, we’ve shared stories, opinions, worries, language lessons, and many, many laughs. We’ve become good friends.
One of my favorite things about Ayanda is her unabated curiosity. Our friendship was so quick in the making because she has always loved asking me questions, and vice versa. We’ve grown up on opposite sides of the globe, and have lived very different lives in completely different places. She is endlessly amused by my tales from America. In turn, Ayanda has given me a glimpse of what it’s like to be a young Zulu woman in South Africa.
We’ve asked each other just about everything. Her questions range every topic imaginable. What’s your Mom like? What’s your favorite TV show? Do you have kids? Do you want kids? What kind of man do you want to marry? Do you want to be a nun? What are you eating? Do you do your own washing? Are there poor people in America? Do you have AIDS in America? Why do you eat so much peanut butter? Do you like Jacob Zuma? How do you get your hair to do that?
We talk about university, friends, siblings, parents, work, food, politics, boys - just about everything. From all that I’ve learned about Ayanda, I know that she is a remarkable person. She is smart and hardworking. She is funny and caring. She is only twenty years old, but has dealt with her fair share of struggles, and as a young Zulu woman, will no doubt face many more.
She attends university on the weekends, and is working towards a degree in business. Out of all her friends, Ayanda is the only one who doesn’t yet have a baby. She is also the only one without a boyfriend, something her friends taunt her for regularly. Their teasing bothers her quite a bit, but after appearing troubled for a moment she quips, “It’s fine. School is my boyfriend right now.” This is typical Ayanda - light hearted, clever, unsure at times, and mature beyond her years.
Needless to say, Ayanda is an integral and irreplaceable part of my experience in South Africa thus far. She is a friend I never imagined I would make, and now I can’t imagine having never met her. I am so very grateful for all that she has taught me about the place and the people I serve, and I’m grateful for all the wonderful questions and conversations to come.
Alexa Levy - South Africa 2008
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08.20.08
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:17 am by brian.strassburger
What is your reality? My reality is huge, it is enormous. I could fill a book with it! Let’s see - I am 24 years old and from the United States. I have travelled across the country, and even across the world. I have a college degree, and a history of impeccable health. The sky is the limit and the world is my playground!
But you know, during the past seven months I have spent in South Africa, I have met some amazing people. Amazing people with very different realities!
How about Gogo Gloria? What is her reality?
About 20 months ago, she was bit on her legs by a snake and had a failed skin graft surgery. Now she can’t get out of her house without facing a 200 yard hill with a torn-up dirt path leading to the paved street above. With open wounds on both her legs, she can’t make it up the hill. That hill is her reality. Her reality is that every Friday, the noble Zulu woman that she is has to swallow her pride to squat into a wheelbarrow that carries her up the hill so that she can get a ride to the hospital to have her bandages changed. She does not need pity- just a way to get up that hill.
How about young Nomphilo? What is her reality?
She should be in the middle of her last year of elementary school, as a bright and beautiful teenage girl. She couldn’t make it to classes this year, though, because she was spending too much time in the hospital. Her reality is that she was born with AIDS. She did not contract AIDS through any fault of her own, she was simply born with it- it is the only reality she has known. For most students here, Holy Thursday was the first day of a three week holiday from school. For Nomphilo, she had an IV in her arm and spent the night in the lobby of a government (meaning: poor conditions) hospital. She’ll never get to celebrate her 15th birthday- she passed away in July.
And Manqoba? What is his reality?
He is 14 years old and full of energy and life. He is also a student in Grade 5th for the second year in a row. His reality is the life of an orphan. He stays at St. Theresa’s Boys Home in a cottage with eleven other boys, all under the care and supervision of one “Auntie,” who struggles to divide her time and attention between them all, like a parent with twelve boys (except she already has her own children, too). Manqoba is generally well behaved in school, except on Tuesdays, when he goes to see the psychologist and it shakes him up inside.
As I think about my reality, I can’t help but reflect on the realities of Gogo, Nomphilo and Manqoba. These are people who have deeply touched my life in the past seven months. It’s come to the point that I can’t see my reality without seeing them in it. And that’s the point.
