Dear Mr. McPherson’s 7th grade class

It makes me feel happy to know that my blog is actually sharing a small piece of the world with those who may never get the chance to experience it firsthand.  The Peace Corps encourages us to keep blogs for precisely that reason.  I started it as a way to let my family and friends know what I’ve been doing since it is difficult to individually write each person, but I’m watching as it expands to those I’ve never met.  The pressure is on to express things accurately.

When I was in grade 7, I knew what the Peace Corps was but I don’t think I ever considered myself to be the right kind of candidate.   I didn’t have much confidence in myself and couldn’t see my own potential.  I think many of us feel that way as we navigate through our teenage years.  I had never traveled outside of the United States, though I wanted to.  Africa was never a continent I planned to visit, except for maybe the pyramids of Egypt, something I learned about at a young age.  It was a scary place.  I actually felt that way until the day I received an email from the Peace Corps telling me I was being considered for service in Namibia.  I had to Google search it because I was so ignorant about this place and what they were looking for in me.

I am a person who feels that the Universe or God gives us experiences to expand our knowledge; broaden our horizons.  What an amazing opportunity to learn about our world and break the stereotypes which so naturally attach themselves to the things we know little about.  I would have learned in any country, but this seems like the place I was meant to be; the place that has the most to teach me right now.  I never stop seeking knowledge, even when I teach for a living.

Probably the most important lesson I’m learning is the universality of the human experience.  Sure, we are all different, culturally, but we also all experience joy, heartache, love, rejection, insecurity, and ambition.  When we fear others for their differences, we miss the opportunity to connect on our similarities.  When you move away from everyone and everything you’ve ever known, it is very important to search for the similarities so that you can begin to create a home away from home.  In all honesty, this has been a very difficult piece of my journey.  It is a daily struggle with highs and lows at every turn. 

It’s easy to fall into an “us versus them” mentality since we naturally gravitate towards that which is familiar.  In my case, this is the other Americans living in my region.  In the United States, this can be the community you grew up in and the culture of those people.  New Kent, Virginia is quite different from Downtown Richmond, and even further from Compton, Los Angeles.  Here, the Americans are from every background, yet, we are united by our 1 commonality.  If I traveled in a spaceship to an alien world, I’d gravitate towards other earthlings (whether they were Namibian or American) since we’d both identify with humanity.  As I try to step out of my comfort zone, I hope you do the same.  No matter where someone comes from or what they look like, you have more in common than you imagine. 

People often tell us (myself and other Peace Corps Volunteers) that we are brave.  It is a flattering thing to hear but almost always makes me chuckle because I am afraid.  I am only human, after all, and most of us would not be able to do this without fear.  Here is what I learned that led me to apply for service and what I still feel is true today:

Change is terrifying. 

Sometimes it is exciting and fun and sometimes you are met with failure and heartache.  You never know which path you are about to travel.

Do you know what I believe to be even more terrifying than this?

Staying in a place that does not bring you joy because the alternative “might” be worse. 

It also might be better.  One thing is for sure though: change, no matter how difficult, always builds a better you.  We cannot grow or learn new things without experiencing the new.  I always try to remember this on my darkest days.  Something may be painful but I’m going to be stronger at the end of it.  In this sense, we can say thank you to all experiences, good and bad, because we can know it will shape us into who we are meant to be.

We must stretch to our furthest limits of joy and sorrow to know the truth of life.

I certainly still have a long way to go and my growth won’t end with the Peace Corps, though I’m curious to see the woman I am as I touch down in the United States next year.

I think of this experience as a shortcut to growth that the world had intended for me anyways.  You don’t have to move to Africa as a volunteer to expand, you just need to find your own ways of challenging yourself and the beliefs that you hold.

I will share your letters with my learners and I'm sure they will be so happy to receive them.  I will have them respond as soon as we have the class time.

Good luck with all the learning you will encounter this year!

Term 1 - Year 1

Hello, once again.  I’m sure you’re wondering what I’ve been up to lately; how my first term of teaching is going and all that.

Well, let me start by saying I have been a bit of a mess.  Mostly on the inside, as I do not like to let my emotions be seen by others.  I am curious as to just how far a person can go bottling up their emotions before they crack. 

Yes, I do want to be this ideal volunteer who carriers herself with grace and kindness, passing out smiles to all who cross her path, some swearing they could see a golden halo of light illuminating her face…but let’s face it: I am human and humans experience stress, anger, sadness, and fear.  This is all mega-intensified by the fact that I miss my mommy (and everyone else from my world in the United States).

The bottling has resulted in dysfunctional tear ducts which refuse to produce any kind of emotional relief.  Another consequence is a frequently irritable and sometimes volcanic personality which then leaves me feeling guilty for not being the angel I want myself to be.

Anger and guilt.

But fear not, dear friends.  There have been beautiful moments within the madness. 

