Yes, Mary, YES.
It is officially the end of Week One: non-orientation AmeriWork, and the biggest difference compared to this point last year? HOURS.
Fearing my complete lack of qualification for being in an academic setting, I opted not to have any designated school days last year. With Open Gym not starting until three weeks after everyone else is already learning the names of students and jostling busy schedules, most of my hours were clocked at the Butter Butte, drinking coffee, blogging, writing letters and gleefully declaring my AmeriCorps title to any local that asked why I was bumming around Packwood, not knowing what that title would yet entail.
Sure, I came to have my work cut out for me and there were definitely days of juggling. But the first time is always trial and error and having seen the gym and what I could do during my free time, I worked up quite a list of ideas to occupy my pre-gym time for this year to come.
I also found it disconnecting to be removed from the school scene. So after shadowing a bit last year, I decided that I wanted a day or two in the elementary school.
Have I mentioned that I tend to create overwhelmingly ambitious lists of projects for myself?
When it's just me, no completion, no sweat. Frustrating, but I'll come back to it at another chapter.
But when I'm building on a community, the expectation becomes real whether or not they demand it. My own promises on projects become weightier when they're for Packwood.
Here's the buckle; when I made this list, started this community garden, and let my imagination run wild, I was not in school. How the kids manage to wake up at 6, go to school each day and then have after school sports until who-knows-when at night is inspiring, if not befuddling. I'm trying to keep up.
At the beginning of the week, I sort of lulled into Open Gym preparation, making some signs at home and re-thinking lists. Then on Tuesday, that got put on hold while I had my first full day at school!
White Pass higher-ups received a staff makeover this year, introducing a new principle and superintendent. So far, the elementary principle has been 1,000 times more approachable and accepting of ideas than the person I struggled to communicate with the year before. Flexible and full of that fresh-blood enthusiasm, coordinating a schedule that worked for both of us was far easier than it seemed to have been for Mackensie the year before and unlike the sense of alienation between school and AmeriCorps, he eagerly spoke of how integrated and included he wants us to be.
So after checking in with him on Tuesday morning and making a few schedule tweaks, I made my way to the end of the hall to survey the three 5/6 teachers and find out where I could be most useful. To my delight after talking with a self-sufficient Mrs. K, I was directed across the hall where she knew Mrs. S was desperate for aid. I'd already promised myself to her class during their literacy hour but she'd immediately struck me as a teacher I could respect and be inspired by so I was more than happy to give her extra time. Sure enough, her face lit up when I peaked in and asked if she'd like me there in the morning. "OHhh YEAH!" she exclaimed in her deepish, ready-to-roll voice. My direct involvement with the kids would be slim for the first week while things pick up the pace, she explained. But she reassured me that my added value to the classroom would become more apparent. So that day, she familiarized me with her class, showing me failing math grades and explaining the comprehensive growth evaluation testing that they were (impressively quietly) taking that week. A big focus would be showing improvement and getting them up to grade level. I guess I would be brushing up on my grade school math skills. And tracking students for tutoring after all, an added task I'd thought to avoid.
A couple of my kids from Open Gym tried to engage in conversation every so often, thrilled by the sight of a familiar face. I was sitting near J, reading over some of the class material. He'd finished his test and was now reading a book on sharks. "Melissa!!" he'd whisper "look at this!" and he would show me pictures of giant hammerheads, or the inside of a shark's stomach and brain, reading the description and chiming "Wow! I never knew that before!" I aimed for a balance of curiosity - he was learning and sharing new information was after all, the way to learn - but it was also quiet testing time. Still, J was a kid that always surprised me by his interest in learning when, at open gym, it was mostly basketball and shooting games. I was beginning to appreciate seeing more dynamic sides of the student's lives.
I left Mrs. S' class for the morning recess block - a lightning round 15-minute rotation amongst three age/class groups - which seemed to fly by. I found myself mainly posted up near the four-square court, knowing full well the potential for intervention, especially with the older kids. Last year, it had been discussed that I could do some activities at recess to promote better behavior, but on day one I was still observing, pondering how I could possibly integrate that into this recess system.
Back to the classroom of Mrs. S, she began their literacy hour with a daily class meeting which she used as the forum for topics of discussion such as self-responsibility etc. But regardless of topic, the daily staple was the 'Compliment Circle'. One by one, each student (and myself) was asked to give a compliment to the person two-over from their seat. Once we went around once, the kids were hooked on complimenting. J asked if we could go around and do every person. While Mrs. S was admirably denying the request for lack of time, "I" sitting to my right asked: "Did you go to college?”
“I did” I said
“How many years”
“Four”
“Holy s!” (I'm pretty sure he almost swore)
“I went to art school”
“I like art a lot”
Before we moved on, he'd raised his hand to ask if he could give out one more compliment. “Thank you Melissa for coming to our class and helping us with stuff and showing us ways to be respectful” (based on a compliment I'd given.)
My period after lunch had yet to be filled so I stopped by the last 6th grade teacher - Mr. M - to see if he thought I could be helpful during that time. He had just finished reading the criteria for a fire hall poster contest promoting Smoke detectors and the kids were getting their paper, the instructions still up on the board. I stood in the back, catching him throwing bemused glances my way as kids came out with questions like “Can I draw something that already happened…like when those planes crashed into those two buildings?” (to which he attempted to kindly state that he was pretty sure they had bigger problems than smoke detectors at that point) and "which is the front?" when they'd been faced with a paper that was identical on either side. Once they'd gotten to work, he came and checked in with me, wholeheartedly welcoming the help that hour. Normally it would be math. Goodie.
