Devil Went Down to Georgia

I'm at my new camp in Suches, GA now, and I absolutely love it. My second day here I went sliding down a waterfall in freezing weather with some of my co-counselors.



At my last camp, I had been facilitating drum circles with my djembe and then letting campers use buckets and other things to make noise. I started doing it here at my new camp since one of the master counselors has built up a nice collection of drums, and it's been really successful! After we play as a group, we discuss the dynamics of leadership and harmony within the group and how it comes out when we play.



When the parents came to take their kids home for Thanksgiving, I did a drum circle workshop to show them what we were working on, and afterwards a parent approached my boss and noted that there weren't enough drums for everyone to play, and then offered to buy as many drums as we needed. AWESOME. My boss is also talking about sending me to a percussion/djembe/drum circle facilitator clinic to really boost this program. Friggin sweet. AND we're talking about taking a group on a surfing trip to Florida sometime in the winter. I'm happy.

And for all other things that can't be described in words, here's a snippet of what I've been up to:


Finally, I should note that I don't get cell phone reception out here, and I drive into town maybe once a week at the most. However, I do love snail mail! Here's my new mailing address:

4970 Camp Rd
Suches, GA 30572

End of the Road

Alright, now for the real update. True to the title of my blog, I've moved. I've transferred from a state-run camp in Candor, NC to a private camp in Suches, GA.

It was hard to leave my last camp, mostly because of the people I'd grown close to-- both campers and staff. My last week was an emotional rollercoaster. I had campers cussing me out and saying they couldn't wait until the day I left, but then hours later crying and telling me I was like a family member... and that if the campers at my new camp didn't treat me right, they'd take a day trip over to Georgia to "set them straight".

I felt so uncertain about my decision to transfer. At first I thought it was a good time to leave because I didn't have strong ties to any particular group. I was bouncing around from group to group with no real sense of ownership. But when I saw the reactions to my decision, I realized that I had built bonds with a few individuals, and that leaving them would feel like severing limbs from my body. It's hard to separate your professional life from the personal when you feel less like an authority figure and more like a mother.

At my How-Out (goodbye ceremony), one of my campers didn't say any goodbyes, but instead just started singing to me:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MxiqAZVC8Hw


I think the kids were taking bets on who would make me cry the most, and this guy was a serious contender. As much as it made me sad to leave, I'm confident that the timing was right, and that there are good chiefs there who will continue to show love, care, and support to the kids.

LEAF Fall 2009

I met my friend Michelle again at the Lake Eden Arts Festival on October 17th-19th. This is a bi-annual hoodang and as a music festival junkie, I feel qualified to say that this one is unlike all others.

Here's a montage of some clips I took at the festival this Fall:


I love this shindig because:
1. It has brought in some of the most talented international artists I've ever seen and has introduced me to a variety of other cultures' indigenous instruments.
2. It's an interactive experience. From didjeridoo workshops to contact improv dance classes, the festival pulls you in as a participant so that you are not merely an observer/critic. Everyone is encouraged to bring their instruments and there are jam tents set up all over. Every stage is set in front of a dance floor to encourage anyone and everyone to contribute artistically.

3. Bon fire drum circle dance party. 'Nuff said.
4. It's a big camping trip in a beautiful location. It's centered around a lake with a zip-line and water slide
5. It's community/family oriented, and it's rather small, so I would recognize familiar faces all weekend rather than feeling like I was swimming in a mob at all times. This small community feeling seemed to hold people accountable to their actions. Much like the whole don't-fart-in-an-elevator-because-everyone'll-know-you-did-it rule, people were very considerate and kept the campgrounds clean.

Here's another video that someone put together of this fall's festival:

24th Revolution Around the Sun (and other things that make full circles)

I had a good birthday. I went to see the Avett Brothers live in Charleston, SC with my friend Michelle.

Michelle (Misa) was one of the twelve palagi who studied in Samoa with me-- who was branded with me, and who pulled me through the trauma of my drowned iPod. Some of my happiest memories in Samoa were just singing with her. We'd pick a random song (usually 90's... often Weezer) and just sing our hearts out, and even though neither of us were outstanding vocalists, singing with her was better than listening to any danggone iPod. I discovered music in a new dimension-- a "non-verbal" form of communication that forms real bonds between people.

I'm proud to say that I turned her onto the Avett Brothers. I sat in our "computer lab" all day (literally) just to download two songs (Nothing Short of Thankful and Colorshow). Then we sat in our ofisa and listened to them on repeat in dead silence. The Avett Brothers' music will probably always make me nostalgic about Samoa (as I've said before).

It was only fitting that Michelle and I would reunite for the first time since Samoa at an Avett Brothers concert.

Footage from that concert:


And here's a lil' clip of one of my campers singing to me when I came home:

River Trip Recap (day 1-8 plus a mooovie!)

I'm home! I just got back from a two week canoe trip. We paddled almost 100 miles into South Carolina and I think we've all got sponge foot. Here's a video I threw together of video clips and photos:



Day 1
So yeah. When we left, we loaded our gear onto the river in our canoes in record time (20 minutes to load two weeks worth gear for 16 people!) We were so proud of ourselves and paddled our way to our first campsite, where we discovered that we left our tarps-- essential equipment to keep us dry if it rains and to set our gear on if we happen to need to camp on a sandbar (sand gets in EVERYTHING). It was here that I also discovered dilemma #2-- my monthly visitor came to join me. As the only female on the trip out of 15 males, I had no realistic way of explaining why I was so irritable or why I had to go back into the forest behind the big trees so often.

