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! =)