Taking Stock

In the last 5 months, I have lost two grandparents and a coworker. I lost one of my jobs, the one that gave me the most joy. I have been betrayed by a woman who I once called a friend and colleague. I crashed my bike once. Two of my loved ones have been deeply hurt and betrayed by an outsider. I bowed out of a triathlon because of a severe case of bronchitis. I have cried. A Lot. I have made some mistakes. My favorite cyclist has been accused of doping. I have not learned how to say no.

On the other hand, in those same 5 months, I have honored the lives of 2 people who were deeply a part of my life, and one who inspired me professionally. I have spent some much needed grieving time with my family, including those I don't see often. I spent about a total of 10 days with my niece and nephew. I paved the way for a former teen to go back to college, and am watching him thrive. I camped with a close friend and  mentor in the French Alps. We presented our project at an international conference and I've got 2 more in the next 10 days. I went to an amazing international conference. I saw three stages of the Tour de France. I competed in 5 triathlons, with personal bests in all 5. I ran in 7 running races. I rode in one ride for charity. I swam faster than ever. And I have made new friends. I watched 4 more teens head off to college. I still have one fulltime job and two parttimes. And I'm working on a plan to still work with the youth...

...Not that it hasn't been hard, but I'm working to turn the corner...

I will NOT back down. And I won't give in.

Birthdays

Lately, I've given into lots of reminiscing. On a recent day, I was thinking about birthdays. Not my own, but of others'. With the youth, I've always thought celebrating birthdays was important. It is the one day that you get to really focus in on the one person - on making sure that person feels needed, loved, cared about...
When I was younger, I don't think they mattered much to me - birthdays, that is. I've never been one to advertise my own, though I do enjoy having a few friends over just to enjoy some time together.
But it was by celebrating someone else's that I first realized how powerful celebrating someone else's life could be.
It was early December 2001. My friend Kathy and I had been in Mumbai, India for just about two weeks. We weren't there as tourists. We were there to learn, to share and to get to know people. I'd taken a two month sabbatical from a job that just didn't pull at my heart-strings. Kathy had taken 3 weeks to start off the experience with me. If you asked my dad what I was doing, or where I was going, he would have said (and proudly, most preferably at church) "She's going to volunteer in a brothel in India." Yeah, he liked to make it sound kind of racey!
The truth was, Kathy and I had been volunteering with a non-profit in DC that provided services to women, men and children who worked the streets. We loved the outreach - we loved the people, and we were pretty good listeners. We laughed, we cried, we handed out condoms. Then, at my day job, my boss had gotten to know a young woman who had just made a documentary on the selling of girls in Nepal, who were then trafficked into sex work in Mumbai. I got to know Ruchi, and one random day, asked how I might be able to help.
Ruchi had just begun a drop-in center-like place just out side of the red-light district in Mumbai, and said it would be great if I wanted to travel there for a month or two to get to know the women there. I jumped at the chance and Kathy tagged along (she later told me she never thought I'd really go through with it, but was glad I did). It turned out to be one of the most impressionable experiences of my life.
Anyway, yes, I know - I was talking about birthdays.
You see, the people we met there, were amazing. They had nothing, but would give us the shirts of their backs, if they could. They invited us to their World AIDS Day celebration, just a few days after we got there. Kathy and I went. It was after this that the woman, who led us by the hand into the crowded theater where the celebration was taking place (we'll call her Suri), told us her birthday was a few days away.
Well, Kathy and I decided to get her a cake and oranges or something like that What did we know, we weren't sure what the etiquette said, but wanted to acknowledge that it was her birthday. To be honest, I don't remember much about the birthday celebration (except for Suri's smile).
What I remember is that 2 months later, when I was saying my last tearful goodbyes, as everyone who worked at the Centre said a few words about our time together, that Suri said, through her tears, that this past birthday had been the first that anyone had celebrated for her. I'd been clueless as to what that one small little thing had meant to her. But her response to it has stayed with me all these years.
And so we started a tradition. I knew when everyone's birthday was, and for the next few years, as the Centre continued to exist like I knew it, I would call on everyone's birthday. It wasn't a big group, just 3 or 4 women. And the calls were probably pretty funny, since they didn't speak much English, and my Hindi is even less existent, but they were times to say "Happy Birthday, I love you and I miss you."
Suri and most of the other women I knew there have passed away. But one remains. And every year, on her birthday, I call her. She doesn't work for the Centre any more, where she was a social worker. And there have been years when I didn't know how to get in touch with her. But I do now - and she knows how to get in touch with me. And each, on the other's birthday, makes that call across all those miles.
But the tradition continues...now the youth are the recipients of this tradition. They've come to expect it - even putting cake requests in ahead of time.
A birthday is an excellent reason to give someone a very special warm fuzzy just for them. And an awesome day to remember those who can't get their warm fuzzies in person. I wonder whether Suri knows how important her legacy is...

