I stopped, right in the middle of loading a boat, and watched as a wall of rain came towards us from down the road. That painful anticipation of getting wet kept me immobile until the first drops hit my head. Luckily, we had already put our yellow rain gear on as a preventative measure. I've always loved our "banana" suits, as we fondly refer to them on course, but after the next week, I wasn't quite so lovey towards them.
Now that the inevitable rain had come, we continued loading the remaining boats, with Hunter and I getting ours set last. All six boats were packed to the gills with our gear as we began our journey through Hell's Bay canoe trail, aptly name as the mosquitoes soon made it hell for those of us who had to pause to wait for boats ahead or behind us.
We slowly made it through the twists and turns of the canoe trail, following the white PVC poles that blessedly marked our way safely through. Navigation in the Glades definitely isn't my best skill, so having these wonderful beacons made my life much easier and enjoyable.
Our progress was slow, but I was impressed with the fact that the kids were getting anywhere at all what with how narrow the trail was. They were a determined little bunch.
We stopped for lunch and had to get creative when we realized that some of our food hadn't gotten packed out, and we were short a lunch. Cheese and salsa burritos! Woot woot! While everyone else thought this was extremely strange, I found it to be quite normal. Guess that's what happens when all your dad eats growing up is cheese sandwiches and all you eat for lunch as a kid is peanut butter tortillas.
By 4:00pm, we were looking for a place to board up in Hell's Bay because we wanted the kids to have the opportunity to board up for the first time while it was still light out. We managed to get the anchors set and the boats lashed together before Tony decided that he wasn't about to follow any directions whatsoever. We eventually got him into my boat, and he and I paddled away from the group while they continued the board up process with five boats, causing Liz to have to adjust her plan for the missing boat.
Tony and I paddled around the corner from the group, and he snuggled down into the bow compartment of the boat with his rain gear and PFD on and an e-mat as a blanket. He soon became impatient though when it started to sprinkle out and get dark. It was obvious his survival need was going to be difficult to meet out here. I mean, this is a kid from Miami plopped out into the middle of the freakin' Everglades! Of course he's going to be scared out of his mind.
Tony kept asking to go back to the other boats, but I patiently told him that we couldn't because he would not follow expectations.
"Fine, then I'll swim back," Tony threatened, as he stood up in the boat and put his foot on the gunwales.
"Tony, stay in the boat," I firmly told him, not about to jump in or go after a crazy kid swimming through creepy ass dark water at night.
"No! I'm not staying here! I want to go back to the group! I'll climb in the trees then," he shouted as he shifted his weight to the other side of the boat and started to grab onto the mangroves that our boat was loosely tied to.
"Tony, there's no ground there to step on. You'll fall in the water as soon as you start to climb through those, and the mosquitoes will attack you," I calmly told him. But inside, I feared the kid would actually do it.
I could tell he was frustrated, and he once again threatened to jump out of the boat and swim back to the board up. I eventually got him to sit back down and told him we would go back soon to get him warm clothes and out of the rain. We started paddling back, and as soon as we were within arm's length of the board up, Tony was out of my boat despite my instructions to stay put.
In our absence, the group has constructed a five boat board up, which basically amounted to the five boats tightly lashed together, all the five-gallon water jugs moved to the middle boat, and boards loosely laid across the boats. It's definitely not as sturdy or preferable to cats, but we had to make do that night. The group had also managed to get a tarp up over the raft, and while it wasn't the best set up tarp, it did manage to keep us somewhat dry (although, I still did not, and would not, take my rain gear off for quite a few days yet).
The kids moved slowly through the evening, or rather, the rice cooked slowly which slowed everything else down. It's very different at night on the boards because there's not as much for the kids to do like when you're camping on the river. There's no fire to build, there's no hundred hole/buckets to set up; so the majority of kids are sitting and talking while dinner is cooking and water jugs are being filled up. Luckily, for the most part on this course, our kids were pretty good during this time on our course (except for day 7, which I'll get to later).
Tony had agreed to not talk to the other kids, which was extremely difficult for him, but I didn't feel like there was any other option because I knew we would never get him to sit on the loose boat tied to the raft that wasn't covered by the tarp. He was too scared for that. For the most part, I was able to keep him separated from the group, but as the night wore on, his agreement to follow separation expectations wore thin and he was soon moving about and talking with them.
For some reason that night, probably because it was their first night on the boats and we wanted them to be comfortable and feel safe, we had the kids get out their sleeping bags and healy hammocks. Within 15 minutes of setting up their healies and getting their sleeping bags out, the kids sleeping bags were all soaked. Then the mayhem began.
