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′
Permalink
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
Permalink
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
Permalink
Posted in 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
Permalink
05.07.08
Posted in AV 2007-08 Domestic at 6:56 am by lmcnamee
2342 Andrews Ave. serves many purposes here in the Bronx. A place for recently-arrived immigrants to learn English, complete with childcare services. A multifaceted resource for immigrants on the path to U.S. citizenship. A safe haven for public schools kids during the “at risk” hours after school dismissal and before dinner time. A coveted stoop on our lively block with a view of the local barber shop, whose slogan I borrowed for my blog title. A third-floor apartment for the Augustinian Volunteers to call home.
At our site, we are fortunate enough to live within the community that we serve. Regularly, we pass familiar faces while out and about — we are greeted by the kids that we interact with daily, we have brief conversations with the nuns/other employees that live and work within the Tolentine-Zeiser compound, and we are recognized by the parishioners as a part of the community for our 10-month commitment. We have come a long way adjusting to our environment since our arrival in August. That said, five white volunteers do not blend into this neighborhood. We attract a lot of attention (good and bad) based on our appearances. For the first time in my life, I am living within a population comprised of Dominican, Mexican, Puerto Rican, Cambodian, Vietnamese, and Eastern European families. I have learned about these cultures, heard stories about the places they call home and the people they left behind, and gained an overall appreciation for the diversity of the Bronx.
As part of my job placement, I commute into Manhattan on Thursday mornings to attend NGO (non-governmental organizations) briefings down at the United Nations. I have begun to expect my weekly dose of culture shock as I shift from the noisy, bustling streets of the Bronx to the hurried, business-like atmosphere of midtown Manhattan. The stark socioeconomic contrasts between these two boroughs astound me regularly. 30 minutes on the 4 train separate some of the most prestigious hospitals in our country from families with grossly inadequate health insurance, the most expensive real estate in our country from families struggling to pay rent in overly crowded apartments, and some of the most competitive schools, complete with state-of-the-art facilities, in our country from understaffed, ill-equipped schools. The glaring divide, although frustrating, only reassures me of my decision to volunteer here.
During my time at the UN, I have gained valuable exposure to many global issues that I knew little to nothing about beforehand. Learning about climate change, disarmament & nonproliferation, human rights violations, disaster relief efforts, child mortality & maternal health statistics, to name a few, have made me a more informed, more concerned global citizen. I have had the opportunity to attend educational briefings with informative, passionate speakers, some of the most memorable include: Eliminating Stigma and Discrimination for people living with AIDS/HIV, Remembering the Transatlantic Slave Trade, Autism Awareness, Investing in Women and Girls. Through my time at the United Nations, I have learned that generating awareness is the first step towards making progress on any issue.
Another daily challenge for me is moderating an after-school program for local public school kids ranging from 4th to 6th grade. Over the past eight months, I have (slowly) gained the friendship of my kids, but fight to earn a sense of respect. I now wholeheartedly understand the plight of so many teachers, parents, and guardians - thanks for not giving up! Despite regular bouts of cursing, racial slurs, and general disobedience, I see potential in these kids. They ask me questions about getting into college, talk about what they want to be when they grow up, and regularly bombard me with questions about my life (When are you going to have kids?), my faith (Where do you go to church?), my background (Where did you get those blue eyes?), my opinion (Who are you voting for president next November?), and my preferences (Do you like the Yankees or the Mets?). You name it, they have asked it. There is rarely a dull moment in Room 2, as they have few inhibitions. Through these students, I see the deficiencies in the public school system. One of my students has trouble keeping up with social studies because she regularly gets pulled out of that class to attend her ESL lessons. A handful of students have been held back a grade level, usually due to behavioral problems, and as a result, are not challenged by and disinterested in their current lessons. I have heard stories of weapons being brought into schools, drugs being sold in their apartment buildings, and violence they have witnessed at their schools or on their streets. Thankfully, I also see the accomplishments of the public school system - like the excitement about ballroom dance lessons recently integrated into inner-city schools, the anticipation weeks in advance for field trips to the Bronx Zoo or one of the many museums that NYC has to offer its students, or the occasional student eager to show me their improved report card they are proud to take home that grading period. In all, my time in after-school has been a real glimpse into the lives of inner-city kids and the unique challenges they face.
Amongst unpredictable weeks, Monday nights are a stable part of out community life. Every Monday, we go next door to St. Nick’s rectory to share a meal with the Augustinian community. In true Augustinian form, the weekly ritual starts with a “happy hour” of sorts. Maria, their Dominican cook, has earned all of our respect with her culinary skills. Sean rarely leaves without a new cooking tip for his next meal. She has us all hooked on fried plantains and undoubtedly broadened our culinary horizons (the tripe stew is the most memorable dish to date. Danielle, our former vegetarian, was less than thrilled about stomach lining turning up on the menu that night). The combination of five volunteer personalities and Fr. Bob, Fr. Joe, Fr. Rich, and Fr. Bill always makes for an interesting evening. Our conversations span the results of the latest sporting event to the presidential election to the favorite T.V. show in the apartment that week to that latest scandal haunting the politicians in New York to possible medical care for undocumented immigrants. They have made us feel welcomed since our arrival in August. I feel like we have temporarily become an integral part of their community, as have all the groups before us. The dining room walls are decorated with photos of the BX groups that went before us. I look forward to coming back to see our picture in the years to come and know I always have a place to stay in the Bronx.
A personal unrest led me from the working world to my year of service. As the year winds down, I feel lucky to have come from where I did; fortunate to have seen and learned what I have this year. My perspective is forever changed. I am grateful to have spent this time with the equally restless hearts of Danielle, Katie, Lauren, and Sean. I will end with words that I hope to carry with me beyond this year:
“Examine yourself honestly again and again. Put yourself to the test. Do not be content with what you are, if you want to become what you are not yet. For where you have grown pleased with yourself, there you will remain.” ~Saint Augustine
Lauren McNamee
Bronx, NY
Permalink