Day 2 - We're Going on an Adventure, to find Mountain Momma

Wake up, brush our teeth, pack our lunches and get out the door. Our second day going to Oak Hills Elementary started off feeling the same as the first, until we reached the parking lot and realized we weren’t quite ready to step out into the thirty-degree weather at nine in the morning. So, after taking our time to get out of the comfortably heated cars, we finally made our way back to the building extension where there was still more painting to be done. We were welcomed on our second day with the same group as Monday; Dave, with a big smile on his face as he tried to remember all of our names, Crash, Daniel, and Dillon, all who seemed to be waking up at the same lagging speed as our group. We also had been accompanied this day by John Flack, a representative from Americorp, who would oversee our progress and the working habits of the SALS employees for the rest of the week. John, being a friendly and insightful West Virginia native, would also be one of our excursion leaders later in the week and a close friend to our Rutgers ASB family.

After the morning introductions, we went to work. Our group had split the same as Monday with half remaining in the warm, insulated, HEATED extension building to continue painting while the rest were sent to the dark, dust filled, and freezing cold elementary school. Upon grabbing our brooms and preparing to sweep the place clean, the Florida International University (FIU) alternative break students accompanied us. Their presence in the school was beneficial in helping to sweep as members of our group began filtering to the warmer extension building to help with painting. Things balanced out and we had a set group in each location. By the end of the day, the painters had put finishing touches on the first and second coat of paint while the sweepers had emptied desk filled rooms and discovered the school’s huge second floor auditorium.

Upon returning back to base camp, our group was eager to adventure, after all, we didn’t come to wild West Virginia to stay in and play charades all day. SALS members had mentioned an old coalmine hidden in the backwoods of Beards Fork and without thinking twice about it we jumped on the road and began walking. Knowing how much mining and coal meant to the WV population, we wanted to get a little taste for ourselves of what the fuss was all about.

We strolled down the holler passing by houses lined up feet apart from each other without a front yard between their doors and the street we walked on. These houses were generational, meaning the families living in them today are descendants of the people who lived in them dating years back. They were built during times of segregation and the community had been cut in half with the first stretch of houses white families and the other black with one mixed couple living ironically on the corner of the streets. Our group approached the fork in the road, we had to determine which way would bring us to the coal mine. By instinct, we continued our hike to the right without any hesitation to our decision.

At the end of the community was a chapel and the road became dirt, seemingly patted down by construction vehicles. We were entering the wilderness of West Virginia. The trail was flat for the first five hundred paces of our trip, but we figured out where WVU got their Moutaineer mascot from very quickly as we began climbing. We finally got the adventure we asked for as we trekked up the uninhabited mountain and crossed over a stream by means of an improvised bridge. The quiet of the mountain was eerie. The only life forms to be found were the hawks gliding above us.

It was clear we weren’t the first to voyage this far along the trail as we came across countless pieces of litter ranging from soda cans, to a mini fridge, to a car. There was a broken down easy-bake oven that was dropped in the brush off the side of the trail deep in the woods. With the day growing later and our stomachs not getting any fuller, we followed good instinct and turned back down the mountain before reaching the coal mine. We briefly caught our breaths and had a photo shoot of the literal “face” of the mountain. We deemed her, “Mountain Momma.”

We returned to the start of the trail in disappointment we couldn’t reach the finish line and see a real coalmine. It was decided that we would hike the trail again leaving ourselves more time. As we retraced our steps down the holler, a tall man exited his house to get a glimpse of our tourist group from his porch. He was nice and told us all about his little community, how he had grown up in the same house all his life and raised his kids likewise. He was proud to mention how his sons had gone to the University, moved out of Beards Fork and made names for themselves in their respective careers. He also wanted to know a good deal about us, but we were too caught up in his story to even speak. Before parting ways with the kind man, we told him how we were frustrated that we didn't reach the coalmine at the end of the path.  To our dismay, he told us our mistake and how to get there.  “You shoulda’ turned left at the fork!” We had a good reflection that night after that long day.

Day 1- Welcome to Oak Hills Elementary!

We awoke with the roosters at the crack of dawn to venture into the unexpected.  It was our first day of work with SALS and none of us had any idea what to expect.  Bag lunches and the seven thirty alarm clocks were going to take some getting used to, but luckily today we were all eager to discover what exactly we would be doing for the next five days.