The point is: my reality is connected with each of theirs. My reality might fill a book with eloquent prose, but as long as it’s only about me, consider it a work of fiction. It must include the reality of Gogo Gloria and that hill outside her house. It must include the reality of Nomphilo and the disease that stole her life. And it must include the reality of Manqoba and his unstable future.
In fact, they have a word for that here: “ubuntu,” which is short for the Zulu “umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu.” Translation: “a person is a person through other people.” What a profound concept in such simple terms!
So it’s all about ubuntu. Our reality is shared: our relationships impact and change us in profound ways that forever connect our lives together. This concept has never been clearer to me than through my relationships here with people from all different walks of life. So forget about filling a book, a library couldn’t contain my shared reality! That’s ubuntu!
And that’s my reality. What’s yours? Or rather - what’s ours?
Brian Strassburger- South Africa 2008, Bronx 2006-07
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08.05.08
Posted in Uncategorized at 10:41 pm by emmastewart
“Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same?”
This song lyric has played through my head at various points throughout my time in South Africa. I doubt that any volunteer can really know what their time has in store for them. This perhaps becomes even more true when volunteering abroad. Living overseas carries its own set of challenges and surprises, which at times can make your head spin. This is certainly the case for me since I had planned for quite some time to spend this time in Peru. However, I can’t even begin to imagine not having had this experience. The Augustinian community in South Africa and the learners and teachers at St. Leo’s have added such richness to my life that I can barely remember a time before they were in it. I will never be the same.
Five days a week I attempt to teach English to 300+ students at St. Leo’s Primary School. In addition to what takes place within the classroom, I regularly play hide and seek, pump up an assortment of sports balls, apply plasters (band-aids), hold hands, defeat 7th graders in Horse, tie shoes and shwiba.
Although much of my time here has been spent as the teacher, I am also very much the learner. The most important lesson I have learned so far came by way of a 5 year old. Sphe and I are great friends at school. I see him nearly every break and am always greeted with a big smile and usually a running hug. Sphe and I are still learning to communicate- mostly in the most rudimentary sentences or by pointing and using only verbs. The most common one I hear from him is “shwiba”. This means that he wants me to pick him up and spin him around wildly. I usually comply. For those of you who haven’t spun recently, it doesn’t take much to get dizzy. In doing this, Sphe has taught me an extremely important lesson: if you focus on the ecstatic face of the person who you are spinning, everything else melts away and you feel like you can spin forever and never get tired.
The problems here are many. As I write this, there is no school because there is a taxi stay-away and the majority of people in KZN can’t get to work. Many of our learners don’t have adequate food, shelter or clothing. They are 2 to 3 years older than they should be and still don’t read at grade level. Their families and community have been ravaged by HIV. The list goes on. However, when you focus on one learner, whether it is learning his or her name, helping them complete an assignment, or get access to medical care, the other things fade away for the moment, and you are able to wake up every day and look forward to the next time you shwiba.
Emma Stewart- South Africa
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06.09.08
Posted in AV 2007-08 domestic at 6:50 am by osavolor
“Radical change in World politics leaves America with a heightened responsibility to be, for the world, an example of genuinely free, domestic, just and humane society” -Pope John Paul II
I am not quite sure how world politics will affect my ability to teach English Literature at Notre Dame High School, but I am positive that I can be an example to my students. The students in Lawrence fight the temptations of peer pressure, gangs, and additional influences that pull them away from Christ. My Augustinian year has been blessed with many great occurrences and opportunities. My housemates are truly genuine individuals that see life as an opportunity and exemplify it to the fullest. The two factors that have impacted my life the greatest spiritually this year have been my first year of teaching and getting engaged to my fiance.
I believe education to be my vocation. Before I came to Lawrence, individuals would comment on what I was doing and saying that it was an amazing opportunity and that as long as I influence one student, I succeed. Personally, the mentality of being there for one student is beyond empathetic and comes from someone who does not comprehend being involved in education. I came into this year with the mindset of affecting all 73 of my students in a positive manner. Being on the cusp of complete independence, allows the AV’s to show children what opportunities and chances exist outside of their media and materialistic driven worlds. By showing my students or the individuals that other volunteers come into contact with on a daily basis, there is an opportunity to experience a happy, loving, and enthusiastic life when following Christ.
