02.08.08
“Soap bubbles!”
“Danielle, don’t forget to sign Tufts’ acceptance form and send in the deposit.”
“Um, yeah, I am not going Mom.”
“What?”
“I am going to take the year to do volunteer work. I am going to be an Augustinian Volunteer.”
If you asked me on this date one year ago what I would be doing after graduation, my response would have been, “Hopefully going to graduate school for school psychology.” Oh, how things changed over the next month. Clearly I did not attend graduate school, despite my acceptance. I felt that I was being called to something else. I was doing a lot of volunteer work in college and it was what filled my life with joy and passion. On a retreat at the end of February, an Augustinian friar, who is a friend and mentor of mine, said to our group, “Volunteering is not just something you do, it is a part of who you are.” Those were the final words I needed to realize what I should really be doing after graduation. I wasn’t called to graduate school this year, God wanted me to take this time and utilize my gifts to help others in need.
So, here I am in The Bronx, New York. I wake up every morning, walk down the stairs into my classroom here at St. Rita’s Immigration Center, and am greeted by 10-20 smiling infants and toddlers. Well, most of the time they are smiling. Although I sometimes get frustrated with the monotony of my days, the kids never cease to amaze and amuse me. I have children ranging in age from 4 months to 3½ years old, which allows me to watch life developing in front of my eyes. I see kids learn to talk, walk, feed themselves, and (my favorite) potty train! For the last hour of each of my two 2½ hour classes, I take 3-6 of the oldest children to a separate room to attempt to teach them basic learning skills such as the alphabet, numbers, shapes, and colors. Some days this is the easiest hour of my day, and sometimes it is the hardest. It all depends on the energy and attention level of my kids that day and how ambitious of a project I attempt with them.
I feel like a proud mother when I say this, but I truly love all of “my babies” (yes, that is really how I refer to the kids in my classes). My heart melts every time one of them runs up to me and hugs my legs or holds out their arms to signal that they want to be held. I love when I can get 1-year-old Galilea to smile, because she can usually be found waddling around rather expressionless. I love that 3-year-old Cesar says “black” now instead of “plops”. I get overly excited whenever one of my older students really learns a new letter. I love that 3-year-old Stefanie hunches when she comes in and says good morning. I love that 2-year-old Luis, one of twelve new students I got this week due to a new cycle of ESL classes, comes in waiting for me to pick him up so that he can bury his face in my shoulder while he cries for 15 minutes, and is then ready to play. I can’t help but laugh at the fact that the very random hand-washing song I made up in September is now a daily ritual with many of the kids. It goes something like this, “Rub, rub, rub. Rub, rub, rub. Rub, rub, rub. Soap bubbles!” Ask me about it sometime and I will sing it for you.
I wish I had as many happy things to say about my after-school class, but it is much more frustrating for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love these kids too, but third and fourth graders test my patience in a much different way than toddlers do. I have less than ten students, and they still drive me crazy, but I show up every day and I do my best to get them to do their homework and help them if they need it. Despite only having several students, there are a lot of different personalities in a small room and it takes a lot of energy for me to cater to each of them. Sometimes I feel as though I am not doing much for these kids because they don’t finish their homework and I spend half of the time telling them to quiet down, but then I remember something from a psychology class I took in college. The most dangerous time for kids who are at risk for criminal behavior is 3-6 on weekdays because it is when they are on the streets walking home and many have no one waiting for them once they get there. At least I know I provide these students with a safe place to be for a portion of this “at risk” time period.
I feel blessed to have such amazing roommates. Whether I need to vent about a hard day or I have a bunch of happy and random stories about my babies, I know I can turn to them. Sometimes I am amazed that I have only known Katie, Lauren, Lauren, and Sean for five months. You never know what you are going to get when you start a new job, in a new city, and move in with four strangers. All things considered, I feel very lucky. I have had some of the best conversations with my community, mostly during prayer. We have discussed homelessness, poverty, politics, and our struggles with our spiritualities. Some of these are conversations I may never get the chance to have again after this year is over.
I cannot imagine being anywhere else this year. I love my job, my community, and this city. Despite being the clear minority in this city, I feel so at home here. I know this seems weird, but I love the hustle and bustle of this city. There is a lot of conversing and yelling (often in Spanish so I don’t know what is being said), many car horns, and there are people out walking somewhere ALL of the time. For some people, the noises can be a distraction. I, however, find it to be a great reminder of where I am and it keeps me in a constant state of reflection about this year. I have had a lot of inner turmoil about many different aspects of life over the past five months, but then I hear the noises, I remember why I am here, and that gives me a sense of inner peace.
I hope the rest of my fellow AVs have been able to find a sense of inner peace during this first half of the year. If you have not, I encourage you to take some time to yourself and really reflect on the past five months. Remember why you started this journey, discover what you have learned, and make some goals for the next five months. Take advantage of the short time we have left- I know I will be.
Danielle Demoree- Bronx, NY