I'm not really the type of person that stresses easily, but lately, two words have been getting the best of me. My future. These words have been plaguing my thoughts as I've let my mind wander to December 11th, when my current AmeriCorps position ends. Question upon question fills my head, and once the first one is asked, the rest inevitably follow. What will I do next? Is it time for a real job? What does that even look like? Grad school? Do I want to delay life a little longer by traveling, etc.? What city do I want to live in? Should I stay in New Orleans? Move closer to family? I've always loved Chicago and Denver...? Maybe somewhere completely new? What about money? What am I doing with my life?
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
It's driving me crazy. And it needs to stop.
In the past, my outlook on life was to appreciate the moment and get everything out of it that you can. If you do this, not only will you often times be surprised by what you find, but opportunities tend to present themselves that you wouldn't have found anywhere else. Before this year, I pretty much just hung on for the ride; doing my best to enjoy every turn, loop, rise and fall along the way. Recently, I seemed to have strayed from that, but I'm going back.
Although scary, this is an amazing time in my life. I should be excited to see what is to come next, instead of fearing the search. I know I will forever look back and appreciate all the experiences I've had and the steps I'm taking to ensure I'm doing what I love.
This weekend, I had the opportunity to go Destin, FL and camp on the beach with some friends. While walking by the water yesterday, my mind got pulled into the motion of the waves and immediately kicked in with the questions of my future. Suddenly, I stopped myself. The fear of the future was getting in my way of appreciating where I was; on a three-day weekend, at a BEAUTIFUL beach, with amazing people and a Corona in my hand. I realized all my stress was ridiculous. I'm only 23 (almost 24) and my life is great right now. That's all I need.
Although difficult, it's time to let go of the questions, to let go of the stress, and to let go of that nagging fear. And instead, continue to appreciate now and start looking forward to what's ahead.
So future, Here I come.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Trying to put New Orleans architecture into words
In past blogs I've expressed my love for this city that I work in. This love stems from so many things this city has to offer, I don't really know where to begin. However, I was recently asked to write an article about the architecture of New Orleans from the aspect of my position, since we work everyday trying to preserve the beauty it brings. So I thought I'd share. I must admit, it was difficult trying to put so much history and ambiance into words.
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It’s impossible to explain to people what exactly made me fall in love with New Orleans. The city has a specific feel and unique culture that can’t be captured anywhere else. This culture is expressed through the music, the celebrations, the pride and acceptance of the citizens, and through the architecture. The architecture is something we strive to maintain in each of the homes we work on.
Each home has its own story, which starts to be revealed the moment we first pull up with our truck full of tools. Immediately, you can tell the style of the house. Many of the homes we work on are a shot-gun style home. This style is long and skinny and consists of around 5 rooms laid in single file, traditionally with no hallways. Its name stems from the idea that you can stand at the front door, shoot a gun, and have it exit through the back door with out hitting anything.
The exterior of the house takes on a personality of its own. Decorative brackets and trim paired with iron work add beautiful accents and will soon be painted brilliant colors that will rival the neighbor’s choice. A front porch is a must in this city and serves as thread work that keeps communities together. These elements are key pieces of New Orleans flair.
As we revive the houses, we do our best to reuse as much of the original materials as possible. We try and recover all the trim and molding, bead board (which is used for decorative walls), and mantel places. Each home tends to have at least one fireplace that can no longer be used, yet the detailed mantel is still standing strong to mark its place. Even the old wooden doors are saved, if possible, to be put back up in the house. Each is scraped of the old paint, with each layer revealing a glimpse into the families and storms it has seen and weathered before finally being covered with a fresh coat of paint.
The best thing about these homes is that many of the old details that are admired today were originally built that way to serve a purpose. The tall ceilings and large, strategically placed windows were built to improve ventilation and airflow in the humid climate of Louisiana. The lack of hallways was to reduce wasted space. And the cement foundations that raise the houses off the ground allow for the common flooding that occurs from living below sea level.
Each of the homes worked on by Rebuilding Together contains the architectural style that adds to the amazing character in which New Orleans is known. On top of getting home owners back into their houses, we have made it one of our top priorities to maintain the architecture that helps create the legacy of the city.