With regards to my fiance, Nancy has been more than motivating, supportive, and understanding about the requirements to live in a faith based community. She is also a Catholic and educator on the elementary level. I went into teaching with no educational experience, and she has had 4 years while earning her degree. We have been able to come closer in Christ and in each other as we were able to rely on each other for advice and support throughout the good times and difficult times of this year. I love her for many reasons, but it essentially comes down to the factor that I love her because this is what God calls me to do. The long distance has definitely been beneficial in practicing our communication skills. Being able to effectively communicate and be there for her, when I am not present in person, has been crucial in our development as a couple. She is able to hold me accountable with regards to my spiritual, teaching, community, and personal goals. She is the soul reason for making my volunteer year so worth while and rewarding.
With regards to the community, they have made all aspects of living easier and calming. They have adapted my idea and perspective on how prayer should be performed and considered. By educating and sharing with me their thoughts and expectations, I am able to understand more about specific issues and ideals that should be of my deepest concern as a Catholic and Christian.
Unfortunately, there is a pitfall. People out there believe there is an expiration date on service. Individuals may have the mentality of “I have done my direct service; I do not need to do anymore.” The volunteer year should not be the end nor the beginning of an individual’s life of service but the standard. The bar has been set and hopefully set to the highest.
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06.05.08
Posted in AV 2007-08 domestic at 6:30 pm by tessa oc
Yes, that is what I’m going to write about. Cheese.
I just sat down to write this entry, stared at the flashing cursor for a good five minutes, and decided to take a stroll around the house for inspiration. My endeavor ended rather quickly, though, as I headed straight for the refrigerator. Alright, maybe I was hungry and searching for a snack with which to begin my journey, but I fortunately happened upon the inspiration I needed (not to mention a bonus snack as well).
The canister of parmesan cheese.
Now, although my housemates and I tend to find humor in the strangest of places (a paper bag, eyebrows, really anything that normally isn’t funny), the parmesan cheese didn’t make the cut this year. It’s not like I was inspired by the cheese because we have some huge joke that I was reminded of when I saw it. O contraire.
But as the cheese caught my eye, I thought about how it represents an interesting aspect of this volunteer year. Now, this might be a stretch, but bear with me. I’m going to try it.
My housemates. I love my housemates and feel very blessed to be surrounded by such kindhearted and interesting people every day. They each bring diverse gifts and ideas to the table, and this year has been utterly brilliant because of them. During times of happiness, stress, confusion, hilarity, pressure, ambivalence, they are there, each coloring my days in a special way. I honestly feel like each conversation, each gathering, each day, is a blossoming garden of possibility. Was that cheesy? Maybe. But it’s true. And speaking of cheese…
As I examined the cheese, I thought about how each housemate uses it differently.
Lindsay puts it on, well, pretty much anything. She’s a seasoned pro at putting thousands of spices/ sauces/ condiments/ you name it on top of basically any food in the book. Re: the marinara-nachos incident, the applesauce-Cheerios escapade. It’s actually really impressive.
Andrew, the resident chef, is a Food Network junkie who whips up masterpieces with a wave of his hand. The parmesan cheese is used creatively yet masterfully, as we all stare in wonder and drool.
Nort enjoys the cheese, but perhaps might not be satisfied with the lack of the brand name on the product. But while he is not enamored with the cheese, he partakes.
I’ve taken a strange approach to the cheese, as it has become my favorite musical instrument in the house (besides my ever-ready air guitar). For those unaware, parmesan cheese canisters make for fantastic rhythmic shakers, and I love to drop some sweet shaker beats whenever it’s out on the table.
And Jane. Well, Jane can’t eat the cheese. Lactose intolerant. Not her fault.
So you see? The cheese stands very differently with everyone in the house. Yes, we all have some sort of relationship with the cheese, but our approaches and abilities with it are extremely varied.