Day 2
By the second day, I was already feeling uncomfortable. The heat really started getting to me (especially because my company has a policy that we cannot wear shorts on the river trip. Something about bug bites, poison ivy, and sunburns).
I was paddling along, when I hear "Chief! Somebody is in the water! You gotta get back there!"
I was frenzied... my canoe partner had never paddled before and we struggled trying to maneuver upstream. By the time I got near, I discovered that it was my best swimmer that went in the water, so I stopped stressing. It turned out that he got stung in the face 3 times by a wasp and then just gave up and jumped in. I was disappointed, first, because it took me so long to get to him. Second, because I missed an opportunity to jump in the water and cool off! When I got into my tent that night, I had large rashes and boils all up and down my body.

Day 3
The next day was a layover day. We came upon a State Park, and another wilderness therapy program had come through a week or so before and trashed the place. After some wheelin' and dealin', my camp director was able to get us a few nights there under the condition that we'd perform community service picking up litter along the roads. We were walking up the road sweating profusely, when a man stopped his tractor in front of us and asked us if we'd like something to drink. I consented for everybody and we made our way to his front lawn. His wife came out with a pitcher of ice water and cups, and then offered to fill up each of our water bottles. We told the man that we were an alternative wilderness program for at risk youth, and he told us he was a pastor. When we left, he told us to rest knowing that somebody who doesn't even know any of us will be praying for us. That night all my kids agreed that that was the highlight of the day. After finishing community service, we paddled to a spot out of the moving current where we could swim and wash our clothes. Several of my kids made comments that they "didn't know you could just wash your clothes in the river just like that". I think a lot of them felt really good about themselves and their new found skill, even if their clothes didn't smell just like they would if mom had done 'em.

Day 4
The next day we loaded up our canoes to get back out on the river. It started pouring down rain, so we pulled our canoes over to shore to pass out ponchos. The cool rain boosted the morale of our heat exhausted crew. We pulled off to set up camp on a sandbar that I knew was a bad idea. The moment I saw it, I thought "this looks like gators, mosquitos, and snakes". However, it was relatively close to a main road with a store.

Day 5- Day 6
We decided to have another layover day at this location, so that our camp director could swap out with my friend/ co-chief Jamie (another female!) and so that they could bring a camper who had been away at his grandfather's funeral. This was one of our roughest nights, as many of our kids were tired, dirty, and wondering if this river trip was really all I'd hyped it up to be. Plus, I was absolutely right about the mosquitos, gnats and sand fleas. Rainy day+sand bar= bad news. Normally, my co-counselors and I would have focused on them having fun and we'd dismiss bad behavior/disrespect, but since we had a layover day, we decided to keep the kids up and address problems. And by we, I mean my co-counselor, Richard (who is from Ghana and I'm sure his excess energy can be attributed to this) did most of the work dealing with the kids on this night. I just kinda sat there and nodded for moral support.

Day 7
The day after, we got on the river and I think my paddling buddy got sick of me. I can be very type-A/Virgo/controlling. When we pulled off the river to set up camp, it was pouring down rain and we struggled trying to decide how we would eat our dinner. Luckily, I had some resourceful campers and co-chiefs who set up a fly tarp over our fire. They cooked some Pep-Mac which was sandy, yet delicious.

Day 8
This day we woke up and it took us a bit to get on the river. We switched up our canoe partners, and I was with another camper who was terrified of water. We stopped for lunch right under a bridge because we were nearly out of water and it was a short 20 minute walk to the store to fill up our jugs. While we waited on the others to get water, I worked with my Shining Star trying to teach him how to swim. I was in knee-high water and asked him to sit in it (with a life-vest on) and he freaked out. This kid is terrified of water. He finally worked up the courage to float around while walking on his hands, and I think that was a highlight of the trip for both of us. He was screaming "I'm swimming!"... I was screaming "you're swimming!". It was real cute. I gave a stink eye to anyone who laughed and said otherwise. While this is happening, the rest of my kids were playing WWF. When he got back in the boat with me, he went back to being a brat. He freaked out at one point and threatened to get on land and start walking towards a main road.

I'm out of time and it's probably best that I don't post everything, anyway. Here's a couple finishing thoughts that may or may not be edited later... gimme some time to process it all...

This job has compelled me to become a more spiritual person. I wouldn't say religious, cause I really have no idea what to believe in when it comes down to the details of it all... but I do know that I can say I believe in a God that unites all people from all backgrounds.

I strategically read Lord of the Flies to them at night while they were settling into their sleeping bags. So often at camp, they complain about how they hate adults telling them what to do. So I gave them the 411 about what life might look like if they were on their own struggling with the forces of nature. They really got into it, and inserted themselves as characters "Chief, do you think I'm kinda like Ralph... and *Arnold's kinda like Piggy? I mean, he's the nerd after all... and I'm the only one who's got any sense around here."

Deliverance

Right now I've got about 10 minutes to post before I make myself go to bed. I kinda feel as I did in Samoa-- overwhelmed by living out of my "comfort zone"... always feeling like there's never enough time to make the most of these unique experiences...

This will probably be my last night at my time off house in the next month. Right now I'm packing for a river trip I'm taking with my group on the Lumber River. For 14 days, we'll wake up each morning around 5, pack up our stuff, gather wood/cook our food... then paddle a few miles to our next spot to set up camp/gather wood/cook food. And if we have enough time, we'll fish and swim and play! I'm so stinkin' excited.

A good portion of my kids didn't know how to swim before they came to camp... and were afraid to even go near water. That's been a funny concept for me to wrap my mind around... because I just assumed that maybe 2% of the world population didn't know how to swim. And yet at camp, it feels like 2% of the population did know how to swim before coming to camp. Being one of 3 lifeguards at our camp, I feel a little pressure when it comes to water safety.

