A belated Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all! The holiday season usually inspires good cheer and warm feelings all around. While I'm thankful for a loving family and home to go back to at this time of year, my new position at Habitat has opened my eyes to others who don't have the same luxury. I decided to simply Google Homeless for the Holidays to see what information could be gathered and what could be done about the situation.
What I didn't expect to find was an article written by retired Air Force Colonel Terry Stevens about veterans who have returned from war and will be living on the streets this holiday season. The statistics regarding this were mindblowing. One in particular, "The VA estimates that, conservatively, one-in-three homeless men in America have at one time, worn a military uniform.", was downright appalling. What started off as quick surfing to learn more about my community and the poverty Habitat stives to fight against turned into something much more. After reading this article and a little light research my entire perception of individuals suffering from homelessness and the factors leading up to that tragedy have been completely redifined.
Homeless for the Holidays
by Terry Stevens
http://www.military.com/opinion/0,15202,181752,00.html
Monday, January 5, 2009
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Dream Big
After a week and a half of diving in headfirst and hoping for the best I had a few meetings that really illuminated things for me. My Tuesday meeting with Brad revealed that though I was enthusiastic and working hard towards the goals we set it was more difficult because I was essentially clueless on the structure of Habitat. Instead of pointing me toward a pamphlet or archive Brad whipped out a whiteboard and proceeded to doodle a quick diagram of the intricacies of the program. Being a visual person it allowed me to follow along through the entire process from application to housewarming without confusing the multiple steps that could get a bit complicated.
Just being aware of how every person's work comes together for Habitat's mission gives importance to every task, no matter how small it may seem.
Wednesday was consumed with in depth Habitat training that expanded on the foundation that Brad laid out for me. I was amazed at the program's detailed history and how much of an impact it has made on so many families worldwide. To be honest the entire experience left me with more questions than answers. My mind concoted so many ideas for the 2009 year that I instantly knew that one year wasn't nearly enough to complete them all. Now my mission for the holiday break is to sift through all of the potential plans to find one that is actually feasible to implement. My yearly objectives seemed clear, but now I'm entertaining thousands of ways to get to my end goal. I'm still not sure if this is a horrible development or the best possible thing that could have happened.
Just being aware of how every person's work comes together for Habitat's mission gives importance to every task, no matter how small it may seem.
Wednesday was consumed with in depth Habitat training that expanded on the foundation that Brad laid out for me. I was amazed at the program's detailed history and how much of an impact it has made on so many families worldwide. To be honest the entire experience left me with more questions than answers. My mind concoted so many ideas for the 2009 year that I instantly knew that one year wasn't nearly enough to complete them all. Now my mission for the holiday break is to sift through all of the potential plans to find one that is actually feasible to implement. My yearly objectives seemed clear, but now I'm entertaining thousands of ways to get to my end goal. I'm still not sure if this is a horrible development or the best possible thing that could have happened.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Higher Education?
This week I've decided to do specific research on the poverty situation in Michigan. But to do so I would have to tackle the horrors of Michigan's economy at the moment. That topic is a personal hot button with me and I decided to reflect on what I had learned at the AmeriCorps training a few weeks ago to get started.
Though the trainings were divided by region, there was an amazing amount of Michigan natives present at the orientation. It was encouraging to know that we have so much support, but as we went into deeper discussion about our personal situations we began to uncover a disturbing trend. Most of us were recent college graduates with big dreams and empty bank accounts. We had an interesting discussion about our lives and what we wished we had known a mere four years ago.
Our school system seeks to educate us so that we can enter society as knowledagble adults. We learn science, reading, math, and history to prepare us for this task. And yet many of us exit college hopelessly in debt, and though we appreciate all we've gained that fact alone casts a dark shadow over our first few years afterwards.
