Saying Goodbye

I haven't written in a long time, I know. Like I always do, I got caught up in the hustle and bustle of life and ignored my blog. The longer I go without updating you all, the harder it is to catch up. I feel like I have to try to quickly sum up the first forty minutes of Inception to someone who wandered in mid-movie.

How do I catch you up on everything that has happened?

How do I explain the craziness of living in an intentional community of six? The fun, the laugh riots, the arguments, the frustrations, the connections. How do I paint you a picture of these people? We have been side by side with each other through so much: happiness, sadness, sickness, health... we are a six-person married couple.

These people that were complete and utter strangers, who I only knew from minor (okay, major) Facebook stalking I now feel like I have spent years with. What a phenomenon!

How do I take you through the St. Louis adventures?? This city be CRAZY! There were the ice storms that left the sidewalks and streets slick as an ice rink. Those were the months of bruised butts. Then there were the tornadoes with the eerie wailings of the warning sirens and the crackly radio voice telling us to get into our basement. Of course we just stood outside in the storm and filmed everything on our flipcam. Now it is summer. It is 90 degrees and our AC broke. Oh well. These will be the months of sweat, mosquito bites, Chigger bites (so bad!), sunburns, and constant unattractiveness (due to the above).

We have traveled the midwest to party at various JV houses (Smashville, Detroit, Milwaukee, Chi-Town) and we will bring them all here to STL for the 4th of July weekend of fun!!!

I have no clue how I am going to sum up my time at Vincent Gray.

Today was my last day of teaching. I made it through four quarters and four weeks of summer school. During summer school I was the only one teaching, so that allowed for a lot of fun. The first session was Healthy Relationships and the second was Speech and Presentation. Both classes were a blast! We had some intense discussions and many hilarious moments.

These students are something else. I can't believe I won't be seeing them again next year. I won't be here to see Angeletta's baby girl when she arrives in October, I won't see what kind of hats Anthony is wearing for the new school year, I won't see the new poets or the new troublemakers. The hardest thing is knowing I probably won't be able to see some of my favorite people graduate next year.

Teaching here has been the hardest thing I have ever done. I have learned and taught so much. Definitely more than I thought I was capable of coming in.

I taught them how to write a paragraph; they taught me how to do the Cat Daddy.

I taught them about recycling; they taught me about how things are done in the projects.

I taught them that trust is possible in a relationship; they taught me to be real.

It is so weird sitting in this empty classroom and realizing that I won't be here again when it is full of students talking, fighting, laughing, working, taking out their hair extensions... I start feeling a bit territorial. I don't want this new volunteer to sit at my desk and use my pens. I am afraid they will take down my posters or my Tibetan prayer flags. What if they erase my B.I.G quote from the whiteboard!?? See? I'm goin' a bit crazy with this whole last day thing.

I guess all I can leave you with are a couple pictures (I wish I had taken more) and somestudent quotes. And maybe one last chorus of the Black National Anthem, now that the students and staff that I have belted it out with have left for the summer.

Lift every voice and sing

Till earth and Heaven ring

Ring with the harmony of liberty

Let our rejoicing rise

High as the listening skies

Let it resound, loud as the rolling sea

Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us

Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us

Facing the rising sun

of our new day begun

Let us march on

Till victory is won.

Marlon and Sergio prepare to race at the student picnic in St. Louis!

Timetra (TT) and Kearron have some bro/sis rivalry going!

Marlon, Juan, and LaMarcus

The girls! Lateisha (LaLa), LaToya and a friend

Oh Summer School...

David, Josh, Sergio, DeAvonie, Angeletta, JJ, and Marlon

So this is what happens in my classroom during 10 minute breaks...

I will miss this.

_______________________________________

QUOTES

Ryan and Trevonte: *singing while working* It’s a hard knock life for us, it’s a hard knock life for us!
Me: …
Ryan: Come on Ms. Millie, you didn’t know black kids could sing Annie, did you?

JJ: Hey, my girl tellin’ her granny ‘bout the baby today.
Me: Wow, JJ, are you nervous?
JJ: Yeah, but we’re takin’ her granny out to the steakhouse, so hopefully she won’t be too mad.

DeAvonie: What’s that Barbie doll’s name that girls play with?
Josh: Um, Barbie.
DeAvonie: Yeah...