I don't remember all the ridiculous things the kids were screaming that night, but I do remember that it was a very long night.
"F### THIS SHIT!!!"
"F### OUTWARD BOUND!"
And the obscenities just kept coming all night long from all but two of the kids. I literally thought Tony was possessed and had gone crazy that night. At one point, he shot up and tore out of his healy, not even bothering to consider using the zipper that was supposed to be used to get in and out. I told him he'd have to wait until the next night for me to attempt fixing it.
Our instructional team took shifts sleeping, as the kids refused to be quiet and sleep. Two of the girls, Aleni and Lauren, refused to get in their wet sleeping bags or even cover up with them, which left them sitting uncomfortably in their healies, cold and miserable.
I think it was close to 4:30am when my turn to sleep came around. I laid face first in my rain gear on a soaking wet emat on an outside board and passed out until 7:00am, when Liz, God bless her soul, who had only slept for about a half hour, woke us all up.
It was by far one of the more miserable nights I've had on course. Not the latest I've gone to bed, but it was definitely the weirdest circumstances under which I did.
Liz, Mark, and I all woke up with weird small, painful white bumps all over our hands and feet. None of us had any clue what they were or what they were from, but they definitely made themselves known. A few of the kids had weird rashes too, namely Brandon, who had just recently gotten over a case of impetigo (which for those of you who don't know, is a very contagious skin infection). Just the thing we needed for our kids to catch in a wet, enclosed space like we were.
The rain slowed to a very light mist that morning as we took the tarp down and moved through our morning routine. By the time we started paddling, though, we were back in the rain. It was like a cruel joke the way it would start and stop. Someone up there was having fun with us, or as Yaniya liked to say, it was karma coming back to get us for something we had done, although, I couldn't imagine the atrocities we must have committed to deserve the horrible weather we had endured so far.
We continued to follow the beautiful white PVC pipes out of Hell's Bay and into Pearl Bay, where our first glorious chickee awaited us. A chickee is a covered wooden platform/shelter of sorts that are placed throughout the Everglades. Sometimes they are single chickees, with just one platform, and sometimes they are double chickees, with two platforms. But the most wonderful thing about chickees is that attached to them are porta potties, which means no having to poop in a bag in a bucket. Unfortunately for me, I couldn't poop for probably the first five days of course, which was extremely strange for me.
My team and I initially made the plan to shuttle students over one by one to use the porta potty on the chickee because Tony, who was separated, we knew would be impossible to control once we got on there and we figured the other kids would probably refuse to leave the chickee's shelter if we let them on it out of the rain. After a moments thought, though, and with Tony separated with Eric away from the group, we decided it would be safe to lash up next to the chickee and let the kids use the bathroom while they ate lunch in the boats. We got through lunch and the bathroom, with the kids complaining the entire time about having to sit out in the rain, but otherwise, being mostly compliant, before making the call (after talking to Phil) to stay on the chickee that night (despite having paddled hardly any miles that day).
It was probably the best call we could've made given the situation. As soon as the kids all got on the chickee, the skies let loose, and it was barely possible to see across the bay. I was so glad we had made the decision we did, and we could tell the kids were, too.
That afternoon, we got our kiddos in dry clothes, attended to their medical needs, and had them work on their action steps. Of course, before doing all of that, we made the kids have a little fun with us in the form of the banana dance and Bob, the weasel.
The banana dance was fondly introduced to me back on my second course by Jason Schmidt when our crew had to endure several cold, rainy days. To keep us warm and keep our spirits up, Jason taught us the banana dance (which, of course you have to be wearing your banana suit to do) which goes like this:
1st verse
Plant bananas, plant plant bananas (x2...w/accompanying planting motions)
2nd verse
Grow bananas, grow grow bananas (x2...w/accompanying growing motions)
3rd verse
Pick bananas, pick pick bananas (x2...w/accompanying picking motions)
4th verse
Peel bananas, peel peel bananas (x2...w/accompanying peeling motions)
5th verse
Eat bananas, eat eat bananas (x2...w/accompanying eating motions)
6th verse
Poop bananas, poop poop bananas (x2...w/accompanying pooping motions)
7th and Final verse
Go bananas! Go, Go Bananas! (x2...w/accompanying jumping around and going crazy motions)
I love this dance. It makes my heart happy.
The other game we played was called Bob, the Weasel. The kids were so adament about not wanting to play and that it was stupid, but by the end, we had all of those little wanna-bes bobbing up and down to the tune of "Bob, the weasel. Bob, Bob, the weasel," as we all stood in a close shoulder to shoulder circle and passed an object around our backs while the person in the middle tried to guess who had "the weasel." It was so funny. The kids started adding in their own beats to the song, and my heart swelled with happiness.