My final class that day had quickly come to be known by the staff as the "behavior class." I had been asked to primarily help a student in there who was very ADHD but once I observed a period, it became apparent that I would probably be assisting the overall group. Granted they were third grade, but they were a handful. During quiet drawing time, I was speaking with the teacher when we suddenly heard sobbing. That particular student had stopped drawing and was spontaneously mourning his deceased dog, which set his drawing buddy off on a story about her Grandma's death and her mom's health scare. The teacher refrained it from being a sharing circle and since they wouldn't be able to talk about it any longer, I suggested he draw a picture of his dog to share later; that maybe drawing your loved ones would be a nice way to think about them.
By the time I was going home, I was exhausted and unsure what I'd gotten myself into. I had a mental list of disagreements with the school system and a host of intimidating thoughts of how I would possibly end up being helpful. But thinking back to my first ever Open Gym, I withheld the judgment. I'd been terrified of being able to connect then and here I was coming back a year later.
Wednesday was much easier. I came to the school ready for anything, knowing I'd be leaving at lunch time on those days. In the morning, Kerissa and I helped pack bags at the food bank and got a new stock of snacks for the gym. I got to school for recess time and found myself to be more than just a set of eyes and ears. One of our more emotional kids A, had a breakdown at four square and I spent his session talking, impressed that I was able to get him to stop crying and construct full-sentence responses in a semi-conversation. The next group lured me over to the hanging rings to spot and cheer on the kids and for the older group, I was back at four square.
Reality hit that our opening day for the gym was quickly approaching and I was once again creating my own little construct of time in which I act like it doesn't really catch up to you...until it does. So once I got back to Packwood, I spent the next few hours in the gym re-organizing and moving shelving, putting up signs and finding more and more to add to my to-do list.
On Thursday, I had my first shift at the thrift store since being back and immediately landed the item I'd been wishing for: a food processor. A good ol' quality one at that, all attachments included. I stocked up on some halloween supplies for the gym and mostly managed to avoid clothes browsing because of the non-stop influx of items that kept our table jam-packed of things to label. Afterwards, I stopped by the senior center. A kind woman at the church the other day had given me a ride home and, after a very nice and surprisingly lengthy conversation about senior center gossip (everything has gossip in this town!), told me I should stop by on Thursday afternoons for...Mah Jongg! Playing on occasion with my mom and friends back home, I was pretty giddy about the idea. Understandibly, I got there to find out they play the chinese version which is sans the cards that list various sets and patterns you are allowed to make with your tiles for a win or "mah jongg". In this version, you simply need four sets of three and a pair. The woman teaching loved it with fervor and was a bit over-eager to assist in moves so I was pleased when she had to step in and play a round herself. She informed me of groups in town that play for money but I will probably just stick to hanging with the oldies.
After a few rounds, I left to meet Kerissa at the gym to finish up some final touches, check out paint colors for a closet-turned study project I've been determined to complete, and paint the sign in table. After some ups and downs in our communication, it was nice to work smoothly alongside one another and also get so much checked off the list for Open Gym. Afterwards, she joined me for a yoga class. Perfect way to end the day.
Finally, after a week of moving faster than my mind, the weekend arrived...and along with it, more work. Although I'd been trained in Low Ropes challenge course facilitation, I opted to join at least a part of the training weekend to get a refresher and be part of that team experience. I headed out on Friday morning and although I was leaving by Saturday evening to get back for Karaoke, I was glad I'd gone. Similar to last year, I found myself reflecting on a lot of thoughts of the ego and by the time I left I was needing a pause from the constant interaction of others' influences. But after being so on-the-go, it was nice to have the forum for deeper thought. And of course, it wasn't the same as last year because no one group is ever the same. This year, AJ was in charge of the training and constructed the day in such a way that we were able to see every element in the woods and really explore how each one functioned, something that we'd not had time for the year before. As a returnee, it was also interesting to watch the group slowly start to realize the limitations (or lack thereof) how an element can be used or framed; its fun to watch boxes break.
Keeping me on my toes until the very end, Karaoke had its own host of twists with all the tech-savvys away and the wires plugged in every which-not-to-be way. Karl didn't arrive until 11 to save the night and even then, the Mic shorted out every few songs. Then today I headed to the Packwood Community Picnic where I'd been assigned bouncy house duty. Imagining a shaded chair and a couple shout-out reminders to take things out of pockets and watch out for other's bodies, I figured a quiet day ahead. Instead, the photographer for the event didn't show and so I was recruited for more active duty. It was overly delightful to see all the kids and families I hadn't yet seen and connect further with the once I had but the whether had overextended its generosity for remaining nice for the event and the sun was boiling everyone alive all day. After a full three hours in the heat and another two wrapping up a last handful of Open Gym tweaks, I was exhausted.
Admittedly, I've had a couple break downs here and there. They aren't for lack of enjoyment - I love the interactions that I have been having amidst all of this work - and they aren't for loneliness. They aren't even for things that I miss. I think that they are just for lack of being able to process them. There my not be time for a good chunk of writing or a deep, meaningful conversation but inevitably, there is time for a good cry.
And I know it will balance. It always does, for some period of time or another. There is always change. As hectic as preparing for open gym has been, when I finally thought about it opening tomorrow, a wave of excitement hit me. And sometimes, if you only have time to process a fleeting sensation, that's enough to know you are where you're supposed to be.
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