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It’s impossible to explain to people what exactly made me fall in love with New Orleans. The city has a specific feel and unique culture that can’t be captured anywhere else. This culture is expressed through the music, the celebrations, the pride and acceptance of the citizens, and through the architecture. The architecture is something we strive to maintain in each of the homes we work on.
Each home has its own story, which starts to be revealed the moment we first pull up with our truck full of tools. Immediately, you can tell the style of the house. Many of the homes we work on are a shot-gun style home. This style is long and skinny and consists of around 5 rooms laid in single file, traditionally with no hallways. Its name stems from the idea that you can stand at the front door, shoot a gun, and have it exit through the back door with out hitting anything.
The exterior of the house takes on a personality of its own. Decorative brackets and trim paired with iron work add beautiful accents and will soon be painted brilliant colors that will rival the neighbor’s choice. A front porch is a must in this city and serves as thread work that keeps communities together. These elements are key pieces of New Orleans flair.
As we revive the houses, we do our best to reuse as much of the original materials as possible. We try and recover all the trim and molding, bead board (which is used for decorative walls), and mantel places. Each home tends to have at least one fireplace that can no longer be used, yet the detailed mantel is still standing strong to mark its place. Even the old wooden doors are saved, if possible, to be put back up in the house. Each is scraped of the old paint, with each layer revealing a glimpse into the families and storms it has seen and weathered before finally being covered with a fresh coat of paint.
The best thing about these homes is that many of the old details that are admired today were originally built that way to serve a purpose. The tall ceilings and large, strategically placed windows were built to improve ventilation and airflow in the humid climate of Louisiana. The lack of hallways was to reduce wasted space. And the cement foundations that raise the houses off the ground allow for the common flooding that occurs from living below sea level.
Each of the homes worked on by Rebuilding Together contains the architectural style that adds to the amazing character in which New Orleans is known. On top of getting home owners back into their houses, we have made it one of our top priorities to maintain the architecture that helps create the legacy of the city.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
I was paying attention. I promise.
For work, all field workers had to sit in on a seminar about lead paint. It outlined the hazards and the extensive steps we must complete when scraping old paint from a simple window sill up to an entire house. The following is a glimpse into my wandering mind as I sat, riveted by the presentation.
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I listen to our presenter list all the precautions I must take in order to escape lead poisoning and I shake my head. If only people prior to 1978 had not built every home with a hazardous material, we could save much time and money. As a non-profit organization that is trying to build green consciously, now has to drape everything in plastic before we scrape the paint, plastic that must be thrown out afterward, not to be reused. Talk about increased waste. We must purchase special vacuums and equipment. It's expensive stuff. Also, we must have all volunteers wear a ty-vek suit (fits over entire body to protect from outside particles; there is no ventilation in these suits) when completing a scraping job, a job that already scores us an earful of complaints. Those suits are fun to wear in the humidity.
The thought of having to apply all of these practices makes me wish I could go back in time to beg and plead with these pre-1978 builders to NOT USE LEAD PAINT!! All that work, because they didn't know the dangers that would come from putting a little lead in the paint (it's suppose to help prevent mold). Which makes my mind wonder... what kind of things do we do now, that will cause someone to be sitting in a seminar in 30 years learning how to fix our mistakes?
I'm not going to take you on the scary journey my thoughts traveled from this point. You can ponder it. I would just like to apologize ahead of time to future generations. The sad part is that in many cases we can't even claim - We know not what we do. It's simply - We care not what we do.
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I listen to our presenter list all the precautions I must take in order to escape lead poisoning and I shake my head. If only people prior to 1978 had not built every home with a hazardous material, we could save much time and money. As a non-profit organization that is trying to build green consciously, now has to drape everything in plastic before we scrape the paint, plastic that must be thrown out afterward, not to be reused. Talk about increased waste. We must purchase special vacuums and equipment. It's expensive stuff. Also, we must have all volunteers wear a ty-vek suit (fits over entire body to protect from outside particles; there is no ventilation in these suits) when completing a scraping job, a job that already scores us an earful of complaints. Those suits are fun to wear in the humidity.