As we arrived at the work site after a thirty-minute drive, we were greeted by a run-down elementary school, Oakhill Elementary, and our “boss” for the week, Dave.  During the first half of the day we taped and primed a room that is going to become a new health clinic at Oakhill. After our lunch and a nice walk through the snow, yes, SNOW, we were split up into two groups; one group, who stayed and painted the room, and the other group who was going to begin cleaning and sweeping up the left over remains from the vandalized elementary school. Before entering the school everyone seemed a bit anxious, not knowing what was going to be behind those two old school doors. Once we entered and saw the hallways and classrooms in ruins, we knew we were going to have our work cut out for us this week, but also an extensive amount of ground to cover in exploration.

We started in the school cafeteria where the ceiling fell in and coated the floors with debris. The Disney cartoon characters painted on the walls had been smashed in by the vandals. It was saddening to think that children who have spent their school years in the cafeteria laughing and eating lunch, could never come back to cherish those memories because they had been ruined.  We all were intrigued by the remains that seemed to have just been left by the teachers before the school closed down. We found grade books, posters, textbooks, and many belongings from one particular child Alisha Evans; by the end of the day it felt as if we almost knew him.  Meanwhile, the entire room had been painted by the end of the day and was not even recognizable. Together, the twelve of us had made immense progress on the school and the future health clinic.  We also met our SALS crew, Daniel, Andrew (Crash), and Dillon, who we would be working alongside for the entire week. All of us longed to get to know them, hear their stories, and learn the culture of West Virginia through them.

Our first day ended with a charades game against Boston University, which OF COURSE Rutgers beat them! All in all our first day was memorable and already different from anything I had ever experienced in my entire life. I already bonded with each and every one of the people on the trip and we still had a whole week together! 

Take Me Home, Mountain Mama, to the Wild and Wonderful West Virginia!

When I pictured myself on a Spring Break in college, West Virginia was probably the last state that came to mind. I envisioned myself laying on a warm beach, tropical drink in hand, with a bunch of friends, but little did I know I was about to embark on a journey way deeper than the stereotypical college spring break. A few days before I started packing for the trip, I realized aside from being unsure about my packing list, I was also unsure about this trip in general. I was excited to do community service and meet people, but as Sunday started creeping up on me I started wondering if I would like the people I would be forced into spending the next week with or if this experience actually would change my life for the better just as I anticipated it would. Now, sitting here two weeks later writing this blog, I laugh at those fears and insecurities I had in the beginning, because my trip to West Virginia was by far one of the best weeks of my entire life and exceeded my expectations in each and every way. But, even though I could go on all day about the new person I had become by the end of this trip, and the impact we all made on the people of West Virginia, and, of course, each other, I cannot start there, because just like every other good story, I must start from the beginning.

It was Sunday morning, before the sun had even begun to come up and we were standing in front of the Student Center unsuspecting of what the next week of our lives was going to entail. Though we had spent the last five Sundays together through countless conversations and icebreakers, the 12 of us still felt like strangers to one another. Looking back on it now, we were not at all prepared for the twelve hour drive that awaited us or the next life changing six days that would follow. We had finally got on the road and then made our very first bathroom break on Easton Ave at the Dunkin Donuts, five minutes outside of Rutgers University. Our breakfast there would have to carry us on until we reached the infamous DJ's diner right on the outskirts of West Virginia.

After three hours of indulging ourselves in fried foods and spilled milkshakes (and famous West Virginian biscuits with gravy), we had rolled into our destination: West Virginia. It became apparent we were no longer in the north. Riding through the rough terrain on beaten down roads, it was clear where the "wild" of West Virginia came, but we were yet to see anything wonderful aside from a father riding his ATV down the two way highway with his four year old daughter sitting on the handlebars. 

Even though we had been forewarned about the poverty in West Virginia, none of us realized how terrible the circumstances actually were. As we drove along a West Virginia "highway" we saw everything from trailer parks to homes being kept together by just one shingle. We drove through "unincorporated towns" which was a foreign concept to all of us. These shady towns do not have a municipal government, police officers, or even a local schooling system. Like the majority of West Virginia, and its poverty, these towns are not only hidden by mountains and forests, they are forgotten.

As we wound down the stretch of the highway, we approached the welcoming sign "Beards Fork, 2 Miles, Turn right." If having just survived the unmaintained highway we were on for the last forty minutes wasn't enough, we now had to voyage down a two mile, single lane "holler" that led us into the great unknown where we would be spending the next six nights together. Pulling up to the fenced in lodge, we knew we had arrived at the Southern Appalachian Labor School (SALS). By this point, we had already caught a glimpse of some of the poverty stricken areas of West Virginia and barely had a hint of what to expect. We had driven for hours and through four different states. Our personalities had started to show and we had begun to know one another. We were curious, anxious, ready for whatever was next. It was at this moment that our unforgettable week began.