The parmesan cheese itself does not represent anything in particular, but I believe it helps illustrate something that I truly appreciate about this year. My housemates have been a wonderful blessing to me. We have all been traveling through this year together, struggling through hard days at work, working through inequalities in our society and our minds, sharing a singular experience to which only we can fully relate. But to this year, we all brought our unique life lessons, approaches, perspectives, words, thoughts, ideas, selves. And we are being formed differently because of it. It is a priceless gift, even if we aren’t aware of it every day. It is beautiful.
All this from parmesan cheese.
Tessa O’Connor, Lawrence 2007-2008
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05.28.08
Posted in AV 2007-08 domestic at 8:08 pm by kdicker
Direct quote from my journal on September 6, 2007:
“I have no idea what this year has in store. What role I will be playing as the service literacy provider at St. Vincent de Paul Village. What role I will play in my community and what person I will become from the experience I am about to embark upon.”
This was after the 10 day orientation with my fellow AV’s, a few days of sharing the sunny city of San Diego with my community and about 4 days of working at The Village. A common emotion that is tagged onto the beginning of an experience such as this one. I knew who I was as a person, or did I? I knew that I would learn, grow and change, but have I? In a previous blog written by one of my fellow AV’s and a good friend, I share a feeling with her by saying, how can being taken away from the most comfortable situation in the world and being placed in the most uncomfortable situation not change you?
Last night my community and I had a discussion about the service we are doing this year. Answering questions like at what point during this year were we able to step out of our comfort zone? Or, Had we at all? What lessons would we take as we move on with our lives when this year is over? While trying to hold back the emotions of imagining the small family we had created being separated, I tried to grasp onto the reality of this discussion. At what point did I step out of my comfort zone, if I had at all, and what would I take from this year? Here is what I came up with…
Direct quote from my journal October 5, 2007:
“Today was a hard day to stomach. It was my first staff day which consisted of the usual review of policies and procedures, an ice breaker activity, essentially to keep everyone’s attention, and then a nice lunch out with my co-workers where I was treated for all my hard work. (All my hard work which didn’t seem like much other than cutting out shapes for PACTT night and attempting to put together activities for the preschoolers which they didn’t even pay attention to) After lunch, Jayne (my boss) told me we would be having a meeting with the child psychologist. Interesting… Well, it was. At this meeting I was informed of all the struggles, the children I had been working with for the past month, either are facing or have faced in their lives. How do you stomach that the little girl you just taught to count by 2’s, 5’s, and 10’s was once molested by her stepfather. Or the twins who are the cutest little boys in the world were being neglected, undernourished and possibly abused. Today was a hard day, but there is one thing I learned. I learned that I can no longer be scared to help these kids. They are not intimidating. They need all the love they can get. I was given so much love, I know how to spread that. That is what I need to do. Give them everything. Give them what’s in my heart. And that is what I plan to do.”
I think this was the day that I stepped out of my comfort zone. Some may say that it took a long time. Looking back, I ask myself why it took that long. But I think all things happen for a reason. If you ask any of my roommates or family how I handled that day, they will all say the same thing. “It was a hard day”. But it was a day that I will always remember. A day that I wouldn’t have been able to get through without the love and support from my family and community. It was the day I learned my role as not only a teacher, but a friend, a shoulder, an ear, a hug or just a smile. I vowed from that day on to spend the rest of my time at the village in the baby room or with the toddlers, preschool and school-aged kids as much as I could. I can honestly say that I have fulfilled that promise and I will until the day I leave.
After spending the last 9 months in San Diego with Becky, Dan, Elizabeth, Jesse and Joanna, 5 people who started off as complete strangers, but who I now call family. Working in an environment that I, at first, felt weary walking around the premises but now feel comfortable to walk the 2 miles to and from work, and loving the kids that I had vowed I would do, I can certainly say I have grown as a person. While I have grown and changed over the course of the past 9 months, I still carry many of the same values I arrived here with. My roommates were able to provide me with a more diverse perspective on so many issues. Perspectives that I am so grateful to have seen. No other time or place will I be given the opportunity to have the experience that I have had this year, and I sure that I would not have wanted it any other way.
