Things are sliding, sliding in all directions

Time has been looking like a Dali painting in my reality; warped and disorienting. My features are being stretched by the simultaneous tugging and drudging of pace.

After February's short-lived existence, March seemed to boast in proud and full. It looked like a cavernous path ahead compared to a month that felt like darting through the top of Idaho. Part of this was due to the fact that April promises visits from mother and friends and significantly more exciting social excursions. And so, the days inched along. This last week feels like it has already been here threefold.

But while I live in this overwhelming impatience, I am also harboring desperate fear of each day that passes with no clearer vision of what is to come after AmeriCorps. I've been honored to have some amazing people in my life that have exemplified deep trust and intuition in letting things unfold in the  mysterious ways that they need to and so I try to follow in their footsteps, trusting that I will land exactly where I need to be.

But most things are easier said than done and this is no exception.

I've always been a dabbler. I've harbored a few feelings of frustration towards these tendencies, frequently feeling like I could have made better use of my time mastering one of my half-hearted endeavors with more dedication. And yet, I keep practicing the habit. Even now, I can't say I've committed to one true "calling".

Two selves visit me, both in waking and resting dreams.

One is uninhibited to conventional demands, fed up with striving to reach a comfortable bed of financial security and wanting to go reckless abandon back into the depths of creative spirit. This girl needs to be steadfast in her dedication to refine craftwork and needs to wholeheartedly believe in whatever artistic project she pursues. It needs to eventually have success because she still can't abandon the debt to her family.

The other wants to be able to obtain a real job in meaningful work. She wants to challenge her capacity for leadership and responsibility and empower her sense of wisdom and know how in community-based work. This requires settling and stability. This girl want to go back to school, another area where her interests flit.

Ideally, both of these lives merge in my journey. I just don't know which path is right for me to start on. With each choice I look at, I question my intention behind it. Do I choose one path for fear of the other or is it truthfully the path I feel suits me best at this moment?

For the past few weeks, I have been relentlessly scouring craigslist and other job sites, filling out applications for anything from non-profits to a Youth AirPark employee. With each application, it gets harder and harder to endure the repetitive typing as I wonder if it is even yet worth searching since I won't be free until July or August.

It is also the time of year where the team begins to talk about returners. This is the time that kids begin to pester more frequently: "Will you be here next year? What?! Why not?!" One kid even asked if I could get a job here if I can't do AmeriCorps, just so that I can stay.

Truth is, I'm so nervous of not having a plan yet, that I almost want to just stay a third year.

I know it would not fulfill all that I need. But I love this community and I love my kids and I don't want to be up a stream without a paddle.

But I'm continuing to wade by the water, dipping my feet in. I'm not much of a swimmer but fears are there for facing.

So again, I hope for time to speed up and for fruitful opportunities to wash up in its current.

Civic Engagement returns!

Once again, we've successfully engaged a handful of our wonderful adolescents in a weekend of laughing, learning and hopefully lasting leadership skills.

This token event is always emphasized as the weekend that wears us to the bone. Working over 50 hours in three days, it is common for AmeriMembers to spend the next week justifying zombie-like motivation by saying we are in recovery. I really don't think it is that intense but by Sunday, one is certainly ready to fall asleep in one's own bed, away from sleep-deprived cackling teens.

Still, this year left me feeling more intact than last for a few reasons.

First, the weather was much better. By that, I mean that it rained two of the three days. But this year, we didn't have the additional chill of wintery temperatures and the first glorious evening kept my spirits up even after the first rain drop fell.

Secondly, I was excited to have a few of the girls I was closest to be able to participate. It was interesting to see them in a different setting. I also got to make some new connections with girls from the other schools and overall, just felt like I had more opportunities to feel close to the kids than I did last year. This included observing how the Junior Counselors got involved this year as well. Instead of being general task-masters for us, our team did a great job at finding ways for the JCs to play active roles in activities.