The Tale Comes To A Turn

And so here we are. We were all some-ones who became the ASB Tennessee 2011 family. We discovered who we are through each other and met others along the way that made it into our story. Our somewhere became Maryville, Tennessee, the Snowbird Cherokee Reservation, Once Upon A Time Breakaway, Linda's home, Pat's home, the beautiful trails, the hootenanny. Our some-ones were Arleen and Ed, Ian, Little Blue, Queeny, Tiger, Binky, CSU, SMU, Winthrup University, Wanda, Scott, Chase, Linda, Nelly, Pat, and the list goes on. As we rode back down the windy gravel road, we knew that our fairy-tale had not ended, we would just be bringing our some-ones and somewheres to another place spreading the goodness and the love that we had found and help others to find that same spirit. Our story has not come to an end. We will forever be connected by the memories we created and the souls we touched. We will live and volunteer happily ever after.  

Fist Pump Friday?

It was the last morning of our last full day. We had spent the entire week pinching ourselves, asking incredulously, could this possibly be real? Now we wished more than ever for that infinite fairy tale ending, where we all lived Happily Ever After in the mountains of Tennessee with Ed and Arleen, Little Blue and the three cats. As we sat at breakfast that morning, the sun rising over the left side of the mountain range still blue in the morning mist we giggled at how picturesque our fairy tale was.

"Play"

Our first stop was the Sequoyah Museum. The museum commemorated the man Sequoyah (which translates to "Pig Foot") who single-handedly formulated a written language for the Cherokee. Without a formal education, Sequoyah created the language by listening to people around him speak. He then came up with an 86 symbol syllabary.

"Work"

The museum is building a trail along the river and that pesky privet weed has been growing for more than twenty-five years unchecked. Though at times it took four people tugging and ripping at the tree-sized weed, the four schools managed to clear out a remarkable area for the new trail.

"Play"

After returning back to Once Upon A Time and cleaning up a bit, we headed back out for the big Hootenanny. What a release of energy! From the outside, the building looks like an old elementary school. That's because that's exactly what it is. From the inside, however, the space explodes with music from every direction. People travel from as much as three hours away to hear the performers, some well known and some just being discovered. We danced ourselves into the ground...literally. We actually broke through a couple floor boards! Some incorporated the jersey fist pump (for comic relief, ONLY) and others whipped out some fancy Irish step-dancing moves. By the end of the night, we had been converted to the Hootenanny and its ways.

And then it was time to face the music (heh). It was time to pack up and leave our magic place and get ready to say goodbye to our new found second family.

Thursday Thrills

"Work"

Thursday morning found the ASB 2011 troupe in the Chickasaw Tennessee State Park. Here we met the sole park ranger responsible for clean up and security for the entire park. The amount of thanks we received before we had even done any work was incredible. The Snowbird Cherokee Women's Society had sent literally an entire truck full of baked goods, drinks, and snacks. We were given reusable shopping bags, pens, keychains, flashlights, and hand sanitizer packs that read, "Keep Monroe County Beautiful". The ranger explained to us just how helpful the Alternative Break groups have been in helping to make that happen. When the groups started coming, the park was filled with insurmountable amounts of trash. Each year, the amount of trash being found has gone done incrementally. The cleaner the park becomes the cleaner people want to keep it!

We collected unbelievable amounts of trash. Most of it of the expected variety-- cans, bottles, food containers, etc. Some of us, however, were lucky enough to find some trash "treasures" (and to those brave souls who picked it up and dispensed of it, we salute you). Collectively we picked up enough trash to fill the back of a semi-truck!

"Play"

By the middle of the afternoon, the sun graced us with its presence. It was a lovely seventy-five degrees. The water glittered and shone as we approached the Great Rope Swing. After some timidity, most of the group climbed the tree trunk, grabbed the rope, and swung out up to fifteen in the air before plunking into the very cold water below.

After another great dinner, we welcomed a guest speaker, a Cherokee woman who was a good friend of Ed and Arleen. She told us so many wonderful Cherokee stories and also shared more details of just how tragic the Trail of Tears was. Here is my summarized version of one of my favorite lessons she shared with us:

One day, a grandfather was talking with his grandson. "Grandson, I have a battle going on inside my heart."
The grandson became very concerned and asked his grandfather if he was sick.
So the grandfather explained further, "Inside my heart there are two wolves. One wolf brings me anger, sadness, weakness, despair, and violence. The other wolf he battles brings me joy, peace, delight, courage and happiness."
So then the grandson asked his grandfather, "Grandfather, which wolf is winning?"
The grandfather smiled and looked at his grandson, "The one I choose to feed."