This afternoon as I was working with them and teaching them how to paddle a canoe, I had one kid scared out of his pants. He was acting really squirrely and trying not to show it, but when we got to the part where he had to tip the canoe, he started freaking out. I waited in the water for him, and after he tipped and then realized that he wasn't drowning and that I wouldn't let him drown... he eased up, pulled himself back into the canoe, and the rest of the afternoon he was a paddling machine. That was a rewarding moment. I love this kid.





Random tangent: I just watched Deliverance for the first time last week. I absolutely loved it-- it resonated through the core of my being. I love the scene where they're trying to decide whether to be honest "law-abiding" citizens who would confess to the county for murdering somebody... and then Burt Reynolds steps in and goes "What LAW!? Where's the LAW out here?" I swear I've thought that before. In the "wilderness", there's so many variables that it seems laughable that a written law would suffice to bring justice into a community. It seems that laws can only work when there's a solid community of people who believe in outcomes for certain behaviors. Laws make us think that the world works in a predictable way... when it's anything but that...

Love doesn't happen haphazardly. It is a conscious decision.

Be patient with teenagers.

A hand on someones shoulder can calm someone down faster than a thousand comforting words.

If you wake up with gnats all over you... You better bring a rain jacket.

Don't snap at children when they make racist/ sexist/ other discriminatory comments... But do ask a million questions to help them understand what they are saying.

Shower. Read. Write. Sleep.

Tonight I told my boys I'd be peeing in a bucket and that it would go in my tent with me while I slept... (just as i did when i was in a girls group) And after a moment of awkward silence where everyone was busy mentally dissecting the fact that my pissing ritual is different from theirs, my quietest most supportive camper said " uh uh chief it ain't gonna go down like that".

I'm still in my tent laughing. I dunno... Guess you had to be there? But gah I love my little chivalrous juvies!!!

Life at camp

Cleaning out my car was like cleaning out my brain. So therapeutic!

So here's an update on the goings-on in my life.

There are only 4 out of 12 girls left in my original group. Some graduated successfully, and others were exited (meaning they left the program "unsuccessfully"). The hardest thing about this job has been letting go of these kids, and knowing that there are some I can only help so much.

I'm going to a boys group permanently starting tomorrow. I'm definitely gonna miss working with my girls, but this will be a nice change. So far every time I've been in a boys group, I've had an awesome time. They've been very physically active, whereas my girls seemed to loathe hiking anywhere or partaking in group games. I could go on about this, but if pictures/videos are worth a thousand words then I'll spare myself some typing:

Motel 6 writers block

I checked into a Motel 6 so that I could have some time alone and that I could just sit and write. I feel I've got a lot of important things I need to get out, but at the same time I don't really have anything of importance to say at all.

I really just wanna go clean out my car. I bet if I had a clean car I wouldn't have had to pull into a Motel 6 to think... Yes... I'll go clean out my car...

iB::Topic::Survivor: Samoa Contestant Spoilers

http://www.survivorskills.com/cgi-bin/ikonboard/ikonboard.cgi?act=ST&f=96&t=6749

Sent from my iPhone

list of blunt points number... purple?

GAH too much to blog about. Not enough time. I'm sacrificing a shower for time to post this list of blunt points

1. Four of my girls were exited from the program. I'm sad...
2. Spiders are EVERYWHERE. And I got chiggers. I hate um.
3. I went surfing with a buddy last weekend during a storm and dolphins came right up next to us!
4. There was a nasty thunderstorm last week and one of our groups got knocked to the ground from the lightning.
5. I spent my weekend at the Lake Eden Arts Festival. I am a contra-dancin', didgeridoo playin, drum circle bandit!
Here's a clip of me goin' down a waterslide:)

6. Matrimony. Holy matress money.

From Waves to Couches...

The past three weekends I've spent my time off with couchsurfers. Couchsurfing.com is an online community of people (usually travelers/nomadic types) who participate in either surfing a local's couch or in hosting visitors. When I first heard about couchsurfing from my oldest brother, I thought the idea was insane. Why would anyone voluntarily consent to a stranger staying at their house?

A clip on couchsurfing:


As I got into traveling, I went through a progression of changes that I think most couch-surfers go through:

1. discovering that there's more to a city than what you can read on wikitravel (to understand the customs/culture of any given region, it's wise to consult a local);
2. being in a situation foreign to everything you're used to, and being left with no choice but to trust a complete stranger with your life;
3. understanding what it's like to try to build a home away from what you had previously called home;
4. realizing that you might not really know where/what home is, thus suddenly longing to root yourself in a new community;
5. blamo! couchsurfing doesn't seem that weird anymore.

*Soap Box Alert*
I think this is a revolutionary project as it teaches us to overturn our individualistic American tendencies by opening up our "private property" to a community of strangers. Communal lifestyles have traditionally worked best in closed environments where people don't move around much (like islands) because if somebody does wrong (i.e. steals from you), they cannot run from their mistake. Because people are more mobile than ever, it seems as though communal living should be a thing of the past, and that nobody should be able to trust anyone. But this project defies these laws.