Those of you who knew me through high school and college years know that I never wanted to be a teacher.  In fact, I would get angry when anyone made that assumption based on my choice to be an English major.  The truth is, I would never want to teach teenagers English in the United States. What I’m doing here is a bit different, however, and I believe it to be a fruitful 2 year experience.

I’m in a small school of around 300 learners.  I know each of their faces and I’m slowly getting there with names.  They are at an age where they think for themselves and act like young adults, yet they still look to me for guidance.  I have an opportunity to model love and kindness; strength and understanding. 

I rarely use my anger on them.  Naturally, they can drive me nuts and bring out my grumpy, stiff side, but I usually manage to keep my cool.

They are the brightest part of life these days and I find myself saying prayers of gratitude every now and then for getting to spend my day hanging out with them.  I’ve also found that I am more myself with them than I can manage to be anywhere else.  I have no shame, embarrassment, or insecurities around them.  I can sing, dance, make silly faces, and act like a complete idiot in their presence.  I don’t care in the slightest if they think I’m weird.

Now, to share a few of the good parts:

Humming Homonyms 

I was teaching synonyms, antonyms, homonyms, and homophones.  I know they know there are names for those things but they are clueless on how to remember which is which.  I mean, how are you going to teach a word like “homonym” to a group of teens who don’t understand half the words that leave your mouth?  My mood was cheery and they were awake and alert enough that I spontaneously produced a song, sang it to them, wrote down the lyrics for them to copy, and made them all sing it with me.  They were humming the tune for the remainder of the day.

Motivational Miss 

I was teaching a poem on body image called “I am looking for myself” in which the poet discusses looking for some model or movie star who looks like them so that they can be validated.  I was particularly moved by the poem, especially since I recently survived my own teen years in which I never felt OK with myself as I was.  My class discussion turned into a motivational speech by Miss Bailey.  I would have cut it short but they were so engaged.  The boys who usually sit in the back trying to sneak a nap were wide awake, eyes glued to me in interest.  One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, the entire class was chanting “I am awesome!” as I held a boy’s hands over his head in victory.  I tend to get a bit cheesy at times, but what can I say?  I am cheesy. 

Nobody Nose How Awkward I Can Be

Same day, same class:

I wanted to explain the concept of plastic surgery to get them to talk about whether or not changing yourself to look like someone else qualifies as self-acceptance.  I often illustrate words on the board to assist their understanding.  I decided a nose job would be an appropriate example so I quickly scribbled a before and after shot of the profile of someone’s face.  The first nose was long and drooping, rounded at the end…an exaggeration of a nose someone might want to get ‘fixed.’  The second looked fairly normal.  The back row of boys erupted into laughter.  I watched as their eyes bugged out of their faces in shock of my art skills.  “Yeah, yeah, I’m a terrible artist,” I thought to myself, “but their reaction is a bit extreme, isn’t it?”  I looked back to my drawing only to discover, in horror, that my pre-surgery nose looked very, very much like a feature of the male anatomy.  Yes, folks, I had just drawn a penis nose on the chalkboard in a room filled with teenagers between the ages of 13 and 18. 

Maybe in rare, unfortunate times like these, plastic surgery would be acceptable?

And Then There Was Girl's Club

I decided that I wanted to start an after school club so that learners could have a little bit of fun between all the work.  I, myself, was a member of a dozen clubs throughout my teenage years and I consider those experiences to be the most memorable.  I decided upon the Girl’s Club after seeing the same qualities in these girls that I exhibited at the same age; insecurities, bashfulness, and uncertainty mixed together with great beauty, intelligence, kindness, and potential. 

I am located in an area of the country with heart-braking rates of HIV infection and a common occurrence of teenage pregnancy.  The government, teachers, and community leaders are continuously looking for ways to intervene at an early age to guide the youth down a better path.  Girl’s Clubs are common across the country and they provide a safe environment for the learners to talk about prevention and how these things already affect their lives.  It is also meant to inspire them to believe in themselves and follow their dreams. 

We have only had 3 meetings at this point, my 4^th being this afternoon.  I’m thinking about teaching them how to make origami today.  I have around 20 girls showing up and the number is growing.  This club is a place where I can take off the teacher hat, and be relaxed.  I can get to know them better and see their incredible personalities shining through while they play games and laugh with each other.  My girls are truly special.  I tell them that too.

The Toughest Job You'll Ever Love

One slogan of the Peace Corps that I had memorized before even receiving my invitation letter is “The toughest job you’ll ever love.”  One day, as I watched the learners studying in my classroom after school, those words popped into my brain and caused me to chuckle to myself.  They keep me going when I have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning.  It is the best job I’ve had in my 10 years of being in the working world but definitely the most exhausting.  As the time moves on, I hope to see a more tranquil personal life.

Wish me luck as we approach the end of term 1, year 1.