Victoria: Ms. Millie, why you holdin’ Toya’s baby? Your man needs to give you your own baby.
Millie: No he doesn’t.
Victoria: Well, someone does. Just tell him it’s his.

Anthony (running into my room): There’s a hot new shawty here! I need to fresh up!! (grabs my scented oil air freshener sticks and rubs them on his neck). I'm gone!

Josh picks up one of my scented oil sticks and licks it.
Me: ...how was that?...
Josh: Not good...

*while playing Taboo*
JJ: It’s a type of weed!!! WHITE weed, brotha, WHITE WEED!!!
David: WIDOW!
JJ: Yeah! Count those points!

Josh: Sometimes I’m afraid that I won’t start tryin’ to have kids until I’m too old and then I won’t be able to have any.
David: Don’t worry. When you’re old some girl’ll come knocking on your door sayin’ she had your baby ten years ago.

*More Taboo*

JJ: *looking at the card* Oh! Girls give this to you!
David: Gonorrhea!
JJ: YES!
Me: Let me see that card!...That says granola, JJ.

Sergio: Ms. Millie, someday imma bring you in a nice, fat hamburger. And you’ll never eat that yogurt and granola stuff again. Your body will be so happy.

Me: What do you want to write your narrative on, Mark?
Mark: Probably the time my cousin and I got caught bustin’ into people’s rides...wait...who’s gonna be reading this narrative?

MARDIS PARTY GRAS!!!

All I can say, is JVs know how to CELEBRATE!!!

Oh the things they say...

Me: Anthony, you’re not in this class. Where are you supposed to be?

Anthony: I gots to check in on you, Ms. Millie. Make sure I don’t need to kill sum’n for you...like...a mouse...

Written on TT’s vocab worksheet: “Spontaneous definition: Unplanned. Example: Being without a sex organ.

Rob (on Anne Frank and her boy interests): This gal be freeeeak-ay!

Rashonda: Is you gonna gonna take my phone? Cuz if you is, imma need you to check my texts, okay?

Mariah: Ms. Millie, I finna knock Billy.

Me: Can you wait till after you leave my class?

Mariah: Billy, Ms. Millie say she finna knock you n' mess you up for me after class!

Travion: Damn, if I had to ask a girl’s father to date her I’d never get no damn girl!

Me: Miyai, you can not trade me a pack of condoms for a pencil!!

Miyai: Why not?? You know I'll need them back.

Me: How was your Halloween, Chica?
Chica: Good! I went to a costume party!
Me: Awesome, what did you dress up as?
Chica: Well, it was a Bras n’ Thongs party, sooo...

Rob: What’s this “star-crossed lovers” shit? Stars don’t mean shit.

Lala: Ms. Millie, you know those Shakespeare double entendres you were telling us about? Well, that one just went over your head.

Me: Mark, did you just throw a recyclable in my trash can?

Mark: No, this is a special kind of soda can that is made from this weird non-recyclable material, I swear, it's made out of this stuff that can't......yeah, I did.

Victoria: Ms. Millie, have you found out that your boyfriend be cheatin' on you yet?

Me: .....

Victoria: *shakes head* Only a matter of time...

Derek: Ms. Millie, have you ever been with a black man? Would you ever be with a black man? Is the answer to #3 an adverb? Do you think your boyfriend would ever be with a black girl? Would you ever go with a black girl??

Halfway In: The Good, the Bad, and the oh so Ugly...

Wow. So much for my New Year's resolution to write more often. I have the most difficult time trying to pin myself down in front of my computer and sort through my scattered thoughts. You would think after years of good ol' Jesuit meditation, examens, introspective reflections and journaling I would be better prepared to processes my thoughts and experiences, but no. It is definitely a struggle. For one, here I am, halfway in, and much of what I am doing is the same. There is nothing drastically new or exciting to thrill everyone with. I still get up every morning, unlock the school, sort through my collection of lighters, jewelry, ipods, and cigarettes that students trade me to use my pens for the day. I still freak out about how on earth I am going to manage my Literature class and how I am going to get the concept of “following the prompt” through to Anthony. I still spend Spirituality Nights (Tuesdays) and Community Nights (Thursdays) every week with my beloved House. I still get stuck catching up on Glee and Modern Family every weekend instead of voraciously planning lessons and grading essays like I am certain on Friday afternoon that I will.