This story resonated so deeply with me because it encompassed a huge reason for why our trip had been so meaningful. We had each chosen to feed the good wolf inside of us. That goodness had spread and was feeding that good wolf in every other person we met and was being given back to each one of us tenfold. That bad wolf didn't have a chance.

Some Highlights From Our Day Off...

Wednesday was our day off. To take a break from all the written stuff, I've put together the basics of the day in picture form. 

(Pictures courtesy of Trini Head)

Entering The Lost Sea, one of the largest underground lakes in the world. 

View from inside the cave on the way to the Lost Sea. 

Taking laundry very seriously.

Beautiful Maryville for dinner!

Beautiful people share dinner at Tomato Head Cafe.

We've been graffitied by Colorado State! (They even got our slogan right)

No comment. 

Arleen teaches the group to make jam at Jam Session. We all came home with 

our own jar of homemade blackberry jam. 

Bonfire and s'mores and story time. 

Our own Will wrote his own brilliant story. 

Tuesday Wrapping Up in the Reservation

"Work"

Tuesday morning, after welcoming the day and all its lessons with the Morning Song, we were off to the Snowbird Cherokee Senior Center. It was rainy, cold, and gray so the trip indoors was definitely welcomed. We found way more than shelter in that small space. As we walked in, slightly soar and tired from the day before, we heard chirps and giggles in the room ahead of us. I have never seen a more energetic group of "seniors" in my life. Though some were quieter than others, everyone shared a smile with us. We were doubled over giggling with them, passing unicorns and "half-a-lump"s by the end of our stay. The asked us to come back soon, and we parted after a very genuine hugging session. We were supposed to be there to keep them company and brighten their spirits, but as we left I felt as if they had given us so much energy and light. I felt like we had gotten more than we could ever give, but I suppose that is often the feeling in environments filled with so much genuine compassion.

After reuniting with the rest of the colleges (who were much wetter and muddier) for lunch, we decided we would brave the potential rain to help another Cherokee woman, Pat, clear some more invasive privet from her yard. As we cut away all the nasty privet we could see, she told us a bit of her story. Her husband had passed away about ten years ago. Before he had passed, they would spend their time together on the porch looking at the brook. Since he had died the privet weed had grown so thick she could no longer see the brook. Along with Colorado State, we worked intently to clear as much as we could. Pat was ecstatic to see her brook again.

"Play"

Our next adventure was a two mile hike through the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest. The old growth forest felt so momentous as we hiked up and around it in the weakening rain. We saw giant, thick trees that were over six hundred years old, and we saw small delicate trillium plants that had taken six years just to produce a little bud. We even found a little piece of the Hub City. On a plaque dedicating the forest to Joyce Kilmer, we discovered he was born in New Brunswick, NJ! It was a very proud moment indeed.

Later, we returned to Once Upon A Time. We were back home! At every meal, one school is selected to sit in the house's dining room as opposed to the dining hall where most of the schools eat together. It was a very simple yet special experience. It was only the evening of our third day together and we were already becoming a family. Through the front windows, the blue and grey mountain ranges were blanketed with a light mist. Perhaps this was a fairy-tale after all.

Monday Sets the Bar High

Our first day of work was a series of rejuvenating actions. It became so busy, even in our journals we described the events in terms of an itinerary so that we could preserve each and every moment's memory in a concentrated way.

"Work" 

For the first and second day of work, we spent most of our time working with and getting to know the Cherokee people. After riding the Dragon, the infamous motorcycle road stretch that contains 318 turns in 11 miles, we arrived at our first project. Our group was responsible for digging the final irrigation trenches, laying the gravel and beams for an ADA handicap fishing trail. When asked who wouldn't mind getting "a little muddy", four girls jumped at the opportunity. By the end of the two hour stretch of work, everyone had become apart of the mud war and most wore it proudly. 

After wrapping every surface of the rental car in garbage bags, we moved on to the next site, where we met Linda, an elderly Cherokee woman in need of some assistance on her property. Linda's garden was on a grade that was higher than her house. As she got older, she wasn't able to make it up the hill. She tied a rope to a tree and was pulling herself up the hill every day. Our group put in steps and a handrail so that Linda could get back up to her garden with ease again. The rest of the group worked rigorously to rip the invasive privet weed out of her front yard. A beautiful brook runs through Linda's property. Before we got there, you couldn't even see there was a brook from some angles. By the time we finished, it was clearly visible! The third and final section of the group worked on Linda's sister-in-law's house scrubbing off mold and residue that builds up due to the humid atmosphere. It was amazing to see what a group of hard working students could do in a couple of short hours. It was more gratifying than anything most of us had accomplished in a long time. 