*stepping off the box*

There's a group of us from Raleigh that have been meeting up on the weekends to go to concerts, surfing (as in, the wave kind), Euro dance parties and so on. This weekend I missed the Raleigh couchsurfer activities as I headed to Black Mountain for LEAF. I drove up to the festival, and arrived 5 minutes after they closed the gate, meaning I wouldn't be able to camp there that night. Bah humbug! I drove into a grocery store parking lot and calculated exactly how much leg room I'd have in the back seat of my car if I did some re-arranging so that I could sleep there for the evening. Then I remembered a guy from Asheville that had messaged me some time ago about wanting to take a job in wilderness therapy, so I got on my handy iPhone and looked up his number. The phone conversation couldn't have been more awkward. It was late and I was rude for calling, but he and his roommates were more than gracious and let me stay the night-- even when he had to leave for a wedding the next day. Anyway, it happened that he just started training for a wilderness therapy program up in Asheville, and so we had a good time swapping stories about that stuff.

Getting more involved in couchsurfing has been one of the best decisions I've made since moving out here. Sometimes with my job I seriously feel like my sanity is at stake. I'm living with hormonally imbalanced juvenile delinquents, and sometimes I'll go days without even seeing somebody "normal". It's so easy to get caught up in camp life. But then when I meet people outside of camp--I'll be talking to someone-- and as soon as the job thing comes up, it's almost like I'm telling them I'm from another country that they've never even heard of. So I feel like a foreigner.

With couchsurfers though, it feels like I'm meeting "my people" for the first time, and yet it feels like I've known them forever. Every person I met has a good-natured unassuming quality to them. They also don't have the "I've got my social circle and you're not a part of it" vibe. It makes me realize how many people are trying to build a home away from home, or how many people are still trying to figure out where home is. f They don't judge me for being unsettled in my life, and yet they're some of the most inspiring people I've met. It doesn't make sense that a group of wanderers could form a community, but here we are...

Che

April 18, 2009 (my computer's been funky and wouldn't allow me to publish this until now)

I just got out of the woods this afternoon, and I'm back to wondering what the heck I'm doing with my life.

In the 8th grade, I read Animal Farm and (in an abstract sense) learned what communism had been and why it didn't work out. Then in college I got into Marx and Rousseau and began to understand how capitalism came to be, and where the natural progression of dialectic materialism would take us...

Then when I went to Samoa I saw communism in practice, and I was inspired.  Sure, there's a "government" in place, but the real work starts in the villages.  When I came back to the States, it felt so difficult to try to insert myself back into the capitalist machine... so I took a job in the woods of North Carolina making half of what I would if I just threw in the towel and went back to working in politics.

I just got back from seeing Che, and now I'm reminded of the haunting question of what the heck I'm doing with my life. Halfway through the movie, a dead sweat and cold panic swept over me. I realized I still lived in America, I still had enough money to go to the movie theater (and go out for pizza afterwards!) What's gonna happen when I get outta the woods? I need to move to South America. Yeah... Argentina... Yeah! But... how can I be a part of the anti-American revolution when I'm so obviously American?  I'm so bourgeois, it ain't even funny, yo.

The Beauty and the Mess

The beauty and the mess of a "non-punitive" wilderness therapy program is that there's little-to-no incentive for the youth to follow directions from their authority figure. But when things got all "Lord of the Flies" down in campsite a few weeks in a row, my girls began to realize the benefits of having authority figures.

Last week went pretty well. My group (not just individual girls) was actually looking to me for advice/ directions. They worked their butts off just to make me happy. We cleaned our campsite inside and out and chopped tons of wood.

Annitta had her court date and was sent to a youth detention center (basically jail for kids)... but if she does well she can come back within one to three weeks. She's been in my thoughts and prayers... she's such an intelligent and morally conscious girl... and I sincerely doubt these are attributes she would "fake". But what is she doing hangin around the people she's hanging around and doing the things she's doing? What happens when she gets out of camp and has to face negative influences again? Why am I stressing over this stuff on my time off?

Goons Be Lurkin'

In one week I've had higher highs and lower lows than any other time in the woods. Monday night, my girls had just returned from their visit home, and they were acting a little... off. Every time we went into community*(1), my girls would make a big scene and made Blood references any time a particular group was near**(2). Two girls were leading the pack-- Annitta and Hallie*(3).

Annitta was secretly my favorite girl in the beginning-- the one who told me I was her inspiration/role model. She was charged for armed robbery in a gang initiation back in November, and yet admitted that she didn't want to live that life anymore and wanted my help. She had been focused on making change at camp up until two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago Hallie came to camp. She reminds me of all the popular girls I knew in middle school who burned out too soon. On her initial visit, she was screaming and crying that she'll never come to this stupid camp. But when she did, the first person she befriended was Annitta. Almost as soon as this happened, I noticed a turn for the worst in my entire group.

When my girls came back from their visit home, I noticed a group of around 8 of them were calling themselves goons*(4). From Tuesday afternoon until Thursday, the 7 ran "out of bounds" together a number of times... and every time right before they did, like clockwork, they'd say "my goons be luuurkinnnn..." and then they'd run. Sometimes I'd be able to chase them (if I had another chief with me), other times I'd have no choice but to just call in on my radio and hope that somebody else would be available to deal with it. The girls that were being caught and restrained were fighting back more than usual-- hitting/biting me and grabbing at my hair. When they were all brought back to campsite, I tried to supervise carefully by standing in their tents, but found myself having things thrown at me and people physically trying to push me out. I expressed to my supervisor, "My girls have gone CRAZY. I seriously think they're on something."  She, a seasoned veteran who had been in the woods for as long as I'd been alive, told me with a raised eyebrow that they must have smuggled in contraband.  I didn't put the two together... but sure enough...

Wednesday morning, one of my slower functioning campers came up to me and said "Chief Mandy! Do you know where Hallie and Annitta got those smarties?? OMG they puttin smarties up they nose in the bathroom!!"  