I am halfway in and I have learned so much but am somehow still completely unexpert. I am still a bit like a runaway train. I am propelling in a certain vague direction, but I have no clue where I will end up or how to regain control. I just have to trust that through guidance and openness I will get the best out of this already irreplaceable year.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is one of my boyfriend's favorite movies, so I have been obligated to watch it several times. I often feel like teaching is full of the good, the bad, and the ugly. There is THE GOOD, which is what makes me love what I am doing and picks me up like caffeine. The good is when I see Miyai begin to use internal rhyme in her poetry, when Mark actually shows up for the tutoring time we scheduled, and when I am actually somewhat organized. The good is when students stay after school to watch Remember the Titans with me; when Ryan brings in the scrapbook his girlfriend made him for Valentine's Day to class to show me (though there are some pictures I would have been okay with not seeing); when I convince Ernesia to enter an Illinois essay contest; when Derek tells me he'll miss me when I leave; when Victoria gives me a picture to remember her by; when I drive Sergio home and we chat about life. I love the interactions I get with all my students. I love that Kearron ran in at 8:30am on Monday morning to bash the Steelers in front of me. I love that TT and I talk about books we like. I love that they all laugh when a real “burner” accidentally comes onto my R&B Pandora station and I rush to change it. I love when the girls try to put my hair in braids. I have enjoyed countless after-school Scrabble games (sometimes unnecessarily competitive!), I have had the pleasure of reading some beautifully powerful poetry and I have had students open up to me about the struggles they are desperately trying to work through. I suppose I even technically love the difficult interactions because they have never failed to teach me about a weakness in myself or how I handle some things. As frustrated as I get, there is no denying that I am growing.

Spring has been showing up in St. Louis, though she can't make up her mind if she is staying or going. The sun and warm weather has made everything in my life seem more positive and less stressful, which has been particularly nice in the classroom. I'd like to have some of my class activities outside to get myself and the students out in the sun, but there is really only a dismal asphalt lot behind the school where we could do anything. May I can finagle some of my classes trips to the park...

However, while teaching so far has been fun and beautiful, there has also been THE BAD. Teaching and preparing for six different classes every single day without any teaching background has been draining some weeks. I have heard gruesome horror stories of first year teaching, and this year is no rosy exception. I have felt my share of insecurities when students refused to listen to me, complained about too much work or too many rules. I have had days where I felt so strained that all I could do was toss the Scrabble board on the table or pop in a Langston Hughes documentary. I have had days where I wrote up so many students and confiscated so many phones in my morning classes, all the while trying to keep a lighthearted and positive demeanor, that come my after-lunch classes my disciplinary energy was shot. I tried to facilitate a conversation about homosexuality, optimistic that my students would be more open to the idea if only we all talked about it, only to be confronted with the most extreme homiphobia I have ever witnessed. I have felt bitter at the lack of resources at my disposal (no field trips, extra budget money, or available activities in the area for students) and I have questioned teaching as a career. In fact, I am still questioning it. I am so thankful that I am doing it this year, but I also wonder if maybe there is a different field where I would be more at home.

Finally, there is THE UGLY. East St. Louis has some joys and some incredible people and stories, but it also has a violence and culture of revenge that is second nature to many of its inhabitants. The local East St. Louis news is guaranteed to present me with at least one story of a homicide or shooting a day. Several young people have been shot and killed in the past few months. Two cousins of some of my students were shot outside of a gas station. A Vincent Gray graduate was shot and killed. My advisee, Robert, was shot five times while at a known drug house. He is partially paralyzed, but may return to Vincent Gray next quarter. I remember once, in elementary school, while on a field trip to an indoor swimming pool, one of my classmates jumped into the deep end and almost drowned. He ended up being alright, but for days I and my fellow students were somber and spoke in reverent whispers about him. At Vincent Gray, the students almost casually informed me that Lil' Rob has been shot up. They were upset, and they missed his quiet jokiness, but his injury was seen as “one a' those things.”