The rest of the night went relatively smooth. We had a delicious dinner that night cooked by yours truly of mashed potatoes, canned chicken, and gravy. Must say, I can cook a mean course meal. Ha! Who woulda thunk it?
That night, we separated on the two chickees into girls and guys. At one point during our instructor evening meeting, Aleni started making weird moaning noises and talking in her sleep. Liz and I thought something was wrong and tried to wake her up to no avail, which made me think she might be dead or going hypothermic but in the end, we concluded the Benadryl we had given her earlier must have really just knocked her out.
It felt so amazing to take off my rain gear that night. I, too, was starting to get a weird red rash on my knees from being enclosed in a wet space for so long. It was so gross.
The familiar patter of the rain continued through the night on the roof of the chickee, and the gentle mist and occasional gust of rain kept us cool throughout the night. But we were safe, which was all that mattered.
Tonight, I'm writing this from the comforts of the upstairs of the Five Rivers base in Fairhope, Alabama. I drove here yesterday after a wonderful morning run on the beach and packing my car. It was an uneventful trip, which is good. As soon as I pulled up, the two Impact courses that had just gotten out of the field were starting their graduations. On the girl team was three of my favorite girls: Kristin, Alexis, and Alisa while the boy team consisted of Nick, Phil (from MN), and Adam. I got in my hugs from my base family (AJ, Katie, Laurel, Wade, Britt, and Amy), and was soon blasted with demands that I spend the day here today, which was contrary to my original plan to leave today to go to Dallas. In retrospect, I'm glad I stayed today.
I spent the morning fixing tents with Wade and Meryl, then spent the afternoon going to WalMart for pepper spray (which they didn't have), writing a letter of recommendation for Alex, and going for a wonderful run along the bay and stopping to watch the sunset. It was a wonderful day spent with lots of people that I love, my family away from home essentially. It will be extremely hard to leave them all tomorrow.
But tomorrow I head to Allen, Texas, to see my dear friend Melissa, who I don't think I've seen in just over two years. I'm excited to see her, but not so much about the long drive that awaits me. Plus, Nick said it's pretty boring (he just made the drive in September to go see his dad in Dallas).
However, it does mean that my journey has really started, and I will be off into uncharted waters! Scary! But like my mom told me, it's kind of like a rite of passage. It will be good for me. A bit of spontaneity and adventure and me time. An extended, moving solo if you will.
Well, this entry has turned into quite the epic one. Sorry to bore you all who are still reading! I should start to interject my posts with random, outrageous, totally unbelievable things just to keep everyone's interest. Lol. Wait for the next one!
A thought to remember as I begin my drive tomorrow: So often, people are so focused on getting from Point A to Point B that they forget there is a whole line, a whole space in between them that needs to be explored. Don't forget about that space. Don't forget that, while the beginning and the ending point of a journey are important, so are the spaces in between. It's not all about the destination but what you do to get there, too, that matters.
Sending out lots of good juju and love! <3
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Just Posting
"So, what do you like to do for fun?"
The standard answers are said:
"Football."
"Volleyball."
"Posting."
"Posting? Like on Facebook?"
"Nah, dawg."
"Well, then what is it?"
"You know, posting. Like, chillin'."
"Tip," piped in one of the Trifecta, the name we lovingly gave to our three boys that went to the same middle school and were friends prior to coming on course.
And thus began my latest course down in the Everglades, KLF196. It's truly amazing what all can happen in 30 days. Sometimes it doesn't seem like anything happens, but somewhere, deep inside, a seed is planted. At least, that's what I tell myself. During brief on this course, my lead, Liz, told us:
"It's like throwing a seed at a rock, and it just bounces off that rock. But it lands somewhere near that rock, and in 15 years, grows into a beautiful tree. And they have no clue where that tree came from but are like, 'Wow, that's a really awesome tree. That's a great idea. I'm going to do that."
And it's so true. Our kids as young 13, 14, 15, and 16 year olds are like rocks right now and want to resist so hard to learning and changing. But like Liz said, that seed eventually starts to grow, and while we might not be there to see the fruits of our labor, we have to have faith that someday our work and our love will be remembered and put to use.