I called an "underground huddle" (*8) and was told by another campter that Hallie had smuggled in what she claimed were "smarties" that she was crushing and sniffing in the bathroom, along with makeup and cigarettes that she stuffed in tampon applicators (and then resealed the container with glue!). On top of that, Hallie and Annitta both had smuggled in cell phones...

The "snitch" led my supervisor to where Annitta and Hallie had buried their phones. The other girls were livid, and were ready to beat her ass for snitchin, so when she came back, I told her to go to my tent. After she went in, I blocked the entrance with my body while three girls charged to get past me. At first I shifted to block Annitta with my left arm, then Hallie with my right arm and leg, but when Judy rushed me I fell to the ground face first with my chin and stomach to the rocks while the others walked over me. Hallie and Annitta stood hovering and screaming over a terrified and balled-up Kathleen in the brief moment I was on the ground,  but then stormed out when I got up.

Watching the girls unsettled behavior, I knew that the cell phones, the "smarties", the violent threats and Blood references were only small pieces to a larger puzzle. It killed my nerves, and I don't think I slept more than 4 hours that whole week. I read that after having children, mothers have a hard time sleeping and are more likely to suffer from insomnia, and I'm starting to understand why that is. It's not as stressful when I have a co-chief, but when I'm the only chief in group, I feel as though I can't ever let my guard down or allow myself to think of anything but their safety, because if I make one mistake they could be put in danger.

And I learned the truth to this perception on Thursday morning. I had been watching them like a hawk, but on our way to meet with a teacher, I accidentally left the med bag and my radio behind*(5). I didn't want the girls to know that I didn't have the radio (because they could easily take advantage of that and run immediately), so I whispered my predicament to the teacher, and left her with my group while I told them that I just needed to take a girl to the bathroom. Once we returned, the girls were gone. Four of them had left, and nobody was following them.

Throughout the day I sat with the remaining girls trying to get bits and pieces of information-- descriptions of the clothes they had on as well as descriptions of the clothes they wore under their camp clothes (because if they made it off property, they wouldn't want be mistaken as kids from the wilderness camp and would strip to something else). Everybody had their radio on, teachers, nurses, spouses and even dogs were combing through the woods and circling nearby highways trying to find these girls. The police stations in Montgomery county were alerted and actively searching. Wal Marts in the area were being shut down for the day because of gang initiations that were to take place (which usually involve shooting innocent people... I later found out that my girls had made a stop at Wal-Mart on their escape...) The girls that left weren't messing around.   Ten long hours passed, and I was terrified of what might become of the four. 

Tha Crossroads

While four of my girls were missing, of the 8 goons there were four that chose to stay behind. One of which was Rhonda. She's a big girl with an intimidating stature, and is a girl of few words... because the words she does say aren't taken lightly by anyone. She's my greatest ally, and always supports my decisions and helps enforce it with the girls. It seems that the kids who really are in gangs are the most well-behaved, because they are just doing their time so they can get back to work.

For the past month or so, after I've put the other girls down for bed, I've been sitting by her bed talking with her every other night about her past and where she wants to go in the future. It took her time to open up to me and describe how she doesn't have much of a family anymore due to gang-related violence. Many of her family members shot and killed-- her own brother was shot in front of her eyes. She wasn't "blessed" into the gang... she was banged in*(6). Her mom lives in Atlanta and is still doing drugs. When she told me all this, she finally burst into tears and said I just wanna be my momma's little girl again. I sat and cried with her (though it was dark, so nobody saw) with my arm around her still and silent.

When I asked her what she was going to do once she got out of camp, she said she didn't know... and that she can't see herself living outside of the gang because they're the only "family" she's got. I asked her, "what about Brittany?" who is her 2 year old niece... and she replied "well, the same thing that happened to me is gonna happen to her too... ain't nothin I can do about that."

Even as stubborn as she pretends to be about changing, I can tell part of her is soft and looking for another way. She's been writing poems that speak against hate and violence but also express a hopelessness as though they are inevitable parts of her life. One night, she handed me a piece of paper and asked me to burn it in "pow-wow"* (7). It was crumpled up and didn't burn all the way through, so when I opened it after she had gone to bed, it read

"John Smith*(3)
3-09-08
RIP
Wrong place at the wrong time"

Because she's used to gang culture, she's a vault when it comes to taking the blame and holding information. When it came to making gang calls in community, Rhonda took the blame when I knew it was Annitta's voice I heard. Then, when the group was addressed for having "white powder", Hallie and Annitta were quick to say that Rhonda brought it, and Rhonda assertively claimed that it was hers. I called their bluff, and said to Hallie, "how dare you put that on her, and try to put it past me like I'm stupid," and then told Rhonda how disappointed I was that she would jeopardize all the growth that she'd been making for another girl's mistake. Its been so frustrating to see so much potential for Rhonda, but that she refuses to see this in herself. While the girls were gone, I gave her a good "talkin'-to" about this, while she sat silently without making eye contact (as she usually does when she's actually listening).

When the four girls returned late Thursday night, I was expecting for them to come in bragging about their escape with cocky attitudes... and to go right back to bullying the rest of the group. My expectations were correct, but they didn't just step right back into their positions of power. Rhonda spoke up and let them have it. She stood up for the girls that "snitched" and spoke against the goons that ran-- telling them "it's not funny, it's not cool, and you're playin' with your life".

When I see change in my girls, it's never when they accept and do the things that I tell them, but when they can teach other girls how to overcome the things I've talked about with them. And it's in these moment that I am changed. I am moved, and I am fulfilled by this continuation of experience, of knowledge, of love... and what feels like a continuation of life itself. Dear GOD, this is what living is about...