The thought of having to apply all of these practices makes me wish I could go back in time to beg and plead with these pre-1978 builders to NOT USE LEAD PAINT!! All that work, because they didn't know the dangers that would come from putting a little lead in the paint (it's suppose to help prevent mold). Which makes my mind wonder... what kind of things do we do now, that will cause someone to be sitting in a seminar in 30 years learning how to fix our mistakes?
I'm not going to take you on the scary journey my thoughts traveled from this point. You can ponder it. I would just like to apologize ahead of time to future generations. The sad part is that in many cases we can't even claim - We know not what we do. It's simply - We care not what we do.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
I am NOT a volunteer
"I am not a volunteer. I am a member of a National Service Organization." According to the extensive orientations given for both of my AmeriCorps positions, these are the words I am to say when asked about what exactly I do. Upon first hearing these instructions, I thought 'Why does this matter?' I can now honestly say that I think it does matter. And it should.
AmeriCorps is more than volunteering a few hours here and there when it can fit in the schedule. It is a way of life. I log 40+ hour a week, working Monday through Friday and occasionally weekend days. It is a full time job. I am responsible for things that others get paid to do. By being at Rebuilding Together, AmeriCorps allows them to accomplish things that would never be possible if they had to hire full-time staff to replace us. One AmeriCorps member means more volunteers that can be brought in, more tasks that can be completed, less time that it takes to complete a home, and ultimately more homeowners back into their homes. In return, I gain skills that I didn't have coming into the program. I am able to walk away with more experience and more confidence. For me, this is more than just giving up a year to do good things. This is an investment of my time.
"This is not a job, it is a year of service. I am not paid and am not on salary, I receive a living stipend." This is my staged response for any questions regarding my compensation.
In exchange for my time, AmeriCorps provides a living stipend. To me, 'stipend' is just a fancy way of saying below minimum wage. With this, I am responsible for paying all of my bills and extra spending. The stipend is set at a level that purposely places me below the poverty line. This design allows for complete understanding of the populations we are serving. Not only do we work with the community, but we live with the community.
Being on a tight budget creates a lifestyle of simple living and cheap entertainment. Luckily, New Orleans has a large AmeriCorps community, so you better believe word spreads quickly when something free or cheap is happening anywhere in the city. I'm learning that the simplicities of life are often more peaceful and enjoyable than the extravagances. It also causes you to be more aware and appreciative when life sends you a gentle blessing, like a free meal or Jazz Fest ticket.
"It is a government funded program that serves as an outlet for Americans to serve their country." How I would ultimately like AmeriCorps to be viewed. A branch of service, as respected and recognized as the branches of the military.
AmeriCorps is filled with individuals who are willing to dedicate time out of their lives to give back to the people of their country. They are bypassing the job market and a chance to move up in the corporate world where finances tend to be a little more comfortable, and instead lend a hand to their fellow citizens where the budget can be a little more meager.
Like the military, it is also filled with individuals who are searching for the next step in life. They are individuals who come straight from high school or college, some who need a break from school, and others who don't like the career path they have chosen. All want to serve their country, yet don't want to carry a gun.
AmeriCorps is evidence to what can happen when a group of individuals comes together to give back to their country. It shows how much can get done when people are dedicated to a cause. It proves how contagious service can be and how one small task spreads hope and brings completely different people together. After my year of service, my beliefs that helping your fellow citizen out, whether that mean your neighbor or someone struggling hundreds of miles away, is what brings a country together. Without the feeling of community, that tends to follow service, people would start to forget what makes our home great.
Recently, the GIVE act proposed was passed by the house, senate, and will be signed by Obama. This act is a huge step forward for the AmeriCorps program. It over triples the number of positions in the corps taking it from 75,000 to 250,000. It also updates the education award, which hasn't been altered since its start 15 years ago; $4,700 (before tax) may have gone somewhere over 15 years ago, but today it hardly makes a dent. Needless to say, I am utterly thrilled about this move. Although, since my eligibility for AmeriCorps is almost completely served I will not be able to directly reap the benefits, it will help those in the future who wish to take advantage of this opportunity.