I'm not trying to brag or sound conceited, but I honestly believe that the instructors that work here in the Southeast with me have one of the hardest jobs in the world. Not only do we take kids into the wilderness (where they would literally die without us) and teach them wilderness skills like paddling, tying knots, starting a fire, pooping in a bucket, but we also have to be teachers, doctors, judges, parents, counselors, babysitters, janitors, chefs, biologist, tour guide, meteorologist, and so much more. And on top of all this, we are working with a population of students that have a wide variety of issues ranging from anger problems to substance abuse issues to poor performance in school and more. Put 6 to 11 kids together who all have these issues, and you've got quite the combination. In regular schools, teachers and administrators are always looking out to prevent behaviors from happening. But here at OB in the Southeast, we're there to manage the behaviors when they happen. Crazy, right? But how are kids ever going to learn if they don't experience the behavior and then figure out how to work through it as it's happening?
One of the girls on this course I just did got suspended one of the last days of follow-up for cursing out an assistant principal. But you know what the cool thing is? Before she cussed him out, she thought about not doing it. Of course, the dumb ass had to open his mouth and say one more thing that blew that thought right out of her mind, but the fact that she stopped and actually thought about not doing it is progress. Made me so proud.
After we got the kids and ran through the regular to do (like duffel shuffle, lunch, and swim check), we drove to the Long Pine campground in the Everglades National Park. It still boggles my mind sometimes when I think about the fact that I was leading a wilderness expedition in the EVERGLADES. When most people think of the Everglades, they think alligators and crocs everywhere and this tropical, rainforesty type place. In reality, the Everglades is technically a desert. Weird, right? Well, it is. And basically all it is is mangroves with channels through it that you can paddle or boat through. We did see a few alligators on this trip, two that decided we were quite interesting and swam around our board up all night. But they're not everywhere like people think they are. But what is everywhere is the damn mosquitoes. Seriously, could someone please tell me what the purpose of mosquitoes are other than to annoy and bite the crap out of you?
At Long Pine that night, the mosquitoes were thick and relentless. They sought any possible means to bite you, and they were mightily successful with our kiddos. My poor co's weren't in much better shape. Lucky for me, I had my awesome Wintergreen pants from up in Ely, Minnesota, and my awesome bug shirt (I would highly recommend both to any instructor working in a mosquito ridden area). We got the kids in their healy hammocks that night, only to find that some were already ripped with holes which the mosquitoes quickly found. Healy hammocks are kind of like mesh netting coffins that are hung between two lines of p-cord. They're not actually "hammocks" that hang off the ground; that's a bit of a misnomer. It takes a bit of practice to get one set up correctly so that the mesh doesn't touch you while you're sleeping; otherwise, the mosquitoes can just bit you right through there. It was definitely a blessing to jump in there each night. A little safe haven from the bug hell that waited just outside.
The next day, we got up and ran through our morning routine with the kids, swatting mosquitoes away in the process. Our kids weren't the most receptive to what we had to say or teach them, but we plugged away and held to our structure. Structure is what these kids need more than anything, and as much as they would never tell you, a lot of them crave it. So many of these kids come from homes with no structure or consistency, and they come to us and it's a relief for them to know that when they do A, B will happen. They begin to trust you when that happens, too.
That afternoon, with clouds covering the sun (and continuing to cover the sun continuously for the next 6 days), we drove to the Long Pine pond to do canoe training. Before we even hit the water, two of our students got into a verbal altercation which quickly escalated into a physical one. Liz and I went into action separating the students and escorting them away from each other; however, the kids decided not to keep their mouths shut and kept yelling racial slurs at each other and before Liz and I knew it, one student had charged the other student. Liz tried to hang on to him for dear life, but this kid, who we likened to a man-boy-bear-pig, threw her off his back like nothing. At this point, while Liz and I are working on restraining this student, one of our other students that's still with the group starts running over saying, "He can't do that to a girl!" Our co-instructor, Mark, told Kyle to come back and that we "could handle ourselves." Girl power! =)
We were all a bit shook up after the experience. It's definitely a scary thing when kids start fighting, and you have to get in there to stop them. Of course, restraining a student is always a last resort. We are taught to try to use verbal deescalation techniques first before putting hands on a student, but if students become dangerous to themselves or others, then we have to step in. It's total adrenaline when you get in there, and you are definitely aware that you could get hit in the process. I've managed to have a few glancing blows off the back of my head and back during one altercation between students in addition to getting thrown to the ground. But the reason we do it is because we don't want them to hurt themselves or others or get an assault charge.
Both our kids eventually came back to the group in a better space, and we headed out onto the water to practice paddling and boarding up. The sprinkles started then and little did we know would continue unabated for the next six days. Our kids loved paddling, and most of them got the hang of it relatively quickly. The boarding up process that day was a bit sloppy, but we managed to get through it and get back to land at a decent time.