Krista Dicker
San Diego 07′-08′
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05.20.08
Posted in AV 2007-08 domestic at 10:33 am by bhorto01
When I sat down to write this blog I had trouble deciding where to begin. At this point in my year of volunteering, I can distinctly recognize the beginning, middle, and now ending stages. It has been almost nine months since I met my roommates in the apartment in downtown Philadelphia; the “beginning”. The middle months flew by and I now find myself entering the home stretch of this volunteer year.
The year starts as a massive overload of new things. New people, new relationships, a new city, new experiences, new responsibilities, new mind sets, new goals, and new challenges. I came to Chicago for the first time and was entering an atmosphere entirely filled with unknowns. From having just a basic understanding of what being Augustinian really means to living with five strangers to working in a school where I would be in the minority; each of the unknowns created a different challenge which I alone could not handle overcoming.
Which is why it was a good thing there were six of us to figure it all out.
I am talking, of course, about my roommates. Six different people, all coming from different backgrounds. When we met in Philadelphia and I sat down on the couch next to the four girls from Massachusetts and my fellow Villanova grad whom I had never met, while we knew nothing about each other, we instantly had something in common - we were all starting this unique experience together.
And together we went for our week long orientation; touring around Philadelphia, choosing household responsibilities, telling the story of our faith experiences, getting to know each other little by little. As I said, there were many new things going on. New things which in the beginning weeks we would learn a lot about; we learned about our city, our jobs, our neighbors, our Augustinian community, and about each other. Amanda, Claire, Jeannie, Pat and Susan made those beginning weeks so much easier then I ever expected.
The biggest challenge as a volunteer for me was figuring out my role. I knew my job title; computer teacher at St. Margaret of Scotland School, but what exactly did that entail. When I was given my job assignment there was a list of different job expectations, but those were very general. Figuring out my role at the school took a long time. As I see it now, the computers in my classroom were simply the instrument I had been given to allow me to achieve what it is I sought out to do with my volunteer year. Jeannie was given books and a library, Claire, a classroom of preschoolers, Amanda, pregnant teenagers, Susan a school of pre-K through eighth graders, and Pat an all boys high school. Each of our jobs were our instruments to allow us to perform our duties as Augustinian Volunteers.
While learning about computers is an important skill for these students to learn, you need to learn to crawl before you can walk. At times through out my year at St. Margaret I often wondered why this school in desperate need of so many things (like a sufficient number of qualified teachers for starters) has two computer labs filled with brand new desktop and laptop computers. How was I, with no background in education, expected to step into this computer classroom and teach computers to students who struggle with following directions, being on time, being attentive and respectful in a classroom.
I realized on the first day of school at St. Margaret of Scotland that all students in the school knew exactly who I was. I was the 20 something white male college graduate from the east who would be gone at the school years end. Just like the computer teacher here last year. Just like the computer teacher here before him. The students can trace my position back probably five years when the Augustinian Volunteers first came to Chicago. To them, everyone who held my position is very much the same. What that means is that I was entering a situation where I had very little understanding of my new surroundings. I was very lost, very confused, nervous, and unsure of what I am doing at this place. I was supposed to be the teacher and knew very little. My students on the other hand, seemed to know everything about me and were very familiar in their surroundings. It seemed a little backwards that I was the one getting the education.
My job title was computer teacher, but like I said, I started to think of my computer classroom as an instrument rather then a place to develop future computer technicians. To the best of my inexperienced ability as a teacher, I wanted to try to do things with these kids that would allow them to be independent and figure things out for themselves; problem solve, trial and error, cooperation, dealing with frustration, being respectful, and understanding the limits of how you should act in a classroom. In the process, if they picked up some useful computer skills then all the better.
In order for me to be a successful teacher, I think it was important for me to keep my own mind sharp and fresh through out the year. The best way I have been able to do this is through living in community and the prayer life. Prayer was a new concept to me; or rather, it was a misunderstood concept for me. It was an aspect of this year that I can honestly say was a concern for me coming in. I would ask myself, is developing my spirituality with five strangers something I am looking for in my year of service. I am not sure I answered that question before I committed to this program, but I know now my answer is community and prayer life is what has kept me strong and sharp through out this whole year. The reason I say it was a misunderstood concept because I always viewed prayer as kneeling in silence, candles lit, having a conversation that started with Dear God.