Another positive that is coming from this proposal is some exposure. Something that ceases to amaze me is how many times, in the last year, I've given the AmeriCorps spiel. Well over 50% of people I meet have never heard of AmeriCorps, and if they have, than they still have no idea what it is. I, myself, had not heard of it as of 2 years ago. I happened to stumble across it while researching for a project at my practicum.
Thank you politicians and president Obama for recognizing the individuals that are dedicating a part of their lives to serve this country. Thank you also, for bringing awareness to the importance of AmeriCorps and what it can do for our country and its youth.
AmeriCorps is more than volunteering a few hours here and there when it can fit in the schedule. It is a way of life. I log 40+ hour a week, working Monday through Friday and occasionally weekend days. It is a full time job. I am responsible for things that others get paid to do. By being at Rebuilding Together, AmeriCorps allows them to accomplish things that would never be possible if they had to hire full-time staff to replace us. One AmeriCorps member means more volunteers that can be brought in, more tasks that can be completed, less time that it takes to complete a home, and ultimately more homeowners back into their homes. In return, I gain skills that I didn't have coming into the program. I am able to walk away with more experience and more confidence. For me, this is more than just giving up a year to do good things. This is an investment of my time.
"This is not a job, it is a year of service. I am not paid and am not on salary, I receive a living stipend." This is my staged response for any questions regarding my compensation.
In exchange for my time, AmeriCorps provides a living stipend. To me, 'stipend' is just a fancy way of saying below minimum wage. With this, I am responsible for paying all of my bills and extra spending. The stipend is set at a level that purposely places me below the poverty line. This design allows for complete understanding of the populations we are serving. Not only do we work with the community, but we live with the community.
Being on a tight budget creates a lifestyle of simple living and cheap entertainment. Luckily, New Orleans has a large AmeriCorps community, so you better believe word spreads quickly when something free or cheap is happening anywhere in the city. I'm learning that the simplicities of life are often more peaceful and enjoyable than the extravagances. It also causes you to be more aware and appreciative when life sends you a gentle blessing, like a free meal or Jazz Fest ticket.
"It is a government funded program that serves as an outlet for Americans to serve their country." How I would ultimately like AmeriCorps to be viewed. A branch of service, as respected and recognized as the branches of the military.
AmeriCorps is filled with individuals who are willing to dedicate time out of their lives to give back to the people of their country. They are bypassing the job market and a chance to move up in the corporate world where finances tend to be a little more comfortable, and instead lend a hand to their fellow citizens where the budget can be a little more meager.
Like the military, it is also filled with individuals who are searching for the next step in life. They are individuals who come straight from high school or college, some who need a break from school, and others who don't like the career path they have chosen. All want to serve their country, yet don't want to carry a gun.
AmeriCorps is evidence to what can happen when a group of individuals comes together to give back to their country. It shows how much can get done when people are dedicated to a cause. It proves how contagious service can be and how one small task spreads hope and brings completely different people together. After my year of service, my beliefs that helping your fellow citizen out, whether that mean your neighbor or someone struggling hundreds of miles away, is what brings a country together. Without the feeling of community, that tends to follow service, people would start to forget what makes our home great.
Recently, the GIVE act proposed was passed by the house, senate, and will be signed by Obama. This act is a huge step forward for the AmeriCorps program. It over triples the number of positions in the corps taking it from 75,000 to 250,000. It also updates the education award, which hasn't been altered since its start 15 years ago; $4,700 (before tax) may have gone somewhere over 15 years ago, but today it hardly makes a dent. Needless to say, I am utterly thrilled about this move. Although, since my eligibility for AmeriCorps is almost completely served I will not be able to directly reap the benefits, it will help those in the future who wish to take advantage of this opportunity.
Another positive that is coming from this proposal is some exposure. Something that ceases to amaze me is how many times, in the last year, I've given the AmeriCorps spiel. Well over 50% of people I meet have never heard of AmeriCorps, and if they have, than they still have no idea what it is. I, myself, had not heard of it as of 2 years ago. I happened to stumble across it while researching for a project at my practicum.