Culture & How to Use it Against Them

Honoring our youth is really an international issue - and in some places, it is an imperative. I've just finished reading "Culture is our Weapon" by Patrick Neate and Damian Platt. This is an account of the work of the NGO AfroReggae in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The favelas are the areas of the city, the neighborhoods in the hills, where most of the poorer residents of Rio live.
I've been to Rio twice, once last summer, and once 10.5 years ago. Both times, I visited a favela - two different ones. The first time, it was one of Rio's most well-known and biggest favelas, and our tour-guide was a resident of that favela. Last year, it felt much more like a tourist attraction - our guide was a Frenchman who had recently settled in Rio. Most of the people we saw were the electricians sent by the national grid to install electric boxes so that residents could get 'official' electricity. Clearly, there were many improvements - from the new cement steps to the painted and re-novated homes. And then there was the 'spot' where Michael Jackson recorded one of his videos. Ten years ago, 'favela tours' were new - and apparently rare. My friend and I were incredibly grateful to Ricco, our guide. Last year, I felt like I was watching a show.
Truth be told, I've been intrigued by the favelas since my first visit, and have watched many of the most well known movies and documentaries on the topic - City of God, Favela Rising, City of Men.
Why intrigued? For many of the reasons that "Culture is Our Weapon" lays out - these neighborhoods, which are not even legal, are full of life, yet full of violence. There are tons of children, yet very few, if any, schools. There are few jobs, but lots of opportunities for o trafico (the criminal sphere, including the drug trafficking). There is lots of culture, yet factions ruling many areas. All these contradictions. All the confusion.
But Culture is our Weapon gives hope. AfroReggae lures the kids, the young traffickers (and sometimes even the older ones) away from the criminality - and tries to capitalise on their creativity - on their ability to make their energy into something good, something positive. AfroReggae isn't just about music -it is about giving young people the tools they need to do well - whether it is a dance class, a computer lesson or any one of a number of other programs. It isn't about one size fits all - it changes depending on the favela the programming is setting up shop in (there are over 500 favelas in Rio).
It builds on relationships and partnerships between the leaders of AfroReggae and residents of the different favelas. Each AfroReggae chapter has a coordinator, and is set up to meet the needs of the particular community. It sometimes takes a couple of years for a program to really take off - without the buy-in of the community, it would be nothing.
Sure, AfroReggae has a leader - or a couple of leaders. But, in addition to bringing the news of AfroReggae around the world, they empower the local favela coordinators - the residents of the favela, the people who WANT something else, something better, something more.
In the end, it is about saving lives. The lives of the children of the favelas, who are left behind by the 'official' world, the children who, before AfroReggae, seemed to have less of a chance of making it into adulthood than that frog crossing the highway. It is about meeting the needs of a group of people - to help them make a difference in their lives, to give them the option to NOT get involved in the drugs or violence.
AfroReggae is working on becoming self-sufficient and restructuring. From what I can tell, about two-thirds of those who join AfroReggae stay away from o trafico, and stay in AfroReggae.
I find it hopeful. I find it creative. And I really loved reading about it.
But most of all, it was so important to know that objects aren't always what they seem. And tourism is sometimes just a show. But digging deeper, in many ways, brings more hope and a much better understanding.

If you ever have the chance to go to Rio, I recommend it - it is a fascinating city. In the meantime, pick up Culture is Our Weapon it is a fascinating read (and as a side note, it was a gift from my mom, who is eagerly waiting to read it herself).