Our next project for the day was brief but sweet. We spent some time at the Recreation Center, some of us tip-toeing into the library in our muddy work boots to help students with their homework, others going into the bible study session in the gymnasium. Wherever we ended up, all agreed that the children were eager to see us. It was touching to see how positive and familiar Ed and Arleen's program is in the community. On several occasions we were asked, "Are you the college kids?!" Everyone young and old seemed to know about Ed and Arleen and "their college kids". 

And so we were off to the infamous Fish Game. 

"Play" 

Everyone had been discussing the game since we had been told we would need a change of clothes and Ian told us he was playing in a bathing suit. "Just expect to be muddier than you got playing in the mud when you were six", he advised. As our van approached, we saw a seemingly innocent field with a tall wooden beam decorated with a large carved wooden fish on top. It was only as we got closer that we saw the pooling layer of mud that surrounded it on all sides. 

There were only a few rules to this Cherokee courtship game:

Men:

-are shirtless and are allowed the use of a small wooden lacrosse stick

-are not allowed to hit women

-must use the stick to pass the ball and hit the fish with said ball for a point

Women:

-do whatever you need to do to hit the fish with that ball

First team to 12 wins. 

Women have won ten years in a row. After two hours of mud slinging, sliding, slopping, and tackling, the girls emerged victorious. By the end of the game, it seemed that an equally compelling competition was raised-- whoever is covered head to toe in mud will be an even bigger winner. I believe there were quite a few ties. 

After dipping into the river (some were scrubbing each other with flat bristled brushes) to get some of the mud off, we delicately made our way into the van to travel back to the church we would be staying in for the night. And that is when we realized: for 40 students (the majority of which were women) there were two showers per gender. 

The race for the shower was pleasantly delayed by the Welch family, a Cherokee couple that came to the church to sing some traditional music and christian music in the Cherokee language. They explained to us that after the Trail of Tears, much of the Cherokee language was lost because those who had experienced it wanted to save their children and grandchildren from the pain and suffering they had endured. The Welch family and others were working to re-cultivate the culture and the language through song. We all rose as they sang a song in Cherokee in honor of those who were lost on that terrible journey. It was a powerful ending to a powerful day. 

After a strategic race, we bonded further over the adventure that was the cold shower experience and went to sleep before another busy and moving day. 

And so the story begins...

It doesn't fit in a letter or a word or a sentence or a paragraph or an essay. It doesn't fit in a picture frame or a souvenir. It won't fit in this blog, either. But I suppose we will do our best. Our experience in Tennessee was an intangible flow of people and thier stories, places and their histories that will forever be ingrained in how each one of the ASB Tennesseee Alt Breakers identifies himself or herself. I have tried to break this down into "work" and "play" but these two were so often intertwined that these ideas may carry overlapping stories.

We arrived on day one at Once Upon a Time Breakaway in Maryville, Tennessee. We travelled up the windy gravel road to arrive at a place we would call our home for the next week. Ed, Arleen, and Ian the intern welcomed us with Little Blue, the chubby beagle mutt, and Queeny, the cuddly cat, close behind them. After short introductions we were led into the bunkhouse, "The Backpacker's Inn" Our bunkhouse was perfect. We had a wood burning stove to keep us warm at night, a kitchen (where countless pots of coffee were made) and a back deck that had a breathtaking view of the mountains. We were even close to the outhouse.

We later learned that the entire compound, including Ed and Arleen's house, the outhouse, shower house, bunkhouse, bunks, workshop, etc. had been built by Ed himself. A humble man, Ed left his honor up to Ian, who rattled off all of Ed's accomplishments-- including the commision by President Reagan and his wife to build furniture for the White House, and the record-setting three hundred pound boar he took down on his own (it hung triumphantly inside the house).

After a peaceful dinner and further introductions and greetings with Colorado State University, Winthrup University and Southern Methodist University, we piled back into our bunkhouse to prepare for Day 2 (or Day 1 of actual volunteer work). We were told to bring two extra changes of clothes to change into after the Fish Game. Ian warned us all, "You will definitely want to change after the Fish Game-- trust me." We giggled as we prepared for the next day, unaware of just how rocked our senses would be twenty-four hours later.

Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time- or, to be more exact- six weeks ago, we were some-ones going on a trip somewhere, preparing for it somehow. We didn't know names, places or faces. We were individuals sitting in swivel chairs in a meeting room with no idea what to do next. We weren't going to Florida, or Jamaica or Cancun for our spring break, and that was about all we knew.

So we spent the next six weeks changing that. Through some planned and some unplanned moments, we grew to realize how interconnected we all were. Each week a different thread of our personal stories was raised and each week it was woven into the story of the group. We had goals that were the same (whether they were embracing the outhouse or making a change outside the Rutgers community), childhood memories that were the same, even hometowns that were the same. We began to understand that in order to make this upcoming trip as meaningful as possible, we had to first develop relationships with one another. It was almost too easy. By the end of six weeks, we were screaming and hugging, conducting and playing silent orchestras, referring to ourselves in terms of our colors, and picking outhouse buddies. 

As we learned about each other, we simultaneously worked to find out more about our volunteer goals in Tennessee.  Each week we strove to learn about the Cherokee people, about Once Upon a Time Breakaway, and about our itineraries once we get there. This task posed a challenge that became more abstract than we realized. A piece of paper cannot laugh or tell inside jokes, it cannot tell you the story of it’s past beyond dates and concrete events. Though we will leave Rutgers this week with an idea of who the Cherokee are, our greatest understanding is yet to come. We leave this community with open minds, flexible schedules, and a longing for a greater connection to the story of the some-ones in Tennessee. We are eager to help, but mindful of the difference between leaving a positive impact and leaving undesired changes. We are going to work with the environment, not against it. 

This Sunday as we depart, We are Tiff, Chris, Karen, Eunji, Will, Joanna, Sam, Kelly, Moses, Eden, Keith, Trini, and Erin. We’re not going to Mexico or Jamaica to sun-bathe, we’re going to Tennessee with new found friends to assist the Cherokee people in their environmental pursuits to preserve, restore and protect. There are still some-ones we do not know, somehows we have yet to come across, and somewheres we have yet to see. We are ready to meet them and weave together the story of the Alternative Spring Break Group 2011 Trip to Tennessee.

AWB Virginia Camp Baker

AWB Virginia traveled to Camp Baker in Chesterfield, VA over our winter break. Camp Baker works to provide a traditional camp experience for children and adults who have disabilities. I would say our expectations were exceeded the entire week.

Every morning we worked on painting the camper's retreat. The staff told us that if we hadn't painted they would have had to hire painters to come in. It made us feel great that we could spare the camp of this expense. After we had finished we would clean up and make lunch. Then we sat down with Dr. O'Brian who gave us a short lecture each day about a different disability. The lectures were very hands on so we truly began to understand what the children affected by these disabilities go through. During one lecture Dr. O'Brian had us stick peanut butter on the roofs of our mouths and speak so we could see what it was like to have an over-sized tongue like people affected by Down's Syndrome have. The lectures added a priceless aspect of education and understanding to our trip.

Every afternoon we worked with the camp's after school program. All of the kids were affected by different disabilities and functioned on different levels so it was difficult at first figuring out exactly how to interact with them, but by the end of the week everyone agreed we got the hang of it. In fact, one day we all played kickball with the camper's and it felt just like any other camp. Working with children who have disabilities can be very intense; I give the staff at Camp Baker all the credit in the world- they are awesome with all of the campers. The staff at Camp Baker made us feel welcome as well. One of the staff members- Jarek acted as our welcoming committee/mentor the whole week. 

One morning we took a break from painting and traveled into Richmond to tour the ARC. The ARC of Richmond is the organization that Camp Baker is based out of. The ARC works to provide occupational and speech therapy to children with developmental disabilities, it provides adult day programs and work placement for higher functioning adults. Then we met up with Jarek's friend Marley who took us on a tour of the Canal Walk and of Richmond. 

On our last night at Camp Baker we helped plan and put on a "Blast from the Past" dance for the adult respite weekend group. We had a great time dancing with the adults and we even taught them how to fist pump Jersey style! I learned so much on my AWB trip to Camp Baker, not only in the educational sense, but about myself as well. This is an experience I wouldn't trade for the world and I would recommend it to anyone. As we discussed on our trip; it feels as if Camp Baker has given us so much more than we could ever give Camp Baker.

Florida AWB: One of the Best Weeks of Our Lives!