That night, we headed back to camp and once again withstood bug hell. Never a fun experience. We got the kids to bed early and told them to plan on an early morning, as people have found the earlier you get them up and to the put in at Hell's Bay canoe trail, the less likely they are to try and run away because they're still so tired and out of it. My co-instructors and I also had a long talk that night about the possibility of removing one of our students who had proved to be a handful from the minute course started the day before. He was continually being separated for not following expectations, and despite committing over and over again to not repeating the same behavior, he would. It was difficult because the kid had little to no investment in course. The only reason he agreed to come was because if he completed the course, he would get to leave the shelter he had been living at and go home. Other than that, he was not there to learn or work on anything, and he let us know on a regular basis. His behavior was negatively influencing the rest of the group, but we struggled to decide if it was fair to give up on him so soon in addition to fearing that sending him home on day three of course would set a bad example for the rest of the students who were still asking to go home. In the end, he stayed (well, that is, until he had to be removed later in course for medical reasons). He's definitely a kid I won't forget, and I'll probably think back to the time he was with us a lot and try to figure out how we could've handled him and situation differently to help him and the rest of the group be more successful.
I was really excited for this course. Not only because I had a great team and because it was my first course in the Everglades, but because I had been around so many course starts and course ends recently, I just wanted to get back out in the field and have my own kids and prove to people that I can be a great instructor. On my last course this summer, I really f****ed up. I was extremely passive in communicating how I felt about course with my co-instructors, and as a result, my relationship with them deteriorated and was never resurrected because I didn't have the balls to say something. It really sucked, especially because apart from that, we had a really amazing group of students. I look back on that course now and wish so hard that I could change what I did. But, you can't change the past. I know that, but I wish I could. And because of my shitty communication on that course, I dug myself a pretty deep hole with my supervisors and the staffing manager. Now, there's a red flag on me that says, "Stephanie can't communicate or manage her co-instructors, which is a vital skill of a lead instructor." It really sucks.
When I was talking with the staffing manager on the phone about it, she told me about how that really worried her about me being promoted to a lead instructor. She used the metaphor of the star player of a team and the team captain, saying that an assist is like the star player (stellar, solid skills; always in the game; scoring the goals; etc.) whereas the lead instructor is like the captain (managing people; having a vision; etc.). Little does Katie know, I was never the star player. I was always the captain. Right now, I don't really feel like either.
I walked away from this last course with a confidence I hadn't felt before and a feeling of contentment, success, and fulfillment. I knew/know there were/are still things for me to work on, but I really got knocked down several pegs after hearing the feedback on my evals and talking to Katie. Feedback is one thing that I love/hate about this job. It's so great to hear the positive feedback and find out what you're doing well, and it's also great getting constructive feedback to hear what you can work on. However, I have this horrible tendency to uber focus on the constructive feedback to the point where it completely blocks out the positive. I've had this problem since my first course, and it can really take a toll on one's confidence. It doesn't help that when I get a lot of this feedback, I'm already going into transition stress mode and all the emotions and feelings from course that I've put off are starting to crash down on me. I need to work on accepting the feedback, saying thank you, taking what applies, and letting the rest go.
Well, this last bit has been a bit more of a diary entry than an update on my life and travels. Whoops. Hopefully I didn't bore you too much! And sorry about the cursing. There probably will be more of that. Had a productive day today here at the beach house. Made a birthday card, washed my car, cleaned the downstairs apartment, read on the beach, took a nap, went for a run on the beach. It was a good day. Quiet evening ahead with more productiveness tomorrow.
"There is more in you than you know!" Gotta keep telling myself that everyday! Lots of love to all! =)
The standard answers are said:
"Football."
"Volleyball."
"Posting."
"Posting? Like on Facebook?"
"Nah, dawg."
"Well, then what is it?"
"You know, posting. Like, chillin'."
"Tip," piped in one of the Trifecta, the name we lovingly gave to our three boys that went to the same middle school and were friends prior to coming on course.
And thus began my latest course down in the Everglades, KLF196. It's truly amazing what all can happen in 30 days. Sometimes it doesn't seem like anything happens, but somewhere, deep inside, a seed is planted. At least, that's what I tell myself. During brief on this course, my lead, Liz, told us:
"It's like throwing a seed at a rock, and it just bounces off that rock. But it lands somewhere near that rock, and in 15 years, grows into a beautiful tree. And they have no clue where that tree came from but are like, 'Wow, that's a really awesome tree. That's a great idea. I'm going to do that."
And it's so true. Our kids as young 13, 14, 15, and 16 year olds are like rocks right now and want to resist so hard to learning and changing. But like Liz said, that seed eventually starts to grow, and while we might not be there to see the fruits of our labor, we have to have faith that someday our work and our love will be remembered and put to use.