At the moment I don't have a friend who has less than $3,000 in credit card debt and tens of thousands in student loans. A class in financial literacy when entering adulthood is more than beneficial, it's neccessary. My facilitator at the AmeriCorps used part of his additional training stipend to take a similar course while in service. It is near impossible to educate others about efficient financial habits if you are not familiar with them yourself. He expressed shock and a small amount bitterness that he had not learned the even the simplest of financial management strategies in his past education. I couldn't help but agree. One thing I've learned in these past few weeks is that the impoverished have many faces, and that knowledge can prevent some of these unfortunate circumstances.
Now working with youth I've caught them at this pivotal time when I wish my education had included some more practical training. I can only hope that our research and awareness outreach inspires the students to stay informed on the issues. I know I will be encouraging them to take every opportunity to increase their knowledge of their own personal situations and options as well.
Though the trainings were divided by region, there was an amazing amount of Michigan natives present at the orientation. It was encouraging to know that we have so much support, but as we went into deeper discussion about our personal situations we began to uncover a disturbing trend. Most of us were recent college graduates with big dreams and empty bank accounts. We had an interesting discussion about our lives and what we wished we had known a mere four years ago.
Our school system seeks to educate us so that we can enter society as knowledagble adults. We learn science, reading, math, and history to prepare us for this task. And yet many of us exit college hopelessly in debt, and though we appreciate all we've gained that fact alone casts a dark shadow over our first few years afterwards.
At the moment I don't have a friend who has less than $3,000 in credit card debt and tens of thousands in student loans. A class in financial literacy when entering adulthood is more than beneficial, it's neccessary. My facilitator at the AmeriCorps used part of his additional training stipend to take a similar course while in service. It is near impossible to educate others about efficient financial habits if you are not familiar with them yourself. He expressed shock and a small amount bitterness that he had not learned the even the simplest of financial management strategies in his past education. I couldn't help but agree. One thing I've learned in these past few weeks is that the impoverished have many faces, and that knowledge can prevent some of these unfortunate circumstances.
Now working with youth I've caught them at this pivotal time when I wish my education had included some more practical training. I can only hope that our research and awareness outreach inspires the students to stay informed on the issues. I know I will be encouraging them to take every opportunity to increase their knowledge of their own personal situations and options as well.
Friday, December 12, 2008
The Bad Guy
I had my first meeting on Wednesday and I don't know what I was expecting, but wow! Youth United is comprised of some of the most dedicated teens I've ever met. As they talked I couldn't help but try desperately to remember if I had even considered being that mature at that age. They impressed me with their obvious passion for what they were doing and the sheer amount of effort they dedicate while pursuing their studies as well. All of this should have made me elated, and it did to a degree, but as I listened to them recount weeks' worth of hard work I couldn't help but feel a tinge of dread. My first week here and my first duty was to explain to them that their dream of a LEED certified house was not going to happen for them.
I had attempted to lessen the blow by including a plan B, C and even a plan D option in their meeting agenda, but when the time came I just couldn't say the words. I asked their opinions and genuinely listened to the interesting things they had to say, but in the end it was Brad who had to drop the bomb. And the entire time he explained and gave a spectacular alternative, a home rehabilitation, I kept asking myself "Why couldn't I do that?"
Working with such motivated youth left me a little unprepared. I'd gathered all the research needed, created all of the documents, contacted the neccessary people, but mentally I just wasn't ready to be the one to dash their dreams. The positive parts of working with youth are easy to see on the surface, but many forget to mention the impact of huge disappoinments. Hopefully it's not something that I will ever have to become completely comfortable with as I plan to do everything in my limited power to prevent them, but realistically they happen. And encountering it the first week on the job helped me to understand how I can approach it in the future to the benefit of everyone.
I had attempted to lessen the blow by including a plan B, C and even a plan D option in their meeting agenda, but when the time came I just couldn't say the words. I asked their opinions and genuinely listened to the interesting things they had to say, but in the end it was Brad who had to drop the bomb. And the entire time he explained and gave a spectacular alternative, a home rehabilitation, I kept asking myself "Why couldn't I do that?"