Thank you politicians and president Obama for recognizing the individuals that are dedicating a part of their lives to serve this country. Thank you also, for bringing awareness to the importance of AmeriCorps and what it can do for our country and its youth.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
99 Great Years
Think about your life. Go back 15 years. 25 years. 65 years if you can. Now imagine if you could go back 95 years and reflect on how things were. To be able to compare, first hand, how things were then to how they are now and see the changes that have occured.
Right now, as I write this blog, much of my family on my dad's side is gathering in Ponca, NE to celebrate Wesley Schram's 99th birthday. My grandpa. I literally can not get over how amazing that is. Thinking over my 23 years of life on this earth, I can not imagine the sensational feeling of doing the same over nearly a century.
Talking about my grandpa impresses me every time. At the age of 99, he still lives in his own home with his wife of 70 years. (Another impressive number!) Every summer he plants a very sizable garden and tends to it with care. He is the father of 11, grandfather of 30, and great-grandfather of 30+. He is also on to of his game. Recently, when I was back visiting, he turned to me and asked when I was moving to New Orleans. This took be back because not only am I 1 in a family of nearly 100, but I've also been moving around so much in the last year that most the people I know gave up keeping track.
One of my favorite memories with my grandpa was Memorial Day close to three years ago. I spent the day driving around with my grandpa, grandma, uncle, and two cousins paying respects to our ancestors. In between cemeteries, we drove by all the places my grandparents had lived while married, saw where the one room school house my grandpa had gone to school used to be located, and shown where my dad was born. We also heard stories about my great-great-great uncle who disappeared in California during the gold rush, how my grandparents met, stories of my grandpa's mischievous side as a kid, etc. It was fun learning about our family's history and getting a glimpse into my grandpa's 99 years.
I feel lucky to have the family I have and even more lucky to still have them in my life.
So here's to family, good genes, and the spirit of life my grandpa has always possessed. Happy Birthday!
Right now, as I write this blog, much of my family on my dad's side is gathering in Ponca, NE to celebrate Wesley Schram's 99th birthday. My grandpa. I literally can not get over how amazing that is. Thinking over my 23 years of life on this earth, I can not imagine the sensational feeling of doing the same over nearly a century.
Talking about my grandpa impresses me every time. At the age of 99, he still lives in his own home with his wife of 70 years. (Another impressive number!) Every summer he plants a very sizable garden and tends to it with care. He is the father of 11, grandfather of 30, and great-grandfather of 30+. He is also on to of his game. Recently, when I was back visiting, he turned to me and asked when I was moving to New Orleans. This took be back because not only am I 1 in a family of nearly 100, but I've also been moving around so much in the last year that most the people I know gave up keeping track.
One of my favorite memories with my grandpa was Memorial Day close to three years ago. I spent the day driving around with my grandpa, grandma, uncle, and two cousins paying respects to our ancestors. In between cemeteries, we drove by all the places my grandparents had lived while married, saw where the one room school house my grandpa had gone to school used to be located, and shown where my dad was born. We also heard stories about my great-great-great uncle who disappeared in California during the gold rush, how my grandparents met, stories of my grandpa's mischievous side as a kid, etc. It was fun learning about our family's history and getting a glimpse into my grandpa's 99 years.
I feel lucky to have the family I have and even more lucky to still have them in my life.
So here's to family, good genes, and the spirit of life my grandpa has always possessed. Happy Birthday!
Friday, February 20, 2009
my favorite shirt
So I have this shirt. It is my favorite shirt. Although it is my favorite shirt, I am very selective on when I wear it. There are only certain days and moments that are deserving of this shirt to come out of my closet (or bin of clothes since I currently don't have a closet). But before I go into these details, I must tell the story of when this shirt came into my life.
Like I stated in an earlier blog, last year I was in a program called AmeriCorps NCCC. This program sent me different places to do service work. From the very end of April through the middle of June my team was in New Orleans to work with Rebuilding Together. The moment I drove our navy blue 12 passenger government van, TJ, into the city, I fell in love. You could feel the anxiety building as we drove through the neighborhood, searching for the place we would call home for the next 7 weeks. The moment my team of nine and I laid eyes on our adorable double shot gun house, painted with inviting colors, we all let out yelps of excitement. (To help you understand, many of our NCCC co-members we pulling up to volunteer camps that housed hundreds of people a month.) Immediately, we all jumped out of the van and ran inside. After searching through the house we immediately started jumping up and down, squeeling, while embracing each other. We felt like the luckiest people ever.
