fin de otoño reflection

Happy Fall, Thanksgiving, and soon to come, Advent. Some days it seems as though we have been here for a long time. When I think about all the rush we experienced to pack up our apartment in Forest Park, cancel all our utilities, say goodbye to everyone while packing in all the dental appointments we could before we lost our insurance, those events seem so far away. Other times when speaking Spanish is tiring or when I’m at a loss for what to do with the kids, I’m thankful we’ve only spent about 1/3 of our commitment here so far. I could use the rest of the time to make numerous improvements. I do feel like I’m starting to find my place here, though, and settle into the smooth, calming rhythm of continuous, sometimes chaotic, daily change.

One of my more recent challenges has been to maintain energy. I just don’t know how elementary school teachers do it. Some days I feel like I start fresh, with all frustrations from the day before forgotten and my stock of patience refilled. Other days, when the same kid is acting up as the day before, I forget the hours that passed since then and feel myself heading right back to where I was with that kid yesterday—past the point of creative solutions and straight to raising voice or threatening with a written report. Some of these days I feel like seven months left to go are just a few too many.

Going to the retreat in Saltillo last week was tremendously helpful with all of this. The best gift of the retreat was getting to hear from the other year-long volunteers about the challenges they face and some of the different ways in which they handle everything. It was wonderful to know that we are all going through similar experiences and that not one of us is failing at them. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, but coming together as a group and feeling such tremendous support was such a lift for us all. Rick says that the mid-year retreat is meant to be like a booster shot, just enough to recharge us and keep us going strong for the rest of the year. For me, it was like a great big hug, and then a swift kick in the butt. At first I was comforted by being able to share our experience with the others and hear their stories and meet their kids as well. After a few days, though, I was thinking to myself, “Alright. Now when you get back, you have a lot of work to do. You’ve thought about it, prayed about it, and now need to maintain the energy and determination to follow through with it. Get going.” So much about our experience this year depends on what we make of it ourselves. The sisters here are not going to push us past a breaking point, but we do have to take it upon ourselves to really get in there and do something. This is a gift but can also be a challenge because we have to find the best ways to share ourselves with the children. I am learning that this can be a slower process than expected and can not be taught outright by anyone working here. This process takes a lot of observing at first, which made me feel like I wasn’t contributing. I still challenge myself to really make a place here and in the lives of these kids, but again, I still have about seven months to go… poco a poco.

The support we have been receiving from our family, friends, and even people we didn’t know has been amazing. It was incredible to meet all the volunteers who came down to Saltillo for a week on a mission trip while we were there for the retreat. I couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt to know that they were all praying for us, and how much it meant to hear such encouraging words from people who had heard about us, but until moments before, had been complete strangers. Emails from family and friends help keep our spirits up, and honestly I don’t think we’d make it through the year without their incredible support. The sisters here also frequently invite us to talk about how everything is going and almost daily say to me, “Lo que necesite, aquí estoy.” (Whatever you need, I am here.)

Another part of this whole experience that has really started going well is my relationship with the older kids. When we first got here, I was extremely sensitive about anything the older kids said to me because I often couldn’t tell if they were making fun of me or being rude. I used to drive myself crazy with frustration and sometimes anger and would vent furiously to Luis about something one of the older kids said to me and how I didn’t know how to respond. Sometimes, when I did respond, I shot back the same attitude and could hear the voice of my 13 year-old self. (Ask my older brother, Eric, if you need clarification about what that might have sounded like.) I hated the feeling that they had the upper hand and I was feeling younger than them and most definitely disrespected as an adult. Well, I can’t say that this was the best way to handle it, but the truth is that after about two weeks I completely cut myself off from the older groups. I spent the mornings with the kindergarteners and the afternoons with the first and second-graders. (Now they don’t always respect me as an adult, either, but that’s a different issue in itself.) Any communication with an older kid was quick and to the point. I was afraid to say too much to them for fear of them witnessing my embarrassment.

Well, I don’t know when all of this starting changing, but I first realized something was different a few weeks ago. A few of sixth-grade girls were asking me about something, and after a few minutes, Carmen said, “You speak pretty strange, but I can understand you.” That by itself was a compliment, at least in the way it made me feel. But then we started talking about why I sound so different, and they didn’t seem to know the answer. I thought that it was obvious to everyone that I would have grown up speaking English and therefore, would have a different accent and would still be learning how to speak another language. Somehow, this thought hadn’t occurred to these girls because then they were confused and were asking me how I knew how to speak Spanish. I tried to explain that I have been trying to learn Spanish as an adult, which includes learning sounds that we don’t use in English. This was all news to them, which again was a compliment to me because I felt like they’d given me credit for speaking Spanish all my life, just with an accent that made me sound “bien rara,” or “quite strange.”

Ever since that day I realized that I have a different attitude with the older kids which I believe stems out of greater confidence in speaking Spanish. I am happy now to be able to sit and chat with the older kids, and I can tell them if I don’t understand something that they said. I can also tell more clearly if they are being rude. From what I’ve experienced more recently, though, they are respecting me more because I am spending time with them and making time to develop better relationships. It’s also nice, by the way, to feel something other than completely terrified at the idea of talking with a preteen, being as it is, that I am double their age.

I have to tell you that Luis used my idea to talk about the reading (Matthew 25:31-46) from this past Sunday to relate to our experience here. This reading is the perfect example of how God speaks to me, or at least of how I can actually listen. There’s really not a lot of room for argument or debate, and it’s a part of the Bible that makes a lot of sense to me. The reading is about how doing things for others is also doing those things for God. When we had our orientation and beginning of the year retreat, I listened to some of the other volunteers express that the reason they are volunteering for the year is because it’s God’s will. They made it sound so clear and simple. I asked myself if we had come because we thought it was specifically what God was wanting us to do, and I decided that maybe I hadn’t exactly thought about it like that. Through this passage, though, I can hear that I am doing the best I can right now to see God in my life by looking for Him in those around me who are so much in need of love. There’s a lot I don’t understand about faith, but I figure this experience could only move us in the right direction. Hopefully, we are close enough to being on the right path.

Janiene