Our young country girl Jeremy, dreaming of going to school 

This year, theatrics became the feature of camp. We opened on Friday with an impromptu skit to replace the "town history speaker" requirement. And the best activity of all was our Saturday night Dog Court, a camp tradition that Kerissa introduced us to. Throughout the weekend, it was the JC's job to collect stories of campers doing silly or embarrassing things. These were then read off by a diva-liciously fabulous-looking Jeremy The Plaintiff as charges against campers. The individuals were asked to come to the stand one by one to be put on trial while Lou and Ainsley donned their Lawyer hats to play devils advocate and AJ acted like himself in a trash can, making blasé judgment calls and silly impromptu sentences. It was hands down the best thing I've seen at any camp, ever.

Think Mrs. Doubtfire voice. 

And finally, the service project. When I think back to last year, one image pops into my mind. It was a photo of me on the last day, looking like I'd just been sedated. I remember sitting, slouched over a table as the school groups clamored together and the chaos of planning began. The way we organized planning sessions, it didn't feel like there was much for me to do and so I had all the more reason to remain in my delirium.

And the discombobulated planning reflected in the project's outcome.

This year, the topic choices came down to littering or bullying. The debates that were spurred during the "campaign" unit were intense. All of us AmeriCorps were doing our best to bite our tongues and let the kids have their own democratic experience but it was difficult. Taking a black and white approach, arguments for bullying claimed it was a far worse issue and one kid threw out a fabricated statistic about suicides which was then repeatedly used in others' arguments. 90% became the staple "factoid" for anything they wanted to talk about.

Those in favor of littering were equally one-sided. "Sure, you lose a family member or two. But pollution will kill our whole planet and this is the only one we have."

"Would you rather watch a penguin trapped in a can, or see a family member die?"

I cringed at each statement and Matt finally had to step in when one student made the insensitive claim of "Well, it's not like anyone is making the bullied kids kill themselves. They choose to" and "Why don't the bullied kids just move?"

It was ultimately voted upon with the results in favor of the bullying issue and the kids set to work planning an Anti-Bullying week. I facilitated the communications task force and felt much more effectively utilized than last year.

I'm more invested in seeing this project succeed, also. Bullying has been a problem not only for the kids in this area but for those of us trying to address it and protect youth. I think that it will be beneficial to the cause to have an event that is put together by the demographic it happens to rather than continuing to give bland lectures on how to prevent bullying.

Because the project had become bigger than usual, they have a whole two months to plan. I'm excited to see what comes out of it.

Speeding into Spring

Friday's meeting pulled me from my wallowing daze just in time. Spring has sprung and the lethargy of winter has quickly been replaced with weeks of non-stop activity. It is a much needed change of pace but I would be left in the dust if I were still stuck in the rut I'd dug.

March launched with Dr. Seuss' birthday on Monday. At Open Gym, I set up the craft tables with supplies for Truffula Trees, Dr. Seuss coloring pages, and painted One Fish, Two Fish hands. At the front, I'd made a big birthday hat filled with quotes and kept a set of Dr. Seuss trivia cards at the table which kids could try to answer for a treat.

"Green Eggs and Ham" snacks

The night was pretty calm but the kids that came really got a kick out of the questions and I found myself newly mastered in 16 facts of Dr Seussology by the end of the night as I asked the questions over and over. Some of the younger kids also made fish.

On Tuesday, I tagged along on the annual 7th grade trip to the Museum of Flight. I'd quickly learned from last year that this would not be an especially educational experience for me. The kids are rushed through the museum in 20 minute increments, covering barely event a fraction of what is on display. This year, the group was particularly squirelly and every time I thought I had a moment to digest some information, I would be prompted to bounce into the next room or floor to monitor the darting bodies.