At that time, I was completely in love with life. I was living in an awesome house, near the river, where a movie was being filmed 2 blocks away and the French Quarter was easily accessible by jumping on the ferry 8 blocks from us. I was in a city I had never been. A city whose spirit you can feel walking down the streets, as the music from within the buildings flows out the open doors. I was working for an organization that stood for something and really cared about the people they work for and the people who work for them. I got to ride a ferry to work every morning and let the cool morning breeze on the Mississippi River gently wake me up. Life. Was. Great.
After being there for about a week, a couple of girls on my team and I were walking around the French Quarter and decided to check out a clothing store. We all walked around spending our time looking at all the clothes we would love to buy, knowing the small stipend we received for being in service would not allow, and rummaging the sales rack hoping to find an affordable treasure. I was sorting through a display of simple tees, reading all of their witty sayings, when I spotted it. Right there, buried beneath a pile of unfolded shirts, was my diamond. I reached down and picked up the soft cotton shirt as a shocked smile began to creep across my face, and knew that I had to have it. It could not have been more perfect, because there, written across the front of the shirt in big bold letters were the words I <3 LIFE. Perfect.
So, in honor of my shirt and Valentine's Day I am going to start a list of the things that I have found my self loving about life lately. I plan to keep this an ongoing list. One I can add to as time goes on and I am reminded of new things. I encourage you to make your own list.
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I LOVE....
...to be continued.
Like I stated in an earlier blog, last year I was in a program called AmeriCorps NCCC. This program sent me different places to do service work. From the very end of April through the middle of June my team was in New Orleans to work with Rebuilding Together. The moment I drove our navy blue 12 passenger government van, TJ, into the city, I fell in love. You could feel the anxiety building as we drove through the neighborhood, searching for the place we would call home for the next 7 weeks. The moment my team of nine and I laid eyes on our adorable double shot gun house, painted with inviting colors, we all let out yelps of excitement. (To help you understand, many of our NCCC co-members we pulling up to volunteer camps that housed hundreds of people a month.) Immediately, we all jumped out of the van and ran inside. After searching through the house we immediately started jumping up and down, squeeling, while embracing each other. We felt like the luckiest people ever.
At that time, I was completely in love with life. I was living in an awesome house, near the river, where a movie was being filmed 2 blocks away and the French Quarter was easily accessible by jumping on the ferry 8 blocks from us. I was in a city I had never been. A city whose spirit you can feel walking down the streets, as the music from within the buildings flows out the open doors. I was working for an organization that stood for something and really cared about the people they work for and the people who work for them. I got to ride a ferry to work every morning and let the cool morning breeze on the Mississippi River gently wake me up. Life. Was. Great.
After being there for about a week, a couple of girls on my team and I were walking around the French Quarter and decided to check out a clothing store. We all walked around spending our time looking at all the clothes we would love to buy, knowing the small stipend we received for being in service would not allow, and rummaging the sales rack hoping to find an affordable treasure. I was sorting through a display of simple tees, reading all of their witty sayings, when I spotted it. Right there, buried beneath a pile of unfolded shirts, was my diamond. I reached down and picked up the soft cotton shirt as a shocked smile began to creep across my face, and knew that I had to have it. It could not have been more perfect, because there, written across the front of the shirt in big bold letters were the words I <3 LIFE. Perfect.
So, in honor of my shirt and Valentine's Day I am going to start a list of the things that I have found my self loving about life lately. I plan to keep this an ongoing list. One I can add to as time goes on and I am reminded of new things. I encourage you to make your own list.
-----------------------------
I LOVE....
- I love riding my bike home from work. Although the work day often leaves me tired, the ride home is the perfect wind down. Something about the breeze in my face as I whip through the streets of my neighborhood that's relaxing. It allows me to not just see my community but to be in it and say hi to them and exchange smiles.
- I love free things. The service community has been good to me.