_________________________________________________*(1)community-the central area where all groups meet to eat meals
*(2)Groups aren't supposed to communicate with other groups for several reasons-- a big one being because of gang affiliations and the danger of gang activity taking place at camp
*(3)names changed for HIPAA
*(4)goon- nick-name for a low-ranking Blood member. They're the ones doing the dirty work-- carrying out hits and dealing drugs, so that the higher-ups can be safe of prosecution. They're usually under 18 so that they can avoid doing time as an adult.
*(5)chiefs carry this with us everywhere. med bag is essential for emergencies... but in my case the radio was absolutely essential in case any of my girls were to try to run out of bounds and I couldn't follow them
*(6)getting" blessed" into a gang is sometimes granted to a sister of a high ranking male, but getting "banged" in means the female is initiated by having (most often unprotected) sex with numerous members of the gang
*(7) pow-wow is where we evaluate our day individually and as a group... and reflect on our lives in and out of camp
*(8) an underground huddle is something I would call if I knew they were keeping a secret from me or being dishonest, and they would be granted immunity from punishment if they owned up to it without being prompted

something about Rosa Parks, Ani DiFranco, and... fish?

Welp, here I am on my time off and I had a pretty good week. The week before was a rough one-- one of my favorite girls graduated from the program, and the remaining girls were taking their frustrations out on me...

And I go on in detail about the different challenges I've been facing. But yeah... that was a pretty rough week.

On my time off after that week, I returned to the water (the beach is only 2.5 hours from me). And it did me a world of good. Fish can't be out of water for too long. There's something so therapeutic in watching the ebb and flow of water... and watching water crash down onto the shore displacing objects that once seemed fixed.

When I returned to the woods, one of my girls had drawn me a picture of a seashell and she wrote "thanks for not quitting on us..." <== redeeming moment that makes me wanna do this job even if I were paid a nickel an hour!

Wednesday was "Chief Appreciation Day" where all the chiefs drove out to Dave and Busters to have a meal and play some video games away from the kids. It was kinda funny because nobody had the opportunity to shower so we just showed up stinky and in our camp clothes... and we all just stared blankly at the TV as though it were a totally foreign object. When I returned my campers gave me this poster:

... yet another redeeming moment:)

Then thursday I had a family conference where I got to meet the kids' parents and talk with them about some of our issues this past session as a group before I let them go on their home visit. Something I would like to focus on next session is helping them find self worth without seeking male approval... but that's all I got. All in all, it was a transforming session.

THEN because all my girls got to go home, I had 4 days of time off! I went to Asheville and stayed in a hostel/ tried (and failed) to get into a sold-out Ani DiFranco show/ soaked up all the rich white liberal gunk I could stand.

Tomorrow is day one of a new 5 week session and I am ready (for once).

3 months

I'm not sure if it's because I'm sleep deprived or if there's something wrong with me, but I really don't have anything nice to say. Just a lot of depressing thoughts that will stay in my paper journal.

Everyone told me to prepare for the worst with this job-- to expect to be hated by my kids by my third month. When I imagined the worst, I forgot to include the notion that these kids are all I know. They're my best friends. My worst enemies. The little sisters I never wanted.

It used to feel like "home" was at my time off house, but now it's in my tent. My time off house and everything outside of the woods feels foreign. I'd been seeing a guy who works at another camp since I started this job, and as awesome of a guy as he is, I feel so emotionally drained by the end of the week that I can't really do my part to make a relationship work. We get together, and we say "let's not talk about work"... and then we're both rendered silent.

Somehow I just feel lonely.

Welp, I gotta wake up in about 6 hours and head back into the woods. Now is the time when I should stop thinking about myself and focus on how I can help my kids... so here's a little pick-me-up pep talk

"First it is a challenge. Secondly you have to learn to prepare meticulously, for your life may depend on the thoroughness and extent of your planning. You have to get off your tail and spur yourself to get going. You have to leave your comfortable slot and go out where things are rough. You have to push into the background the worry of the less likely hazards and make some bold judgements about the more probable ones.

You learn not to be frightened by fear. You discover what a fine piece of machinery the human body is and that it can take a tremendous amount of stress before it breaks down. You learn to make decisions and gradually you find your make fewer and fewer mistakes. Your confidence grows and you discover human resources which are ready to be called upon in time of future crises. You learn something about human frailties and develop sympathy for those weaker or less competent than yourself’; you learn to make a team out of group of individuals.

Adventurous experiences out-of-doors are perceived to kindle the enthusiasm of the young, to develop their concern for others, for their community and for the environment. Such experiences provide the means of self-discovery, self-expression and enjoyment which are at once both stimulating and fulfilling.

It thus emerges that, for young people and adults alike, Outdoor Adventure is perceived as a vehicle for building values and ideals, for developing creativity and enterprise, for enhancing a sense of citizenship, and for widening physical and spiritual horizons.”

Another list of incohesive and blunt points

1. Nobody 'fessed up to sending the CDs. It's driving me nuts! But it also gives me something to fantasize about. My imagination has had time to wander and I have since made up my mind that I do, indeed, have a secret admirer. Now, I'm debating as to whether said secret admirer is Jake Gyllenhaal or Chris Brown... or Jesse McCartney?
   
