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.