- I got lunch free for a week from the volunteers I worked with
- one week, out of seven nights I got 5 free dinners
- Kate and I found a bunch of stuff for our house free on the streets. the list includes a stand for our tv and dvd player, a toaster oven, dishes, two lamps and a bench
- there's a place that serves free red beans and rice every Monday while listening to music and another that serves free indian food every sunday night
- a local bar has a special where you can get a hair cut and shot for $10. Kate took advantage of that last week
- I love that I am on the first day of a six day weekend. Happy Mardi Gras everyone!
- I love New Orleans. I could go on an on about this one. But I'm sure it will come out in one of my blogs eventually. The history, the culture, the environment just rocks.
- I love my boss. She truly cares about the quality of work she puts out there and about her staff. I was at her house twice last week. Once for a dinner with her family and once for bbq she had for volunteers we had.
- I love working for Rebuilding Together. I love everything they stand for and how they are continuously striving to better an already great organization
- I love my house. I live in the heart of New Orleans in a traditional house. It's so cute. I love it. To see a picture on google maps, click here. I'm on the left.
- I love my roommate. We know how each other works and so far so good. I've been really really lucky as far as roommates go in my life. There are so many horror stories out there of roommates gone bad.
- I love meeting people who have interesting stories and create amazing networking connections. This is why working with volunteers can be awesome.
- I love that I caught a shoe from the Muse's parade. Amazing. (I will write more on Mardi Gras when the weekend of mania is over)
- I love washing my hands at the end of the day. For some reason, watching the cloud of dirt and paint fall off into the stream of water and down the drain is rewarding. I almost judge my days work on how dirty my hands are. The more dirt, the more I accomplished.
- I love that I have ideas for my future. Do I know what I want to do? Absolutely not. But having a ideas is new for me. And kind of comforting.
- I love that I have can build a closet for myself. I have enough construction knowledge to make things and be comfortable doing it by myself. It's empowering.
...to be continued.
Friday, January 30, 2009
..so I applied for food stamps...
Lucky for me, I found the government program that is willing to include food stamp eligibility along with its long list of benefits and lovely living stipend. All this in exchange for one year of my life dedicated to service. That is why I am currently sitting in the New Orleans Family Services office, where I've been waiting for about 2 1/2 hours. They did announce my number once, only to give me even more paper work that needed to be completed. As if the 10 page document Kate and I filled out the night before wasn't enough. I must admit. We both have college degrees and still had to ask each other questions, along with call someone who had filled it out before, to get some clarification.
While I sit here, I'm trying to keep my stomach silent as it aches to be fed. I didn't have a chance to eat breakfast before I jumped on my bike and rode across town early this morning. Our goal was to try and make it to the office and secure a spot at the front of the line before the office opened at 7:00. I threw a couple of things in my bag, thinking I could just eat them as I waited. I was wrong. As soon as I sat down I noticed the NO FOOD OR DRINK posters plastered every 3 feet on the walls. They were even displayed on the section of the room that made a valiant attempt at being a two-way mirror. Its purpose was to try and hide the security put there to watch over us. I guess you never know what might happen when you put a group of hungry people in one room.
The room is painted a horrendous pink color, has no windows, the only source of light is coming from the fluorescent fixtures overhead. I feel like I'm trapped in a giant pepto bismal bottle. Although this bottle isn't doing anything to squelch the pains in my stomach. I think they're actually adding to the quesy feeling that stems from sitting in this place.
On top of no breakfast, I am not a morning person. I'm still readjusting to the morning work life I restarted 2 weeks ago. Today I had to get up yet an extra hour earlier to get to the office so I we wouldn't have to spend half our day here. As I alternate trying to read a book and scanning the room observing and watching the all the cute little kids clung to their mothers' side blink their sleepy eyes and bear a huge sleepy yawn, my eyes are starting to get heavy.
But don't fear, they help make sure you don't fall asleep and miss your name being called. Every couple of minutes, right when your eyes might think about closing, a head splitting announcement "Q88 & Q89 TO WINDOWS 2 & 3 PLEASE!" comes blasting over the intercom just in time to wake you and every sleeping child up. Finally, I'm up.
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I must admit. After I completed the process of getting my food stamps, I thought, "that wasn't that bad." All I had to do was fill out an application, ask for the time off, show up, wait a while, show my forms, and they'll send them in a couple of weeks. Some parts were a little difficult, some were annoying, and some were frustrating. But overall, not the worst.