East St. Louis also offers little educational or positive experiences for high school students. There are no big college campuses for them to picture themselves on. There are no safe public parks or recreational centers for them to have fun at. There are no museums or fun/educational field trip spots. Everything looms tauntingly on the other side of the river. Everything I have considered trying to convince my students to go to has been in St. Louis and not anywhere near their homes. Vincent Gray itself, while being an amazing school with an even more amazing staff, is a dingy concrete slab of a building, located on a busy street with a teeny parking lot with a basketball hoop leaning precariously in it. A mini mart is our neighbor. The crazy girl inside me wants to throw a colorful mural up on the school and buy some outdoor sports equipment for the lot, but those are pie-in-the-sky at this point.

I suppose I should have ended with THE GOOD so as not to be such a downer, but all three, THE GOOD, THE BAD, and THE UGLY are all things I have encountered this year with teaching. I have cried out of joy, frustration, and hurt. I have put more work into this than I have ever put into anything, and though I am still struggling to put together the pieces and figure out where my God is leading me in the future, I would not trade this in for anything. So keep the Lil' Boosie ringtones blaring, students! Keep the whiteboard tagging, the lap-texting, and the incessant questions about my sex-life coming, 'cause I'm here for six more months!!!!!!

Poverty and Wealth

The poverty in the US is such a unique kind of poverty. Nothing really exists quite like it in other countries. We know what it looks like to be poor in Africa, India, South America, etc., but what about here?

Now that the temperatures are creeping below 20 degrees, I haven't been walking as much. Instead I have been grabbing the bus between metro stations, school, and home. Riding the bus is like being a part of a little community (as my housemate, Ryan, is always reminding me). I love riding the morning State Street bus in East St. Louis. I have heard the craziest stories and the most colorful swearing ever. I have had to get used to hearing F-words yelled back and forth across seats in casual conversation. I have had to realize that sometimes people will try to smoke on the bus and because I am white, I will always be asked if I have a couple bucks. I have learned that here people scream and swear at their kids when they are angry. It is a different world. Once I was on that bus with an older white woman who was headed to the District 181 building right next to Vincent Gray. The both of us had just watched as a frustrated teen mother slapped her little girl and told her to "shut her damn mouth." As we exited the bus together she leaned over to me and said, "if she didn't want the baby she shouldn't have had it. No wonder they're all stuck living over here, not going to school."

Fr. Greg Boyle says that we should "stand in awe at what the poor have to carry rather than stand in judgement at how they carry it." I have learned a lot about poverty in the time that I have been a JV in East St. Louis. My students may not initially seem like they are in poverty. They all have smart phones and ipods. They wear designer clothes and designer cologne (too much of a good thing, kids). They get their dreds and their weaves redone every other week and the girls constantly have their acrylic nails reapplied. They sport new tattoos whenever they can get them. They constantly go to movies and clubs with covers.

But, when you look closer you realize that their families live in collapsing projects with big-screen TVs in them. They eat hot-chips for breakfast and Starbursts for lunch and never see a problem. They are afraid to walk alone and to even go to a park with friends. Their dads, uncles, brothers, and friends are in prison. They have babies when they are 17. Some of them still believe that if you shower first, it will prevent STDs. Their idea of a high score on the ACT is most peoples' idea of a low score. They work overnights to provide for their fatherless families, babies, and baby mommas. They believe that every romantic relationship involves cheating at some point and that expecting loyalty and trust is expecting too much. They are used to their playgrounds and sidewalks being covered in broken glass, crack pipes, and garbage.

Their poverty is the poverty of opportunity and expectation. East St. Louis is a place you try to get out of, and if you do, you don't come back for anything. You are not expected to do anything phenomenal. Or even anything less than phenomenal. After enough of being aware of your severe lack of opportunities, it is easiest to lose all motivation.

Theirs is a poverty of mistaken priorities and values. Mark (19), Derek (17) and I were talking about teen pregnancy one day. Mark has a daughter and Derek has two sons. They said that girls try to get pregnant to make sure that their man will stay with them and take care of them. If she has his baby, he won't leave her. When I asked why teen males want to get girls pregnant, their answer came like a no-brainer: "you know you are a man if you have a kid."

When I was in English 101 at EWU and we were writing our narrative essays, we were all writing about family events, fun/meaningful things we did in high school, trips we'd taken, siblings that had been born, etc. In my Vincent Gray essay class, Rashonda and Ernesia are writing about having their first baby, Deanthony is writing about the day his uncle was shot, Jasmine is writing about how she almost got run over by a car, Juan is writing about breaking his arm after flipping off of trashcans with his friends in the projects, and MarQuesha is writing about how she was stabbed three times and lost a lung.