2. I've got so many stories I don't even know where to begin. Last week alone, I had one suicidal girl go "out of bounds" for 3 hours past our bedtime, and I broke apart a total of 3 fights-- one of which occurred during showers just after I asked my girls Chief Mandy really has to use the bathroom, can you handle yourselves? And just as my pants are down and I'm getting to business, I hear blood-curdling screams. I ran out just in time to catch two half-naked girls in an all-out cat-fight-- just in time to pry ones hair from anothers' claws and separate the two altogether.
3. Every time I come out of the woods, I'm always shocked to see my appearance. I used to take great pride in my hands, but now they're calloused and cracked from cutting wood/tending fires/restraining the youth . It's especially entertaining to look at my body in the mirror and try to recall where all the bruises and cuts could have come from.
4. Hurrah economic stimulus package!!! I'm not so concerned with staying on top of the world as an economic superpower, but just the fact that we're finally cleaning up some of our domestic crap (putting more money into under-funded alternative/experiential education programs like the one where I work!)
5. To anyone who has ever raised a teenage girl- God bless you. They're at the age where they're old enough to be able to carry on an intelligent conversation/forge the appearance of being emotionally mature... but young enough to have the impulses of a child/lack of a filter. I've heard some of the meanest things out of these girls mouths. I can usually brush it off, but after 5 days in the woods by myself with them, sometimes I forget that they're just kids and I take their disrespectful words/gestures seriously. This old Animaniacs clip is even funnier to me now:
   

6. Wanna know what I do on my time off?

And here's where I get lazy and let others articulate all the things I'm feeling/all the thoughts that are tossing 'round my head. Or maybe I'm just giving myself a pep-talk before I go back to the woods tomorrow...

Now I see the secret of making the best persons, it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.
- Walt Whitman

On experiential education (and how I want to live my life, in general)...

I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life; living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartanlike as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness out of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience.
- Henry David Thoreau

On helping my kids...
The experience of helping a fellow man in danger, or even of training in a realistic manner to be ready to give this help, tends to change the balance of power in a youth's inner life with the result that compassion can become the master motive.
- Kurt Hahn

On dealing with hard times...
Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way round or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves.
- Bruce Lee

WOWDANG

I received a package in the woods the other day without a return address and without any note... but there were two mix CDs. One with a mix of various songs that I like... and then one with Girl Talk. I wanted to say THANK YOU for sending those to me... just what I needed! But who are you, mysterious sender of awesome mix CDs?? I'd like to pretend that I've got a secret admirer ... but there's also a chance that somebody just forgot to throw their name/address on the envelope. Anyway, I'm assuming whoever sent it reads this blog, given that I posted my address here, so if you wanna 'fess up, I'm dying to know where this awesome music came from...

Manoan nuers make ya wanna slap ya mammy

One thing I love about my job is that it gives me the freedom to share and teach my otherwise useless hobbies/interests. My liberal arts education is paying off, and I absolutely love teaching them this junk! Lately, they've been learning:

• Greek mythology
• issues in human rights
• how to crochet
• how to do different gymnastics related things
• how to do the "stanky leg" (since they don't have access to the radio, I try to keep them updated on hip-hop culture)
• government formation-- ex: why we have a House of Representatives AND a Senate through metaphors and role playing
• yoga!-- I'll take them to the pond and talk them through the benefits of meditation/being aware of the body
• how to tell what time it is by looking at the stars/other astronomy things (thank you, astronomy class from SU!)
• what it's like for Samoan girls their age (I read them Sia Figiel's Girl in the Moon Circle)
• how to speak Samoan-- I've assigned each of them a number from 1-10 in Samoan, so whenever we "huddle up", they go around and say their number so I can get a head count.
  

One night, I had a "chuckwagon"* where I taught the campers basic samoan phrases/commands that could be used at camp, how to sing a song in Samoan, and then showed them pictures of my travels while I narrated the events. The kids got so into it and had so many questions that we went almost an hour past our education time. This was one of my best nights at camp and it made me so happy to see how much the kids got out of it.

For instance, meet LaKendra**. She's not the brightest of the bunch... she is 13 and has trouble with addition (7+7 is 12?), and yet she has soaked up the language better than anyone else. Unbelievable! She rarely turns in notes for chuckwagons, but she did on this occasion:


1. The nuers (numbers) in Manoan (samoan) are so pretty dat it'll make ya wanna slap ya mammy
2. some old lady making a dress or skirt out of bark!!! (this references the picture I showed the campers of fa'amuuli making tapa)
3. Special letter to Mandy
Hey chief how you doing? good? hope so. me? gucci. I'm just wanting to let you know that manoan is a glamorous place to be at and me it hot! Just stay out the ocean don't hang around dolphines/sharks/whales/fish/jellyfish/ i guess turtles.

Thank you, LaKendra. Alofa ia te oe.

*chuckwagon is an education period that a different chief takes on each night-- all groups participate and take notes for education credit.
**Names changed due to HIPAA

25 confessions

Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

1. It's funny to remember how I used to get offended at almost everything when I was in college.

2. I am a paranoid sleeper. If you wake me up in the middle of the night, don't take whatever I say personally. When I was living with my brother Nick in San Diego, every morning when he'd leave for work at 5 (even though I knew his routine) I'd pop up with fists clenched as soon as I heard the door open and scream "WHO THE **** IS THERE!?!?" This is also bad for me living in the woods, and I've cursed out a few deer.

3. For every blog post I publish, there's at least 5 more I've written that never get published for one reason or another.

4. I'm 23 years old and I still have secret crushes.

5. I'm a morning person.

6. I'm afraid of heights and spinning around on things. I've never been on a real rollercoaster.

7. I'd classify my style as "strictly functional", and I don't intentionally choose to mis-match my clothes, it just kinda happens.