I'm not trying to brag or sound conceited, but I honestly believe that the instructors that work here in the Southeast with me have one of the hardest jobs in the world. Not only do we take kids into the wilderness (where they would literally die without us) and teach them wilderness skills like paddling, tying knots, starting a fire, pooping in a bucket, but we also have to be teachers, doctors, judges, parents, counselors, babysitters, janitors, chefs, biologist, tour guide, meteorologist, and so much more. And on top of all this, we are working with a population of students that have a wide variety of issues ranging from anger problems to substance abuse issues to poor performance in school and more. Put 6 to 11 kids together who all have these issues, and you've got quite the combination. In regular schools, teachers and administrators are always looking out to prevent behaviors from happening. But here at OB in the Southeast, we're there to manage the behaviors when they happen. Crazy, right? But how are kids ever going to learn if they don't experience the behavior and then figure out how to work through it as it's happening?
One of the girls on this course I just did got suspended one of the last days of follow-up for cursing out an assistant principal. But you know what the cool thing is? Before she cussed him out, she thought about not doing it. Of course, the dumb ass had to open his mouth and say one more thing that blew that thought right out of her mind, but the fact that she stopped and actually thought about not doing it is progress. Made me so proud.
After we got the kids and ran through the regular to do (like duffel shuffle, lunch, and swim check), we drove to the Long Pine campground in the Everglades National Park. It still boggles my mind sometimes when I think about the fact that I was leading a wilderness expedition in the EVERGLADES. When most people think of the Everglades, they think alligators and crocs everywhere and this tropical, rainforesty type place. In reality, the Everglades is technically a desert. Weird, right? Well, it is. And basically all it is is mangroves with channels through it that you can paddle or boat through. We did see a few alligators on this trip, two that decided we were quite interesting and swam around our board up all night. But they're not everywhere like people think they are. But what is everywhere is the damn mosquitoes. Seriously, could someone please tell me what the purpose of mosquitoes are other than to annoy and bite the crap out of you?
At Long Pine that night, the mosquitoes were thick and relentless. They sought any possible means to bite you, and they were mightily successful with our kiddos. My poor co's weren't in much better shape. Lucky for me, I had my awesome Wintergreen pants from up in Ely, Minnesota, and my awesome bug shirt (I would highly recommend both to any instructor working in a mosquito ridden area). We got the kids in their healy hammocks that night, only to find that some were already ripped with holes which the mosquitoes quickly found. Healy hammocks are kind of like mesh netting coffins that are hung between two lines of p-cord. They're not actually "hammocks" that hang off the ground; that's a bit of a misnomer. It takes a bit of practice to get one set up correctly so that the mesh doesn't touch you while you're sleeping; otherwise, the mosquitoes can just bit you right through there. It was definitely a blessing to jump in there each night. A little safe haven from the bug hell that waited just outside.
The next day, we got up and ran through our morning routine with the kids, swatting mosquitoes away in the process. Our kids weren't the most receptive to what we had to say or teach them, but we plugged away and held to our structure. Structure is what these kids need more than anything, and as much as they would never tell you, a lot of them crave it. So many of these kids come from homes with no structure or consistency, and they come to us and it's a relief for them to know that when they do A, B will happen. They begin to trust you when that happens, too.
That afternoon, with clouds covering the sun (and continuing to cover the sun continuously for the next 6 days), we drove to the Long Pine pond to do canoe training. Before we even hit the water, two of our students got into a verbal altercation which quickly escalated into a physical one. Liz and I went into action separating the students and escorting them away from each other; however, the kids decided not to keep their mouths shut and kept yelling racial slurs at each other and before Liz and I knew it, one student had charged the other student. Liz tried to hang on to him for dear life, but this kid, who we likened to a man-boy-bear-pig, threw her off his back like nothing. At this point, while Liz and I are working on restraining this student, one of our other students that's still with the group starts running over saying, "He can't do that to a girl!" Our co-instructor, Mark, told Kyle to come back and that we "could handle ourselves." Girl power! =)
We were all a bit shook up after the experience. It's definitely a scary thing when kids start fighting, and you have to get in there to stop them. Of course, restraining a student is always a last resort. We are taught to try to use verbal deescalation techniques first before putting hands on a student, but if students become dangerous to themselves or others, then we have to step in. It's total adrenaline when you get in there, and you are definitely aware that you could get hit in the process. I've managed to have a few glancing blows off the back of my head and back during one altercation between students in addition to getting thrown to the ground. But the reason we do it is because we don't want them to hurt themselves or others or get an assault charge.