Between the WWI, WWII, Space section and Air Park, I hastily tried to mold some semblance of learning:

-Italy was one of the first countries to utilize planes in military capacities.
-names and codes and insignias galore
-Machine guns caused an awful lot of mechanical trouble
-A gravity well simulates nothing more than a race when used by a bunch of middle schoolers
-Earth's atmosphere contains 10 million million particles per cubic centimeter of matter while space is a near perfect vacuum of 5-100 particles per cubic centimeter
-International passenger planes can be as spacious hotel lobbies these days
-These kids don't know what silence means

The kids of mission control in their space simulation to land on the moon

It was a rough day. In addition to the antsy attitudes and constant mediation needed, the trip went about an hour over time, getting me back into town around 5:30pm. However, I had a surprisingly pleasant bus ride back when Caylynn coerced me into sitting in the back with her. We joked around and enjoyed some good conversation about being the odd one out, career interests and motivation. Her theatrical friend also joined in, eager to learn and share about her hopes and dreams.

The recreated photo

Wednesday continued the crazy. Open Gym was incredibly eventful, kicking off with two reports from adults outside of the gym who saw dangerous and otherwise unruly behavior displayed by some of our kids outside. Within the first hour, we were calling parents to inform them of what we'd heard. Despite the chaos, the day had its perks. At 4:30, we rallied our caravan of kiddos and walked down to Blanton's grocery for a behind-the-scenes tour. For a mixed age group, the kids behaved rather well and each one found at least one part of the tour that sparked a question or nabbed their interest. The little ones most enjoyed the sink that turned on with foot pedals and the AmeriGuys got held up around the wrapper machine. At the end of the tour, Hal showed us a picture from 30 years ago when he used to give such talks and we all decided to recreate the photo. Then the best part of course: cupcakes and juice.

Frosting Face

Back at the gym, more unforeseen circumstances arose when I realized we'd locked the keys inside. After about a dozen phone calls, I finally got a number of someone with a second pair. It was nice enough out that the kids had no problem joining in a game while we waited. Once inside, I rounded everyone up for the story of Purim! I'd printed masks with the intention of AmeriCorps improvising as a read a shortened version of the tale. However, the kids had more of an interest in being the characters and so they ended up performing for us, Elli using her resounding drama voice to narrate. It was an absolute joy to watch. Lou and I unveiled our Hamentashen afterwards, which were a big hit for AmeriCorps but weirded the kids out. They're the weird ones if you ask me (Example: Taylor had gone on to smear the actual cupcake on his face after the above photo was taken)

Thursday is typically my most relaxed day but in keeping with the pace for the week, I made a trip to Olympia for an interview with the food co-op. Althoguh they're not actively hiring, I'm keeping all of my options open at this point. Plus, I was eager to get some practice in, as I hadn't interviewed for anything in quite some time.

I felt it went incredibly well. I spoke with two older gentlemen - Harry and Pat - in a cozy house on cushioned chairs while a woman named Elizabeth took notes. The conversation flowed smoothly with hardly a pause and at the end, I found I had lots to ask them as well. Harry and Pat had both been working there since the late 80's and had a lot of praise to offer about what the job has meant to them beyond the basic job description. "What this job has taught me about anti-oppression has been invaluable" Pat said. I left with a nice self-confidence boost and it seemed to help good interactions and positivity gravitate my way for the rest of the day. The summery weather didn't hurt either.

Finally Friday. But not the end of the week for me. After a team meeting to square away Civic Engagement plans, I had about an hour back home before turning around to take three pack wood kiddos back to Olympia for our Hands On Museum trip. Had it been another group of kids or another place, it may have felt like a long day. However, my kids were great and the museum was a ton of fun. On the way there, we played with my Rubber Neckers deck, played regular eye spy and chit-chatted. The kids didn't know what to expect from a museum trip but they were pleasantly surprised. The experience blew away Taylor's expectations of what "museum" meant. They climbed tree houses, threw balls into giant water shooters and odd contraptions, played hide and seek in a huge sand land, raced bikes around a track, climbed in emergency vehicles, built things and much more. Rounding them up here and there was a bit of work but overall, it went smoothly. Still filled with energy on the way back, we played more eye spy and then the kids hit the off-the-wall goofy stage right before conking out for the last 30 minutes of the drive.

And that brings me to this afternoon, about to leave to Morton for 5 hours of Teen Center. Keep on keeping' on.