8. I wear the exact same thing 5 days a week (and I don't shower either!)

9. If it weren't for HIPAA, I'd have a novel written about my adventures in the wilderness therapy field. And it'd be a best-seller. And I'd be rich.

10. Talking is such an overrated form of communication. I'd rather dance than talk with you. That's when you really learn who somebody is.

11. I love all things "do-it-yourself". It gives me a sense of control and self-reliance while the economy is all funky.

12. I believe I have a "sacred" place in my abdomen. It activates when I'm in love, when I'm at peace with nature, or when I feel spiritually connected to something. Sometimes I worry that if I were to ever get pregnant and have kids, I would lose that place.

13. I recently purchased "the complete idiots guide to personal finance in your 20s and 30s", and the latest CD by The Fray. No, I'm not embarrassed.

14. On my time out of the woods I worry about my girls way too much.

15. Whatever you just said is probably being tossed around in my head a million different ways.

16. I've got pretty slow reflexes, but I'm learning that I'm excellent at blocking punches/ understanding body movement (if that makes sense?)

17. I'm a calculated risk-taker. I live life like I'm gonna die, cause I'm gonna!

18. I think people who commit suicide are the kinds of people who would walk out on a bad movie at the theater. I'm not that kind of person. If I could put my finger on the thing that drives my life, it's curiosity (maybe mixed with a little hope?).

19. When speaking, I often don't complete sentences. I blame this on my older brothers, because growing up, they were my translators to my parents. To this day, I can blurt obscure phrases and grunts with them and somehow they know exactly what I mean.

20. I don't think I'm naive, I just consciously choose to believe that everything is gonna be alright, and I try to assume/look for the best in everyone/every situation.

21. Religion is a social thing for me. It's a metaphor, or a way to tell somebody else that I believe in great and unexplainable things, and that they can trust me. Go read Life of Pi, and you might just know what I mean.

22. Getting snail mail in the woods is the highlight of my week! Faulkner, Beau, Kati, Mom-- You guys rule.

500 Eku Sumee Dr.
Candor, NC 27229

23. Have you ever read Salinger's 9 stories (particularly, bananafish and masked bandit) and then watched The Fall? Do it. And then get back to me on this one.

24. I'm fairly certain I'll become the crazy cat (/dog?) lady. I think it'd be fun to have a collection and name them after controversial political figures. "Hu Jintao! Give Vladmir Putin back his squeaky toy!"

25. Doing this last one gives me a lot of anxiety. Maybe because I hate finishing projects. I'd rather stay up all night and tweak this last one than get it over with. I'm awkward with goodbyes too...

An old post I forgot to publish

January 2, 2008
I'm writing this from the comfort of my time-off house located an hour away from the woods. I've gotta preface this post with an apology if my writing is a little awkward. I've been living with 13 year old girls and my vocabulary is suffering as a result.

I've been working for a little over a month and my eyes are widening every day. I work at a co-ed camp where there are 2 girls groups and 3 boys groups, and they aren't allowed to communicate with each other. I've got a group of 11 girls with the youngest being 13 and the oldest 16. Most of them are court ordered. 5 are African American, 4 Caucasian, 2 Latina. Offenses include assault on teachers, drug dealing, and armed robbery. Most came from abusive homes.



There are times when a 9-5 job looks rather attractive, like when I'm chasing girls through the woods in the rain and fog while slipping in mud. It'd be nice to have a job where all disputes were handled professionally... not having to physically restrain anyone and then worry about them swinging punches at me /trying to bite me. If I had a regular 9-5 job, I wouldn't have to worry about waking up to the sound of blood curdling screams because there's boys that snuck into our camp. And it's so dang cold at night. Even as adventurous as I am, I must admit that I sometimes wonder if I'd be better off confined to a cubicle and being a "paper-pusher".

But then there are those few moments that make me feel like I've got the most rewarding job in the world.

• Waking up to a family of deer in my campsite
• I love seeing how impressionable the girls are. I've been crocheting in any spare time I have, and now my girls are too. My girls asked me how my teeth are so white, and I told 'em it's cause I brush 'em twice a day, and now when I brush my teeth all my girls do too (according to my co-chief, this is outrageously unusual)
• Nights when my girls tell me that I'm their inspiration, and that they need me.
• All the little things that my girls do to make me laugh. Like when someone farts, they'll go "ooo check yo' drawers!"

*Due to HIPAA regulations, blogging about my job is kind of a big no-no, so there's only so much I can post.

Sing along for the common people

I came from a privileged background. I had 2 parents who loved me. Who fed me. Who encouraged me to go to school. Who didn't whore me out to people who could hook them up with drugs when I was 9. Who would write me if I was away. Who cared about me. To

I lived in a suburban neighborhood where I never worried about walking around at night. Never worried about getting gang-raped or shot. Never worried if my brothers would make it home okay at night. I've never taken part in armed robbery just so that my brother wouldn't leave my side. I've never had to witness one of my brothers being shot right in front of my eyes.

What am I doing in a job like this? How can I role model for these girls when I have no clue what it's like to grow up in the circumstances they grew up with?

I'll never understand how it feels to live their lives... I can't pretend I never went to school. And I'll never get it right, cause when I'm laying in bed at night watching roaches climb the wall, if I called my dad he could stop it all.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just singing along for the common people.

With this job, I don't feel like I'm doing anything noble. This doesn't make me a gracious person. I'm only doing it because I've had the luxury of living a privileged life-- where I know what it's like to have somebody love me. To me, this job isn't a noble quest for justice-- it's my social obligation to turn around and show that love and support that I knew growing up to somebody who's never received it.