Growing

As I sit here at my desk, and look out of my window, I can't help but notice the new buds on the trees, the sprinkling of pollen, the sun being out (and being out longer) and hearing the voices and giggles of children playing outside carry in through that open window.
It is a time of rebirth, a time of newness, but also means the arrival of allergies and asthma, brought on by all those signs of spring.
It made me think that sometimes even growth can be hard. I like to pitch growth as a wonderful aspect of life, and a great opportunity for newness and new opportunities. But sometimes, it is really hard to look past the immediate challenges it brings on.
Just thinking about it makes me shudder. Remember when your dad would tell you "It builds character" (UGH!) or someone tells you "If it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger" (OUCH!). Sometimes, looking at the bright side just doesn't cut it. Or what if that bright side isn't really what I was hoping for?
In the past few months, the growth of the group has both inhibited it, and sparked new change. But these seem to be changes that we are all struggling with. We grew because of our success. But now that growth is hampering us.
In a few weeks, the majority of the youth will be graduating from high school. But, because of any one of a number of things, our success is leaving us very short on new youth to carry the torch. We're trying to recruit, but perhaps we're too intimidating. Some of the youth who aren't graduating have kind of grown beyond the group - they've gotten what they need on Tuesday nights, and are now feeding their appetites in other ways - whether through music, sports or jobs.
I harbor the youth no illwill for this - in fact I completely understand it. Sometimes, when you're given the opportunity to grow, you have to take it, even if it means hampering someone else. The growth of the youth is just like the pollen - great in and of itself, but for some, it leaves a nasty allergic reaction. Their growth has left a void in the group - it has left us short-handed.
But I know that youth groups go through change, ebb and flow, get bigger and then smaller.
This growth spurt, too, shall pass. Let's just hope our budding flowers drop seeds for next year's buds.

Large Milestones

Team TADD celebrated a large milestone last week. We celebrated our 5th Anniversary. In case you are keeping track, that is over 250 meetings, more than 1,000 hours of meeting time and we've lost track of how many people.
We invited the Board to come, and some did. And we had food, of course. I wasn't sure what to expect of the evening, or what exactly I hoped we would do. But it all just came together awesomely.
We had new youth (first meeting), we had old youth (two of the four original members), we had youth who had only come once or twice, we had youth who have graduated... You name it, they were there. But there were still a LOT who weren't there. We remembered them. We named them by name. We giggled. We laughed.
And then I did warm fuzzies. Usually when I do warm fuzzies, I throw the little pom-pom-like fuzzballs out to them all at once with a comment about why - because of their hardwork, because we've accomplished something, because...
But last Tuesday, I did them individually. I walked around the table, with about 20 teens (ok, so some of them are in their 20s now...), and one by one talked about why they were special, what they contributed and what I remember most. And that I appreciate them. I knew from the outset I might cry - and said so, which led to them making lots of fun of me, which meant I didn't cry, which was awesome for me (I think they were secretly disappointed!).
Walking behind each one, placing my hand on their shoulder, holding their warm fuzzy out, I spent time thinking about each one of them. And talking about them. And at the end of every one, they all clapped for one another.
It was a wonderful trip down memory lane. And an amazing opportunity for me to really let the young folks know how much they mean to me. It was my soul food.
Each Board member go their own warm fuzzy, too, as did our special guests.
After I was done, many of them came up to me and gave me a hug, or told me about the impact I'd had on their lives or what Team TADD meant to them. I was so touched. For some of them, to open their hearts to me was a big step. For others, it was a natural progression. For me, it was a gift.
It reminded me of why I do this work. I have been getting so wrapped up in the politics, the difficulties, the challenges - not of working with the youth, but of everything else.
I don't know that I'll make it to Year 10. But at this moment, that doesn't matter. What matters is: for a group of young folks who meet once a week and have created some amazing projects, and even more wonderful relationships, Team TADD should be proud. Proud of who they are. Proud of their contribution. Proud of their visions. Proud for giving so much when it feels like the world gives so little.
I know that no matter where I go, what I do or who I meet, Team TADD will always hold a special spot in my heart. And that is a gift I could never have asked for five years ago!

What Gives?! :)

You know, it is interesting... I tend to think about writing this blog when I'm exercising. And that is great. Except that means that I'm never at a computer when I think of the topics I want to write about. And because I'm not at a computer then, I tend to forget when I AM behind a computer. Somehow, I guess I think the blog will write itself when I'm thinking about it. Apologies...it means you miss out, while I still benefit by thinking about it.
The last six weeks have been productive. The youth continue to amaze me. And there's a lot I could talk about. But instead of talking about "What gives", I really want to talk about "Who gives."
Lest you think that I manage TADD on my own - I have some amazing people in my corner. And so do the youth.
Linda has been on this amazing journey with me. She's been there since Day 1. In fact it was Linda who knew the "Four Fathers" (their words, not mine!) and let me start to try to get them to meet on Tuesday nights, when the police had Teen Night, which got canceled. I know the FourFathers didn't like it much in the beginning, they stuck with me. And I'm sure that I owe Linda for a good bit of that!
Linda has been through the ups and downs. She's been paid for her time. She's volunteered her time. She's propped me up when I needed it, and supported me. She's been there when I couldn't be. She's helped the young  folks through tough times. She's been there, celebrating with them, in good times. She's known many of these young folks since they were wee little things.
She's such an important piece of the puzzle. She was often the connection to The Board. She's kept me in the loop when decisions are being made. She's let me vent. She's told me when to stop.
But more than that, in these past 5 years, she's become my friend. And she gives.