But when I think about it some more, I realize, this process is truly a real life version of Darwin's survival of the fittest. I made it through the process successfully. But I had everything going for me, and there were still times when I was wishing I would have just slept in.
For example:
I did not have ANY of these walls to fight through when jumping through the food stamp hoop. Some people want to know why we let so many take advantage of the system?
I think the better question is.... What happens to all those that aren't able to take advantage of the system?
While I sit here, I'm trying to keep my stomach silent as it aches to be fed. I didn't have a chance to eat breakfast before I jumped on my bike and rode across town early this morning. Our goal was to try and make it to the office and secure a spot at the front of the line before the office opened at 7:00. I threw a couple of things in my bag, thinking I could just eat them as I waited. I was wrong. As soon as I sat down I noticed the NO FOOD OR DRINK posters plastered every 3 feet on the walls. They were even displayed on the section of the room that made a valiant attempt at being a two-way mirror. Its purpose was to try and hide the security put there to watch over us. I guess you never know what might happen when you put a group of hungry people in one room.
The room is painted a horrendous pink color, has no windows, the only source of light is coming from the fluorescent fixtures overhead. I feel like I'm trapped in a giant pepto bismal bottle. Although this bottle isn't doing anything to squelch the pains in my stomach. I think they're actually adding to the quesy feeling that stems from sitting in this place.
On top of no breakfast, I am not a morning person. I'm still readjusting to the morning work life I restarted 2 weeks ago. Today I had to get up yet an extra hour earlier to get to the office so I we wouldn't have to spend half our day here. As I alternate trying to read a book and scanning the room observing and watching the all the cute little kids clung to their mothers' side blink their sleepy eyes and bear a huge sleepy yawn, my eyes are starting to get heavy.
But don't fear, they help make sure you don't fall asleep and miss your name being called. Every couple of minutes, right when your eyes might think about closing, a head splitting announcement "Q88 & Q89 TO WINDOWS 2 & 3 PLEASE!" comes blasting over the intercom just in time to wake you and every sleeping child up. Finally, I'm up.
--------------------------------
I must admit. After I completed the process of getting my food stamps, I thought, "that wasn't that bad." All I had to do was fill out an application, ask for the time off, show up, wait a while, show my forms, and they'll send them in a couple of weeks. Some parts were a little difficult, some were annoying, and some were frustrating. But overall, not the worst.
But when I think about it some more, I realize, this process is truly a real life version of Darwin's survival of the fittest. I made it through the process successfully. But I had everything going for me, and there were still times when I was wishing I would have just slept in.
For example:
- I don't have kids. Imagine trying to get your kid(s) up that early in the morning, tote them across the city, and waiting in a muggy waiting room for hours trying to keep them busy.
- I'm literate and educated. Filling out those forms was much more difficult than your abc's. There was definitly some terminology on there that made me think twice. And I have a college education.
- I had a letter from AmeriCorps (the government program I work through) and Rebuilding Together (the non-profit I work for) verifying my income and that I was eligible for the program. Nobody else has this letter. Instead, they are required to bring in about 100 different papers and documents to prove their income and all the payments that they have to make.
- If I didn't get food stamps, I have a good support system that would definitely help me out if I'm going hungry. Even WELL before that point. In order to be independent, they are very helpful, however, I have resources I can turn to in times of trouble. People who live in poverty generally do not have this luxury. They are all they have.
- I have a flexible boss who let me take the time out that morning to go apply. In fact, the recommended that I go on that day. Those extra 3-4 hours it takes, is 3-4 hours of pay that they don't recieve that week. Also, sometimes their higher-ups are not NEAR as understanding as mine.
- Finally, I am white. I don't have a stigma attached to the color of my skin. Some may agree or disagree with this one. But I do know a couple of people who walked into that same office that had a lot more difficulties than I did. Coincidence? You decide.
I did not have ANY of these walls to fight through when jumping through the food stamp hoop. Some people want to know why we let so many take advantage of the system?
I think the better question is.... What happens to all those that aren't able to take advantage of the system?
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