Writing and Ribcages

In addition to an exciting return to Snowboarding, last weekend brought about the newly conceived Packwood publication: The Random Ribcage: Freedom for Freedom's sake. 

I've always been interested in trying to figure out how to integrate more conceptually involved activities into the recreational status quo of after school activities in the area we serve. Tutor tuesdays are a bust and while the refreshing craft offering here and there at Open Gym feels worthwhile, it isn't enough. I want to learn about these kids' creative brains! 

And so a couple of weeks ago, I put out a call to hold a writer's group with the hopes of making something for print. A surprising amount of kids signed up but on Saturday, an unsurprising number of those kids were no-shows. At first I was a bit bummed but with the Pass getting good snow, I knew a few had taken advantage and couldn't blame them. However, I managed to rope in my three book group kids and we ended up having a lively and engaged discussion. 

I'd made up a list of activities and printouts with the assumption that I might have to spearhead some inspiration with prompts and examples but the conversation ended up taking its own course. I began by asking the kids to share what kind of writing they liked to do and then we talked about all the different kinds of writing a publication could focus on. Ultimately, they decided they wanted it completely non-discrimatory, coming up with ideas for real-life interviews with our friend recently back from Africa, to outlandish rumor columns featuring (good-humored) locals. 

What ended up taking a good chunk of our first meeting was the name process. At first, everyone just shouted out their suggestions and we made a big list to vote from: Freedom Gazzete, Grab Bag Gazzete, and finally The Weekly Ribcage were our last contenders. We liked Ellie's unique Ribcage submission but there was no way we'd produce something weekly and we needed a filler word. That voting process took up the rest of the time. The adults in the room loved "eclectic" but the kids vetoed it and by the end, we'd settled: The Random Ribcage. 

I was thrilled to see the enthusiasm for the project and each of the kids had 110% interest in fundraising/getting sponsors to print for town-wide availability.

The following Saturday, our meeting got cut short but we did manage to complete an interview activity that we will use for writers' profiles in our first issue. I had the kids make their own list of questions and partner off to "interview" one another and then I took their pictures. I'd intended to have us share our own pieces of writing so as to get a sense for one another's style and while we didn't have the time, my preparation for the meeting had led me to dig out some of my own works from the archives. That was interesting.

The next time we meet, it is my hope that we start to get down to the meat of content. With months counting down to the end of service, I would at least like to see the first publication successfully take flight. Maybe then, it will plant a creative seed here that can outlast my stay...

8 eight 8!

EIGHT is the number of inches that was bestowed upon the slopes of our winter soldier White Pass this past Friday. EIGHT. The largest number I'd seen in one snow-fall listing for the year.

I had no more excuses. I had to go up.

And so on Saturday, daunted by my own determination, I dug out my house ornament of a snowboard and my cozy winter wear and headed up. A year ago, I was practically being dragged by my encouraging teammate Mary. Now with her across the country, I had only her pleading voice in my head, employing me to carry on. I was going up on my own for the first time.

Okay. She isn't all I had. The truth is, as nervous as I get between every run, the endorphins and adrenaline give me an undeniable mood boost. I had a blast. I did have to be down the mountain by noon for a Packwood writing group event I was trying to conceive but that gave me the perfect time frame to be introduced back into the swing of it. I did of course, have to get in one good tumble, which left floating like a leaf down the last of the slopes, anxious not to take a fall that would jostle my now pounding head.

Yet even ending on that note, I managed to rally for a second day on Sunday with Ariella. I was feeling the aches that morning and warned her that I may not be up for a full day, anticipating a Mary-like endurance for boarding. Fortunately, Ariella and I were on exactly the same page; she hadn't been up in 4-5 years and wasn't sure how much she'd be up for either.

Being her first time to the Pass, we stopped to take in the Mt Rainier view on the way. Smiles grew as we got closer and immediately jumped to some mild jitters as we caught the first glimpse of specks speeding down the mountain. We geared up took Great White directly up, bound for the expansion.