I discovered prayer can come in many forms and it is really nothing that should make you uncomfortable. We all entered prayer life with very open minds which is the only way you can have an effective prayer life. It made developing our own personal prayer life as well as our prayer life as a community a very comfortable and rewarding aspect of our experience together. Each of us brought our own perspective and style to prayer and it has made it an awesome experience. In a year where it seemed like we were always on the go and always had something going on, prayer provided that time for us to step back and take into perspective what it is going on in our lives.
As the finale to the year of service rapidly approaches, the next challenge is to determine how it is I will maintain the influence this year has had on me after the year has “ended”. However, the catch is the year never really ends. It is an experience that will always be a part of my life. It will be important to hold on to every aspect of this year; the goods along with the bads, the highs and the lows. Through this experience, many of those unknowns have become knowns. The questions I once had have been answered. Things that were once concerns to me are now comforting. As I face the departing stages of the year, I know all the things that happened this year will always be a part of my life.
Brett Horton, Chicago
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05.19.08
Posted in AV 2007-08 domestic at 9:57 pm by epenza
“I’m spending this year volunteering for the Augustinian Volunteers out in San Diego.”
“That’s great! What are you doing exactly?”
“I’m teaching at a K-8 grammar school.”
“Wonderful! What do you teach?”
“I teach physical education, computers, and language enrichment.”
“Oh [silence] you’re a PE teacher?”
This is just an example of one of the many conversations that I have had over this past year revolving around my volunteer work out in San Diego. It also includes the conversation that I have had with myself countless times again and again. Am I really a PE teacher? Did I really trade in four years of hard work to obtain a business degree for a year of dodgeball, tracksuits, and a well used whistle? How am I going to change the world by monitoring kickball games and shadow tag? I have struggled a lot this past year dealing with the credibility of my job position in comparison to my roommates’ work with the homeless and orphaned children. I struggled to understand the importance of my job and the work that I am doing. And I struggled in my daily interactions with my students. Sure, being a PE teacher sounds like it would be totally easy and fun. I mean, the teacher just plays games with the students all day, right? Everyone loved PE when they were children. It is the class that all students claim as their favorite subject and every person looks forward to spending fifty minutes a day playing mindless PE games. Right? I wish it were that simple.
The student population at St. Patrick’s School is an array of students from different socio-economic households. There are kids who travel hours out of Mexico to come to San Diego for school and some who simply have to walk down the street. When I first traveled out here back in August I was worried that my Spanish would not suffice for the after school program I work with in San Ysidro. I never imagined that I would need to use more Spanish to teach at St. Pat’s (well, not necessarily in order to teach, but in order to understand all those comments my students make on the side while I am teaching). The dividing line is clearly drawn between the student population and the intolerance, hatred, and judgment that seeps through the cracks of these children’s facades is unbelievable. Call me naieve, but when I first agreed to teach I worried about the proper way to discipline my students and if I was creative enough to write lesson plans that would evoke joyous emotion from my students (ha). I never worried about having to deal with the fragile emotions of a third grade girl who has been told by all her friends that they no longer like her. Or that I would have to break up a fight between two eighth grade boys who do not like each other simply because they speak two different languages. It never once crossed my mind that along with teaching over two hundred students I would also be dealing with all emotional baggage that is attached to each and every one of those students. Trust me, that is A LOT of baggage. But, I welcome it. Hey, I count myself as a survivor of middle school and I feel it is my duty as one who has survived the trauma of adolescence to instill the wisdom that I had to learn the hard way.