One thing I shouldn't do: Sweat the small stuff

Some days, I admit that I forget why I do this work. I get caught up in the day-to-day drama. The background work, advocacy and politics of working with youth (because unfortunately, there's ALWAYS a something to address). I don't mind being protective. I don't mind doing all I can to make sure that the youth are given every opportunity to succeed. I don't mind working hard. I don't mind doing more than what's expected of me. I don't mind doing everything I can to make sure my job is done well.
But sometimes, it gets a little discouraging. When you work towards something, and work hard, but people make decisions that impact the work you're doing, the details can take over. And I can get caught up in those details, instead of focusing on the big picture. I can forget that, in the end, it is the one-on-one with the youth that matters.
But it seems as though, when I forget that, a little birdie comes flying in my window to remind me.
I got one of those reminders this week. We were sitting down with youth individually, talking about what some of their concerns were, what they liked, and gave them an opportunity to give the advisors some direct feedback - both positive and negative.
These meetings have really been important to me in the past years. It gives the youth a chance to talk one-on-one. It is a way to take away the peer pressure and group-think that may happen on occasion. It has also provided us with a chance to address any problem behaviors. I have to say, this last item has rarely happened, but when it has, the youth have really responded to it well.
With these latest round of meetings, I got hit, head on, with how important this team is to the youth. L, one of the wonderful youth, was overcome with emotion as she talked about how important the group is to her. How it has provided her with opportunities that she didn't imagine she'd have. That she looks forward to seeing how she can "Pay It Forward' in the future. That L is empowered that she can influence other young people, and watching her own progression in the team and growth as a person has really inspired her. She wants to share the cheer.
Waterworks, anyone? Really. This is what I forget. That the youth get more out of the team than just the quantifiable outcomes. That the bigger picture includes giving youth a safe space to be themselves. That there's so much more than just having a successful project.
But mostly, it is just important to remember that I shouldn't sweat the small stuff. That I need to keep my eye on the prize. And that just when I think: my work here is done. It isn't. There's always more to do.
And if I ever forget it, I just need to give L a call. She'll put me in my place.

January is National Mentoring Month

President Obama declared January National Mentoring Month. I'm stoked, because I think this is a highly under-valued role that we, as adults, play in our young people's lives.
To me, mentoring is an important not only because of the effect it can have on young people, but also because of how much I learn.
Mentoring is a way to keep in touch with what is going on in our young people's lives - their lives are so different than ours were when we were their age. The challenges they face are different, and so are their accomplishments. To understand how to advocate for our young people, and to help them become the best adults they can, we have to know where they are coming from and where they want to go.
I think we, as adults, are often intimidated by the idea of mentoring. But the great thing is, it can be whatever it needs to be. Is it just a conversation in a car while you're driving to a sporting event? Is it sharing a cup of hot cocoa after shoveling some walks together? Is it chatting about a new issue, or book or something else? It means having a conversation that helps develop the thinking process of a young person, but it also means listening to them.
I consider being a mentor, or a positive adult role model, as my number one responsibility. Working with teens, that isn't hard. It is the piece I admit I enjoy the most. And the dividends are enormous. Since the beginning of December, I've had a few conversations with different teens and other young adults about where they see themselves going, about their needs, about how I might be able to help them, or not. And most common response is: 'Thank you for being there - which to me is so amazing. To them, the fact that someone takes time to listen to them, to chat with them, to trouble-shoot with them, is the most important. That I can try to help find solutions to the problems or challenges is almost secondary.
If you would have told me five years ago, that I'd be mentoring these young folks, that I would love this as much as I do, I probably would have looked at you dumbfounded. I had no idea then. And, it is only because one person had enough faith in me to try this project, that I even figured that out.
It just so happens that that one person was also my mentor.