The day was, for the most part, amazing. Weather clear and sunny, Rainier in full view and our confidence growing incrementally with every run. I had a couple of toe side moments and an accidentally jump over a lump that I was particularly pleased with and Ariella was a speed demon on the icy terrain of Snow Devil that had me plopping and slopping and then just leafing it. It wasn't until we were coming down past Chair 5 that we had the day's big fall. Ariella landed...in some way that she can't quite figure...but her arm didn't like it. By the time we reached chair 4, she'd decided it was best we get a medic to take her down. At the top of the chair, we went to the medic lodge where toboggans were waiting and parted ways as I continued down to meet her in the lodge. The final verdict was a stretched muscle and they gave her a pseudo sling. I empathized as she started to note what mundane tasks were now suddenly a pain, recalling my own ridiculous injury from last year. Hopefully hers will be healing over the next few days though.

Still, neither of us are scared off. I may never be one for extreme sports but I can thoroughly enjoy being a fair-weather boarder. Even just being out there in those trees and among the mountain beauty is enough. Eight inches or no, we're getting back up there before this short season ends.

Growing pains

Today, I watched a short TED talk titled: Success is not a one-way street. It was a simple concept, and probably one I knew already. Probably one I knew already because I was guilty of falling into the one-way trap. The talk summarized how, if we approach successes as an end-point, we get lazy or disillusioned when we reach our success and in turn, they quickly plummet to failures. In the end, you have to keep aiming for the qualities that got you success in order to have sustainable, positive outcomes. 

It's the same with growth. One doesn't just learn maturity and then own it like a trophy. You have to keep practicing the characteristics and the lessons or you will lose sight of what you gained. Of course, we're all human and so you will lose sight at some points. And you will fail at some points. 

But those moments of failure and moments of immaturity are just as important for moments of teaching even though they can be uncomfortable or painful. 

This entry isn't a lecture though. I imagine most of you already have an innate understanding of this balance and have had plenty of those uncomfortable moments. 

This entry is due to a recent one of my own ventures into places we usually try to avoid. And that's exactly what I was doing. 

The last few months have brought about personal challenges with my health which I quickly let bleed into challenges with work, social dynamics with teammates and my mood. While I would try not to be self-pitying, one day of not feeling well enough to play games at the gym would spiral into weeks of a lost sense of purpose within the program as I'd watch my teammates run the show. A combination of misinterpreted attitudes on both sides grew worse, as my self-talk and my feeling of outlier-ship led me to choose a complete shut-down of feelings and communication. At a point, I even knew it was downright spite. And it all felt uncomfortably un-me. And yet, we all let the mounting discomfort fester. 

And then, like any fault line, it finally broke. Ainsley was the first to name the elephant at a breakout session meeting for the Open Gym: communication and my very apparent lack of involvement. Before I knew it, I had the water works going in front of half my team, as I struggled to explain the complexity of the level of emotional build-up that had led me to my most recent behavior and attitude. That's the problem with letting things fester. The purity of origin becomes clouded and you don't even know how things got where they are anymore. 

In the moment, I was hurt, shocked, and unable to process much beyond logistics. However, as the whole situation sunk in, it was as though a river had been opened to free the full process of emotional build up and filter it through me. I began to come to terms with my immaturity and felt a simultaneous sense of relief and anxiousness as I realized I was broken from my isolation but also that I would need to prove my better self from here on out. 

Maturity isn't a destination. The moment you think that you have risen above is the moment you walk into shadows. 

Fortunately, you usually emerge with even more tools and strength than before. 

Since our meeting, I've put forth a much more conscious effort to return to the communication and respectful, co-creating attitude that I believe in and I feel the efforts being reciprocated. By having to own the vulnerability of my shadows in this way, I've exercised my growth on a level I'd never really experienced before and strengthened it that much more. It can be an interesting mental trip to surrender as many foundations as I have in the past couple of months, but I think I am beginning to see the unsuspecting beauty that can emerge from such exploration.