Throughout my months out in here in San Diego my attitude has changed toward my job. I have struggled to find the importance of my work and questioned the meaning of my volunteer year only to realize that it has been staring back at me since my first day at school. I have the opportunity to interact with over two hundred kids who will one day be the changing face of this world. As Whitney Houston once sang, “children are our future.” And I believe it is the teachers who are the ones molding these children and guiding them to live to their positive full potential to help create a better future. Now, do not get me wrong, I do not think that I am going to change the world simply by teaching students for one year. However, some of my students at St. Pat’s have never known their school experience to not have an Augustinian Volunteer in it. It has almost become a game to them to figure out who the new “Augie” will be for each year. They are exposed to something that has become a growing trend in this country: volunteer work. And they are only as old as fourteen (and as young as four). Imagine the first time that you were introduced to volunteer work, especially volunteer work as a living. To these kids it is as normal as night and day. What I can barely allow myself to dream about is that one day I will receive an email from one of my students informing me that they have decided to dedicate a year of their life to volunteer work (even better if they choose to join the Augustinian Volunteer family)! I realized that my simple presence as a person who has made the decision to dedicate my time to volunteer is an immense guiding post for any impressionable child. Teaching them how to be kind to one another, to look at life as if the glass is half full, and to realize that there are more important things to life then worrying about yourself are things I only know how to teach by acting that way myself. These kids absorb everything and if they can have a person in their lives that they trust as a mentor and a friend living a life dedicated to volunteer work then maybe they will absorb the positive idea of giving back to others.
I like to think of myself as not just a PE teacher but as a person who finally made an intelligent decision in my life and became an Augustinian Volunteer. I am not just teaching my students the proper way to do a sit-up but I am teaching them the proper way to respectfully treat other people. One day, maybe I will be lucky enough to know that I have inspired two hundred children to grow into two hundred adults working to make the world a better place. Until then, I will continue to blow my whistle and yell at kids for not paying attention and imagine the wonderful people that my students can grow to be if only they would listen to my advice to “play nice with everyone.”
Elizabeth Penza
San Diego ‘07-’08
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Posted in Uncategorized, AV 2007-08 domestic at 6:46 pm by lindsay meilton
I am trying to write this frustrating blog entry and I am already two (make it like five) weeks late still having no idea what to write. Writing is not my strong point. As the current volunteers know, I couldn’t write honestly about my faith journey until I was tipsy. So instead of getting drunk and trying to share with complete strangers again, I am going to say a prayer, flip open my journal, and share whatever falls out.
(Hope I don’t sound like an illiterate twit, but at least I am fairly certain you won’t judge me. Most of you know how challenging this is).
Thursday March 20, 2008
Brett surprised us today with a visit which was absolutely wonderful and it got me thinking about this whole experience. I am also flying to meet my family in Ohio for Easter which is why I’ve had this thought:
“What if at the exact moment you left earth, everything below changed and when you returned life was completely and absolutely different?”
That’s what happens when you choose to live and work in solidarity as an Augustinian Volunteer.
You come back down from your trip.
And everything around you is different.
Or are you different?
I’d argue until I am blue in the face that everyone else changed, not me. I didn’t change while I was on this ride. Or have I?
Maybe I have changed.
How can living in Lawrence with five strangers not change you? How can watching one leave not change you? How can growing to know and love the remaining four roommates not change you?
And how can smelling alcohol on a father’s breath as he drops off his 4 yr old daughter at 7:30 am for Pre-K not change you? How can hearing a cute innocent mouth say the “f” word not change you? How can watching a fellow aide withdraw her son from our class because she can’t afford the tuition not change you? How can fighting to safely take “treasure” a.k.a. glass shards out of a group of girls hands on the playground not change you? How can cleaning up throw up, pant wettings, and dead mice not change you? How can acting like a mother to 29 children who hug you and say they love you everyday not change you? And how can having to say “goodbye” to everyone you’ve turned into family for the past ten months not change you?
That’s where my journal entry ended and turned into doodles, but my roommate said I couldn’t end it like that. So, as more of a conclusion, I clearly have changed. It will be me, not my friends, family, or future colleagues who have been on this journey. And there are few of us who can truly understand it, but I am proud to have been one of those who had this opportunity for understanding and growth. I am armed with a knowledge and awareness now that nobody can ever take away because of what I’ve seen, heard and felt. How could this experience not have changed me?! How could this experience not change you?
Lindsay Meilton
Lawrence, MA Saint Mary’s Pre-K
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