It hasn't been a sprint or a stand-still. Two and a half years has neither dragged nor flown. The days have marched by diligently. They scarcely know of any other option, and I have doubts that days are even self-aware. Then again, I can't say I've ever really gotten to know them individually. I usually only spend 24 hours with one before moving on to the next. I hope that doesn't make me shallow. Yeah, I've got jokes.
I wish that I could remember each day individually, but my brain does not operate with such sequential efficiency. I retain days here and there. I remember the first day that I came to the Holy Land Institute for the Deaf (which I believe was September 11, 2009, and was a day that profoundly changed the course which my life would take). I remember the many days that co-workers have reminded me that THEY remember the first day that I came to the HLID. I remember November 27, 2011, as a day that a beloved student passed away. I remember the day that I went home and just collapsed on the floor, praying for a bit more wisdom, strength, and patience. I remember the day Mohammed first correctly used numbers to convey how many falafel he wanted to eat. I remember the day I told my mother I was extending my term. I remember the day that I figured out my student didn't understand the idea of expressive communication. I remember the day I came to the school to check email, and found out that I'd been accepted into the M.Ed. program at Boston College's Lynch School of Education.
There have been many isolated events, ranging over the entire emotional spectrum. I've been furious. I've been elated. I've been content. I've been displeased and recalcitrant (+15 point combo). I've been thankful. I've been ungrateful. Each day is great, but also unpredictable due to my conscious and subconscious responses to the day's events.
One predictable element of each day, though, has been the opportunity to learn. I am not always intentional in the ways that I engage these opportunities. Still, passive learning finds a way to take each day an instill within me new ideas, new understandings. To opportunity to learn: This is a blessing.
MCC's SALT program is aptly named. Serving And Learning Together. The need to learn is too often undervalued, as service has such wonderful and perhaps more tangible results. Especially as an American, I had a sense of privilege, which promoted a sense of obligation to bestow a better quality of life upon those I encountered. This is dangerous, though, as being privileged can also imply that the people I would encountered were in need. In need of the things that made me privileged. Money. Education. Certain freedoms. Technology. And so forth.
Without learning, service begets pity and imbues a sense of self-sacrifice. "Yes, I help an utterly incapable young man. He really is quite unable to do most things on his own, and I have sacrificed a comfortable life to take care of him. Indeed, I am owed admiration for such selflessness and commitment. I should be acknowledged and supported in every way, as I could certainly have chosen an easier life."
With learning, service changes perspective and unifies us. "Yes, I work daily with a wonderful young man, whose stubbornness and humor rival my own. He really is quite capable when recognized, supported, and respected, much like myself. No, I don't think that life could be much better than this, regardless of cultural or vocational circumstances. It is a blessing to be able to work with him, and I hardly feel like the title of "service worker" is accurate. He has taught me very much, and I am better for it. Together, we do great things."
Through the opportunity that was placed in front of me, I have been lucky enough to see God's hand in much of what I do with my own hands, as well as the hands of my student. To be blessed with innumerable opportunities to learn. To have had such a wonderful experience that I did nothing to deserve, much in the same way I am loved unconditionally.
With only a few months left in my term, it is only slightly terrifying to think of moving on. Yet, I think that a commitment to continue living in a specific way, with a focus on loving and serving others in accordance with my faith, will provide many more opportunities. Opportunities to have my perspective changed and to be unified with others in myriad ways, all the while learning. I feel like I am in "Remember the Titans" when I say, "You can't replace a Mohammed." And it is true, I will never find another like him. But there will be others. And if I can continue to live out my faith, I will meet them, and learn from them. Together. We do great things. Peace.
I wish that I could remember each day individually, but my brain does not operate with such sequential efficiency. I retain days here and there. I remember the first day that I came to the Holy Land Institute for the Deaf (which I believe was September 11, 2009, and was a day that profoundly changed the course which my life would take). I remember the many days that co-workers have reminded me that THEY remember the first day that I came to the HLID. I remember November 27, 2011, as a day that a beloved student passed away. I remember the day that I went home and just collapsed on the floor, praying for a bit more wisdom, strength, and patience. I remember the day Mohammed first correctly used numbers to convey how many falafel he wanted to eat. I remember the day I told my mother I was extending my term. I remember the day that I figured out my student didn't understand the idea of expressive communication. I remember the day I came to the school to check email, and found out that I'd been accepted into the M.Ed. program at Boston College's Lynch School of Education.
There have been many isolated events, ranging over the entire emotional spectrum. I've been furious. I've been elated. I've been content. I've been displeased and recalcitrant (+15 point combo). I've been thankful. I've been ungrateful. Each day is great, but also unpredictable due to my conscious and subconscious responses to the day's events.
One predictable element of each day, though, has been the opportunity to learn. I am not always intentional in the ways that I engage these opportunities. Still, passive learning finds a way to take each day an instill within me new ideas, new understandings. To opportunity to learn: This is a blessing.
MCC's SALT program is aptly named. Serving And Learning Together. The need to learn is too often undervalued, as service has such wonderful and perhaps more tangible results. Especially as an American, I had a sense of privilege, which promoted a sense of obligation to bestow a better quality of life upon those I encountered. This is dangerous, though, as being privileged can also imply that the people I would encountered were in need. In need of the things that made me privileged. Money. Education. Certain freedoms. Technology. And so forth.
Without learning, service begets pity and imbues a sense of self-sacrifice. "Yes, I help an utterly incapable young man. He really is quite unable to do most things on his own, and I have sacrificed a comfortable life to take care of him. Indeed, I am owed admiration for such selflessness and commitment. I should be acknowledged and supported in every way, as I could certainly have chosen an easier life."
With learning, service changes perspective and unifies us. "Yes, I work daily with a wonderful young man, whose stubbornness and humor rival my own. He really is quite capable when recognized, supported, and respected, much like myself. No, I don't think that life could be much better than this, regardless of cultural or vocational circumstances. It is a blessing to be able to work with him, and I hardly feel like the title of "service worker" is accurate. He has taught me very much, and I am better for it. Together, we do great things."
Through the opportunity that was placed in front of me, I have been lucky enough to see God's hand in much of what I do with my own hands, as well as the hands of my student. To be blessed with innumerable opportunities to learn. To have had such a wonderful experience that I did nothing to deserve, much in the same way I am loved unconditionally.
With only a few months left in my term, it is only slightly terrifying to think of moving on. Yet, I think that a commitment to continue living in a specific way, with a focus on loving and serving others in accordance with my faith, will provide many more opportunities. Opportunities to have my perspective changed and to be unified with others in myriad ways, all the while learning. I feel like I am in "Remember the Titans" when I say, "You can't replace a Mohammed." And it is true, I will never find another like him. But there will be others. And if I can continue to live out my faith, I will meet them, and learn from them. Together. We do great things. Peace.