Both our kids eventually came back to the group in a better space, and we headed out onto the water to practice paddling and boarding up. The sprinkles started then and little did we know would continue unabated for the next six days. Our kids loved paddling, and most of them got the hang of it relatively quickly. The boarding up process that day was a bit sloppy, but we managed to get through it and get back to land at a decent time.
That night, we headed back to camp and once again withstood bug hell. Never a fun experience. We got the kids to bed early and told them to plan on an early morning, as people have found the earlier you get them up and to the put in at Hell's Bay canoe trail, the less likely they are to try and run away because they're still so tired and out of it. My co-instructors and I also had a long talk that night about the possibility of removing one of our students who had proved to be a handful from the minute course started the day before. He was continually being separated for not following expectations, and despite committing over and over again to not repeating the same behavior, he would. It was difficult because the kid had little to no investment in course. The only reason he agreed to come was because if he completed the course, he would get to leave the shelter he had been living at and go home. Other than that, he was not there to learn or work on anything, and he let us know on a regular basis. His behavior was negatively influencing the rest of the group, but we struggled to decide if it was fair to give up on him so soon in addition to fearing that sending him home on day three of course would set a bad example for the rest of the students who were still asking to go home. In the end, he stayed (well, that is, until he had to be removed later in course for medical reasons). He's definitely a kid I won't forget, and I'll probably think back to the time he was with us a lot and try to figure out how we could've handled him and situation differently to help him and the rest of the group be more successful.
I was really excited for this course. Not only because I had a great team and because it was my first course in the Everglades, but because I had been around so many course starts and course ends recently, I just wanted to get back out in the field and have my own kids and prove to people that I can be a great instructor. On my last course this summer, I really f****ed up. I was extremely passive in communicating how I felt about course with my co-instructors, and as a result, my relationship with them deteriorated and was never resurrected because I didn't have the balls to say something. It really sucked, especially because apart from that, we had a really amazing group of students. I look back on that course now and wish so hard that I could change what I did. But, you can't change the past. I know that, but I wish I could. And because of my shitty communication on that course, I dug myself a pretty deep hole with my supervisors and the staffing manager. Now, there's a red flag on me that says, "Stephanie can't communicate or manage her co-instructors, which is a vital skill of a lead instructor." It really sucks.
When I was talking with the staffing manager on the phone about it, she told me about how that really worried her about me being promoted to a lead instructor. She used the metaphor of the star player of a team and the team captain, saying that an assist is like the star player (stellar, solid skills; always in the game; scoring the goals; etc.) whereas the lead instructor is like the captain (managing people; having a vision; etc.). Little does Katie know, I was never the star player. I was always the captain. Right now, I don't really feel like either.
I walked away from this last course with a confidence I hadn't felt before and a feeling of contentment, success, and fulfillment. I knew/know there were/are still things for me to work on, but I really got knocked down several pegs after hearing the feedback on my evals and talking to Katie. Feedback is one thing that I love/hate about this job. It's so great to hear the positive feedback and find out what you're doing well, and it's also great getting constructive feedback to hear what you can work on. However, I have this horrible tendency to uber focus on the constructive feedback to the point where it completely blocks out the positive. I've had this problem since my first course, and it can really take a toll on one's confidence. It doesn't help that when I get a lot of this feedback, I'm already going into transition stress mode and all the emotions and feelings from course that I've put off are starting to crash down on me. I need to work on accepting the feedback, saying thank you, taking what applies, and letting the rest go.
Well, this last bit has been a bit more of a diary entry than an update on my life and travels. Whoops. Hopefully I didn't bore you too much! And sorry about the cursing. There probably will be more of that. Had a productive day today here at the beach house. Made a birthday card, washed my car, cleaned the downstairs apartment, read on the beach, took a nap, went for a run on the beach. It was a good day. Quiet evening ahead with more productiveness tomorrow.
"There is more in you than you know!" Gotta keep telling myself that everyday! Lots of love to all! =)
Saturday, November 12, 2011
And the adventure begins!
So, two summers ago I attempted to start a blog about my adventures at Outward Bound. Unfortunately, I was not a dedicated blogger, and my blog quickly became just another forgotten document on the Web. I've decided to attempt a blog once again, to not only update people on my travels west over the next month but also to input stories that have happened on my courses in the past year.
I finished my 7th course yesterday down in Key Largo. Today, my wonderful co-instructor, Liz, and I drove north to Fernandina Beach to the beach house, beginning the first leg of my epic journey that will ultimately take me to Fairhope, AL; Allen, TX; Albuquerque, NM; the Grand Canyon; Yuma, AZ; Phoenix, AZ; Arches National Park; Provo, UT; Denver, CO; Tulsa, OK; and back to Fairhope for a week of work before heading home for Christmas.