Working with such motivated youth left me a little unprepared. I'd gathered all the research needed, created all of the documents, contacted the neccessary people, but mentally I just wasn't ready to be the one to dash their dreams. The positive parts of working with youth are easy to see on the surface, but many forget to mention the impact of huge disappoinments. Hopefully it's not something that I will ever have to become completely comfortable with as I plan to do everything in my limited power to prevent them, but realistically they happen. And encountering it the first week on the job helped me to understand how I can approach it in the future to the benefit of everyone.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The Mission if I choose to accept it. . .
Well I've only been on the job for a few days, a week if you count the intensive AmeriCorps training and already I'm learning that I just don't know as much as I thought I did. I journeyed to Chicago with the belief that I was going into the business of helping people. Which turned out to be completely incorrect. My year devoted to Habitat has almost nothing to do with "helping" others. I will be serving.
Yeah I didn't understand the difference at first either, but it's a significant one. "Helping is something you do for others that are weaker than yourself. AmeriCorps members are serving. It is a partnership between equals." -AmeriCorps Facilitator.
It puts everything into perspective and at the same time makes everything more difficult. I find that sometimes it is easier to offer a helping hand. It takes effort, enthusiasm and passion for what you're doing to constantly serve the needs of others and the community.
Unbalanced and a bit unprepared for the difference I embarked on my first week with Habitat, confident that at least I knew my responsibilities as I had been a coordinator in the past.
Wrong again.
As I sifted through the massive piles of Youth United paperwork I discovered the outlined purpose of the group I was supposed to be guiding. It's core value of advocacy, a term I thought I was well acquainted with, threw me for another loop. In my mind I always pictured advocates as people who fight for their beliefs and spend most of their time making other people aware of the laws and options presented. Well as I dust off my own little soapbox practically daily, I figured that this was a job I could sink my teeth into. Little did I know that awareness was just a small part of what I was going to have to encourage youth to do. Unbeknownst to me I was not supposed to simply inform but seek to change laws and policies that have been around for longer than my existence. Which quite frankly is intimidating to say the least.
Cluless and confused I'm sure I should be floundering or at least overwhelmed. But as I sit here reconsidering what I thought I knew and what I was sure I wanted for some reason I can't help but smile.
Maybe tomorrow I'll figure out why. . .
Yeah I didn't understand the difference at first either, but it's a significant one. "Helping is something you do for others that are weaker than yourself. AmeriCorps members are serving. It is a partnership between equals." -AmeriCorps Facilitator.
It puts everything into perspective and at the same time makes everything more difficult. I find that sometimes it is easier to offer a helping hand. It takes effort, enthusiasm and passion for what you're doing to constantly serve the needs of others and the community.
Unbalanced and a bit unprepared for the difference I embarked on my first week with Habitat, confident that at least I knew my responsibilities as I had been a coordinator in the past.
Wrong again.
As I sifted through the massive piles of Youth United paperwork I discovered the outlined purpose of the group I was supposed to be guiding. It's core value of advocacy, a term I thought I was well acquainted with, threw me for another loop. In my mind I always pictured advocates as people who fight for their beliefs and spend most of their time making other people aware of the laws and options presented. Well as I dust off my own little soapbox practically daily, I figured that this was a job I could sink my teeth into. Little did I know that awareness was just a small part of what I was going to have to encourage youth to do. Unbeknownst to me I was not supposed to simply inform but seek to change laws and policies that have been around for longer than my existence. Which quite frankly is intimidating to say the least.
Cluless and confused I'm sure I should be floundering or at least overwhelmed. But as I sit here reconsidering what I thought I knew and what I was sure I wanted for some reason I can't help but smile.
Maybe tomorrow I'll figure out why. . .
Monday, December 8, 2008
Oblivion
“Humanitarian.”