This community baffles me with its poverty.

But, almost simultaneously, it floors me with its richness.

On Sunday we had our January graduation for the 5 students who graduated in the first half of the school year.

Chica, a delightfully fun and sincere woman who plans on training to become an LPN.

Eric, a huge jokester who is an incredible singer and musician, brought rows and rows of his proud family to the ceremony.

Tiffany, graduating at age 22 with a 4 year old son, is continuing school in August.

LaToya, an adorable and outspoken girl, shorter than me, made it through her last classes extremely pregnant and had her baby (a girl named Jamaya) on New Year's Eve.

And lastly, Travion, who stayed after school with me every day for two weeks in order to pass his graduation essay test, who came back to get his diploma at age 23 after three years out of school and is already scheduled to begin classes at Forest Park Community College next week to embark on his path to become a nurse.

Travion's unstoppable tears as he thanked God, family, teachers, and friends became my tears as I wonder how I am supposed to ever leave this beautiful community.

Ringing in 2011...

...with a blog post! Which is good, because how can I keep praising the art of journaling to my students if I myself can't walk the walk.

Whew! Christmas and New Year's in Washington State have both come and gone and here I am back in St. Louis. Even though I was only home for a little over a week, the difference between my life here and my life back home is glaringly different. My reminder came when I found myself, the only white person, standing in 27 degree weather waiting for the appallingly behind-schedule bus. After I gave up on public transit and dragged myself and my luggage to my house by foot, I again was reminded that I was not in Kansas anymore by the chilly house and the two-week-old leftover veggie lasagna for dinner. Instead of being greeted by a soft, fluffy towel when I stepped out of the shower, I was confronted by a mean centipede. The outlets in my room don't work, so I plug my phone into Gabby's room's outlet, reminding both of us that simple living is about sharing space.

Today, I finish up my lesson plans for tomorrow (first day of my third quarter!), brew myself some tea, pick out my teacheriest outfit for tomorrow morning and reflect on my time at home. Being chauffeured back and forth between Spokane and Seattle by my devoted boyfriend, I was able to spend good time with friends from high school, church, college, and my family too! I got to see all of my little brothers' new video games and lego sets and was there to witness my 16 year old brother, Paul, pass his driver's test. My mom, my sister Julia, and I watched White Christmas together while sipping warm drinks (a long standing tradition). I shared a room with my 3 year old princess sister, Mary, and we bonded every morning at 8am when I helped her climb out of her crib to come cuddle with me on my futon. We talked about all manner of girl things, like princess movies, dresses and shoes, and tea parties.

After various lovely dates with friends and extended family, I ended my trip in Seattle where I was blessed enough to party from 2010 to 2011 with good friends and friends who are really pretty much family.

I remember in August when Michael dropped me off at security at Seatac for my redeye flight to the unknown midwest. I definitely cried for most of the flight and almost all of my layover. I was leaving my home and the people I loved and heading into who-knew-what. I was miserably trying to think positively, but I was so nervous and lonely in that airport.

Yesterday, I was still sad as Michael said goodbye, but this time I had a family that I was coming home to. I don't know how we did it, but our JVC St. Louis community is just like a family. I simply can't wait till Gabby, Dayna, Ryan, Chino, and Ari all get home so I can see them again and hear all about their trips home! I am also excited for tomorrow, to be with my Vincent Gray family again.

I want to take this blog post to thank all of my different families for always being there to encourage me in this endeavor. Sometimes I get so nervous and worn out that I am unsure that I have what is takes to live my dream, but you all are right there to push me back in with some gatorade and a towel. I love you all and I can't wait to share more of my JVC experiences with you all! Happy New Year!

Laclede's Landing...and the Arch

The lovely Wise Avenue in Fall colors

Laclede's Landing

"The first time I ever saw St. Louis, I could have bought it for six million dollars, and it was the mistake of my life that I did not do it."
- Mark Twain

"Being the gateway to a large city, St. Louis, I had felt from the very beginning that somehow this building should symbolize this sense of being a gateway."
-Minoru Yamasaki