Our trip in Orlando, Florida came to a close today, but what a week it was! We spent our mornings volunteering at the Orlando Day Nursery, each in different aged classrooms ranging from 1-5 year olds. We really emerged ourselves in our classrooms, playing with the kids, taking part in dance time, reading time, play ground time and even lunch time! We really formed a bond with the children at the day care, making it very, very difficult to leave them behind. These children showed us all that we really can handle children and how well we actually do, washing away our previous concerns and replacing them with amazing memories. I even got 3 crayon portraits to take back with me from some of the children in my class! At night we spent our time at Give Kids the World Village doing a variety of activities. We worked at the Gingerbread House helping serve meals, ran the carousel (and even test rode it), worked the pizza hut taking orders and delivering them on a golf cart (so cool!), pampered children at the la ti da spa, manned the pool, ran "Village Idol" (America Idol GKTW style), worked concession stands and even acted as security. We got to see many wish families and talking to them was a rewarding experience. During our free time, we got to go explore the Leu mansion gardens, play mini golf, walk Downtown Disney and even go to MAGIC KINGDOM!!! All these different activities combined with the amazing friendships that we've all made truly made for the trip of a lifetime! AWB 2011, you rocked my world!

In response to "different" names

During our trip in Mississippi, some of the children we had the privilege of meeting had extraordinary names. Some would consider their names "different" or "odd", but I see them as creative and bold gifts given to the children.

Here is a poem dedicated to the children of Mississippi (and all across the nation) with names not given the appreciation that they deserve.

To brown children with syllable-slicked names,
know you are silk language.
crystal fibre of woven consonants and vowels.

Tanjenekia
Southern baked name simmering in deep fried drawl.
Momma Mississippi scrapping up all she could,
pasting together a Brown Girl's identity.
Momma making certain pronouncing her name will be an adventure.
Ensuring Brown Girl masters the recipe of struggle,
before she realizes the true meaning of hungry and broke.
Before broke has multiple meanings, under a callous man's hands.

Brown child
Know you are privilege. All tongues weren't taught to twist taboo.
Foreigners who can't trespass will taunt you in envy
Judge you by name before they meet you
Strip planks of dignity with labels: Ghetto, illiterate.
Ignorant because they will never know the sweet flavor
of rolling plump sound between plain of tongue, blades of teeth.
How it feels audacious, exactly like your existence.
Squeezing life and light through dark, narrow channel
Attempting to birth possibilities out of nothing but air and muscle.

Take Your Pic

I just wanted to take a detour from lengthy blogs. Pictures speak a thousands words anyway, right? Here are just a few shots from Jonestown (with Ms.Mcgrew and The Community Center), Clarkedale (where we stayed) and Lambert (with Mr.Cormack and Quitman County Elementary School).

Our House. Habitat for Humanity.

Inside View

Community Center

Community Center Picture #2

Quitman County Inside View























Quitman County Motto






















EXTRA: BBQ in Memphis (MMmMmMmMm)

Giving + Having Faith = Simple Key to World Peace (So why don't more do it?)

Ms.McGrew (fourth person from right with blue sweats) is a lady of struggle and triumph all wrapped in one. My inspiration.

On our second day (and for the rest of our week) in the new state, a community organizer and proud grandmother of four shown bright through the darkness of poverty and stagnation that blanketed Mississippi. Her name was Ms.McGrew. A former executive director of a non-profit who taught herself to read, She started a community center as a means to create a resource for the youth of Jonestown – an area in Mississippi (like most areas of Mississippi) in need of that and many other resources.

She told us many stories about the oppression and the optimism in Jonestown, about the Casinos sucking up money, sucking in lives and how about many residents put a stop sign between themselves and caring. The first dynamic about her that struck me to the core was her sense of peace, calm and humbleness despite her stubborn ambition and perseverance. She attributed her “blessings” to faith in God. Me, being a person that is not deeply religious, I really admire her commitment to faith through the means of helping others.

They key of living is “giving,” she said. Without giving, compromise, cooperation and self-sacrifice there will be no future. No life. Residents of Mississippi have no learned to give, she said. Hence, the reason for some of the dilemmas there. But, that is just not the issue for Mississippi. That is an issue that our entire nation has not even BEGAN to conquer. After all, 14 individuals flew thousands of miles to a state as an “alternative” break, Meaning, taking the time to give back is not a typical thing for many. Just some food for thought.

Florida: And the trip begins!

We all arrived in Orlando, Florida yesterday and got to explore our surroundings, with a lake right in back of our hostel! Today we started our volunteering by going to the Orlando Day Nursery in the morning and all got to interact and play with different classrooms of toddlers. Wow those kids have lots of energy! After some break time, later in the day we went on a tour of Give Kids the World Village, which was so amazing. Tomorrow we'll go back to the nursery and actually get to start volunteering at GKTW!

Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Happy..