That was the word my family and friends used to describe me after glancing at the resume I’d created of my brief career. It was never said the same way twice. Sometimes it was with praise, and other times confusion. Every so often it came out with a chuckle, as if there was some hilarious cosmic joke that I had missed. But each time I felt this reluctant pride as if I somehow knew the secrets of the universe. And at night I went to bed and slept well confident that I had done my part.
It was in that same bed that I lay, channel surfing late night television, that I came across the commercial. You know the one.
This is Jessica. Jessica is hurting because she has not eaten in three days. Her village has enough food to support a fraction of the people, and they must walk miles just to access polluted drinking water. Much of the world is made up of children that could use our help. With a small donation of just $5 dollars a day. . .
Click
With one flick of a button the little girl ceased to exist. She disappeared off the screen and out of my mind for the foreseeable future. Sneaking a bite of my late night snack I pulled the warm covers up to my chin before slipping into a dreamworld where Jessica, and the millions of children like her, did not exist.
Humanitarian? hah!
With a response that was barely human? Not likely.
About 25,000 children die each day from poverty, and I couldn’t take the time out to hear from just one. That was the moment I realized that I knew nothing. A tragedy the size of the 2004 Asian Tsunami had been repeated every 24 hours for years and I’d blithely gone on my way. Basking in the power of obliviousness that seems to accompany privilege. While the impoverished get the power of invisibility, a trait they never asked for or deserve.
It never ceases to amaze me that we are born and die on the same planet and yet live in two different worlds. Many times never experiencing or even acknowledging the other. The heartbreak and horror of their lives somehow manages to fade into the background. Even in the midst of trying to help people they can become goals, deadlines, or dollars raised. A faceless someone that won’t inspire me when the comfort of false obliviousness beckons.
Invisible.
And as I sit using the cherished resume for scrap paper to scribble my thoughts, I realize that doing my part is not volunteering for as many projects as possible just to be “involved”. Or ranting about the injustices of the world to anyone with the patience to listen.
The best thing I could ever do for the people the rest of the world seems to have forgotten is to always see them.
That was the word my family and friends used to describe me after glancing at the resume I’d created of my brief career. It was never said the same way twice. Sometimes it was with praise, and other times confusion. Every so often it came out with a chuckle, as if there was some hilarious cosmic joke that I had missed. But each time I felt this reluctant pride as if I somehow knew the secrets of the universe. And at night I went to bed and slept well confident that I had done my part.
It was in that same bed that I lay, channel surfing late night television, that I came across the commercial. You know the one.
This is Jessica. Jessica is hurting because she has not eaten in three days. Her village has enough food to support a fraction of the people, and they must walk miles just to access polluted drinking water. Much of the world is made up of children that could use our help. With a small donation of just $5 dollars a day. . .
Click
With one flick of a button the little girl ceased to exist. She disappeared off the screen and out of my mind for the foreseeable future. Sneaking a bite of my late night snack I pulled the warm covers up to my chin before slipping into a dreamworld where Jessica, and the millions of children like her, did not exist.
Humanitarian? hah!
With a response that was barely human? Not likely.
About 25,000 children die each day from poverty, and I couldn’t take the time out to hear from just one. That was the moment I realized that I knew nothing. A tragedy the size of the 2004 Asian Tsunami had been repeated every 24 hours for years and I’d blithely gone on my way. Basking in the power of obliviousness that seems to accompany privilege. While the impoverished get the power of invisibility, a trait they never asked for or deserve.
It never ceases to amaze me that we are born and die on the same planet and yet live in two different worlds. Many times never experiencing or even acknowledging the other. The heartbreak and horror of their lives somehow manages to fade into the background. Even in the midst of trying to help people they can become goals, deadlines, or dollars raised. A faceless someone that won’t inspire me when the comfort of false obliviousness beckons.
Invisible.
And as I sit using the cherished resume for scrap paper to scribble my thoughts, I realize that doing my part is not volunteering for as many projects as possible just to be “involved”. Or ranting about the injustices of the world to anyone with the patience to listen.
The best thing I could ever do for the people the rest of the world seems to have forgotten is to always see them.
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