Both Liz and I were exhausted when we pulled up to the beach house at 6:00pm. I think we both could've gone to bed right then. Course can definitely take a toll on you, and I think for me all the emotion and exhaustion that builds up on course comes crashing down on me once it's done.
It was definitely sad to say "good bye" to our kiddos last night. Despite the craziness on our course with the weather and angry kids, I really fell in love with these kids. We went through so much together that no one else other than the people there will ever be able to understand: six days of continuous rain, an epic storm that woke us up at 7:00am with drenching rains/40+mph winds/lightning, a medical evacuation of all students and instructors, a buggy as all hell solo w/no downtime, and an awesome last night paddle from the South Joe chickee to Coots Bay. They were, and are, survivors.
In fact, one of those little survivors is the inspiration for the name of my blog. One of my students, Brandon, introduced me to a whole new vocabulary while I was on course. Brandon would always tell me that he "been" (pronounced "bin"). If I got it right, "been" means that someone's done something; they've been there, done that. One of my other students, Joshua, took this and said one day he would get a tattoo that said "Outward Been," especially after all the adventures we had gone through.
Other words that have crept into my vocabulary as a result of this course include: tip (means "I agree"), herbing (means "That's crazy/stupid/bogus"...at least that's what the kids said), posting (means "hanging out"), and fire (means "awesome"). I also now love to say "Nah" now in the most annoying voice ever as a result of my student Matt. I think that one might stick.
But I learned so much more on this course than new words. I'll just have to include the anecdotes from this course throughout my posts in the coming weeks, as I don't have enough patience to write it all in one sitting.
The next few days will be spent at the beach house with the fabulous Liz, Caitlin, and Rachel (once she gets back) before I head to Fairhope on either Tuesday or Wednesday (depending on how I'm feeling). Already have a to do list, including paying a toll that I missed today while driving (oops!) and washing my ridiculously dirty car that has not seen much love in the past month. And lots of running! Gotta get back in shape!
Now, though, time for sleep.
"A ship is safest in the harbor, but that's not what ships were made for." Here I go...Outward Bound!
I finished my 7th course yesterday down in Key Largo. Today, my wonderful co-instructor, Liz, and I drove north to Fernandina Beach to the beach house, beginning the first leg of my epic journey that will ultimately take me to Fairhope, AL; Allen, TX; Albuquerque, NM; the Grand Canyon; Yuma, AZ; Phoenix, AZ; Arches National Park; Provo, UT; Denver, CO; Tulsa, OK; and back to Fairhope for a week of work before heading home for Christmas.
Both Liz and I were exhausted when we pulled up to the beach house at 6:00pm. I think we both could've gone to bed right then. Course can definitely take a toll on you, and I think for me all the emotion and exhaustion that builds up on course comes crashing down on me once it's done.
It was definitely sad to say "good bye" to our kiddos last night. Despite the craziness on our course with the weather and angry kids, I really fell in love with these kids. We went through so much together that no one else other than the people there will ever be able to understand: six days of continuous rain, an epic storm that woke us up at 7:00am with drenching rains/40+mph winds/lightning, a medical evacuation of all students and instructors, a buggy as all hell solo w/no downtime, and an awesome last night paddle from the South Joe chickee to Coots Bay. They were, and are, survivors.
In fact, one of those little survivors is the inspiration for the name of my blog. One of my students, Brandon, introduced me to a whole new vocabulary while I was on course. Brandon would always tell me that he "been" (pronounced "bin"). If I got it right, "been" means that someone's done something; they've been there, done that. One of my other students, Joshua, took this and said one day he would get a tattoo that said "Outward Been," especially after all the adventures we had gone through.
Other words that have crept into my vocabulary as a result of this course include: tip (means "I agree"), herbing (means "That's crazy/stupid/bogus"...at least that's what the kids said), posting (means "hanging out"), and fire (means "awesome"). I also now love to say "Nah" now in the most annoying voice ever as a result of my student Matt. I think that one might stick.
But I learned so much more on this course than new words. I'll just have to include the anecdotes from this course throughout my posts in the coming weeks, as I don't have enough patience to write it all in one sitting.
The next few days will be spent at the beach house with the fabulous Liz, Caitlin, and Rachel (once she gets back) before I head to Fairhope on either Tuesday or Wednesday (depending on how I'm feeling). Already have a to do list, including paying a toll that I missed today while driving (oops!) and washing my ridiculously dirty car that has not seen much love in the past month. And lots of running! Gotta get back in shape!
Now, though, time for sleep.
"A ship is safest in the harbor, but that's not what ships were made for." Here I go...Outward Bound!
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