New Years. It is two hours and twenty minutes away. This Midnight, which is usually just a blanket separating moon and sun, represents a celebration of another year. A celebration of breath and movement. Here. Now.

I am not as excited as others about that Mr.New Years . That strike of clock when the hands of time embrace.

My heart thumps for another.

Her name is Mississippi.

She leaves her songs and stories in the chest of man, and if you listen carefully you can hear her feminine tremble in every Blues song. I have been studying her curves for months now.

And although I have been discovering more about her each day, She is still a complete stranger. I have been only hearing the “rumors” of her mystique in articles and statistics. Never have I witnessed her in person.

That will change on January 2nd.

Those articles say she got some problems. That she is poor and uneducated. But I see things on a different color spectrum. from what I have read she is a beautiful struggle; she is the manifestation of New Years. For her, every morning is a celebration of oxygen stretching over lungs and running through veins. She does not need a year to rejuvenate her ideals on how precious life is; 24 hours will do.

Here I am again! Detailing a beauty I don’t know. I won’t know until January 2nd. And I am scared, of course. This will not only be my first time flying, it will also be my first time outside the east coast.

During our first meeting for the trip, the first article we read about Mississippi said “The abandoned shells of buildings along the main drag here serve as a glum backdrop for the youngsters who sit in front of them for hours.. A liquor store and convenience store are he only places to shop. The little work available is a seasonal or at casinos 25 miles away.” To me this reads like fantasy, like poetry. This is the main reason why I decided to do participate in this trip. I want to and expect to go out the bounds of my comfort zone. Me and ten others are going to explore a fantasy is someone’s reality. In college, it is easy to live inside of a metaphoric bubble where your whole existence revolves are grades, concepts and theories. January 2nd will be my true “new” year. A year where I gain a fresh perspective.

AWB New Orleans, Louisiana

AWB Florida Pre-Trip

My fellow AWBers and I will be headed to Orlando, Florida to volunteer at Give Kids the World Village and a day care. Give Kids the World Village focuses on making children with life threatening illnesses dreams come true by providing them and their families with an opportunity to stay at the Village and have a fun, memorable time. Since this trip will potentially be emotionally tough, working with sick children, through our pre-trip meetings we prepared for this by having Rutgers grad student speak to us about grieving and dying, as well as other things. We got to know each other more and more each week with fun ice breakers and we learned our “true colors”! I’m a green! I hope to have a great trip, bonding with everyone and having a truly rewarding and moving volunteer experience. We leave for Orlando in a week and I am so excited to go!

Mississippi Here I Come!

SO Happy NEW 365 EVERYONE!!!!!

It is 12:12 am and I leave my grandma's house for the airport in about 5 1/2 hours.

I am unnecessarily excited for what this trip has in store my me and my wonderful Mississppi group!

I can't wait to reunite with everyone and hear how their holidays have been.

As a social work major I absolutely love serving others and working with children and from the "job" description I received from my site leaders 2 days ago that is EXACTLY what we will be doing in Clarksdale: working in some of the local schools and doing some work in the town. Unfortunately for shortage of time, I believe our group will have to split up during the day so we can tackle each task accordingly.

I also look forward to just being exposed to the town of Clarksdale, as well as the state of Mississippi. During out pre-trip meetings we discovered that Clarksdale is considered to be the Birthplace and World Capital of the Blues. I find that awesome, I know my grandfather loved Blues music so I hope we are exposed to it a little bit, never really gave Blues music a chance lol.

Also, I get to just view where my Godfather grew up. I recently learned his family still resides in Clarksdale so if anything happens.....JUST KIDDING nothing will.

Unfortunately, the Blues is not the only thing Mississippi is known for, it is also known as the worst poverty in the United States. I cant wait to start working with my group members and just opening our minds and hearts to the struggles of others. I know I am a caring person, but I also know I can be a selfish thinker as well, I hope to gain an even bigger appreciation for others, awareness of struggles known to little, and friendships with the wonderful people I will be working with for the next week.

I'll let you know how everything goes. Safe travels to All of the other AWB trips as well!!!!

Night! (well morning)

AWB Mississippi: Day before Take-off

I cannot believe that we're leaving for Mississippi tomorrow! I've been looking forward to helping out in both the school and community of Clarksdale since out first pre-trip meeting, but between finals and the holidays, I feel like time has flown by so quickly--this trip has snuck up on me. I've learned a lot about Clarksdale and the state of their school system since being chosen for this trip, but I still don't really know what to expect. I'm really excited (and a little nervous) about stepping into such a different culture and way of life. I can't wait for tomorrow--what a great way to start the new year!