The weekend passed quickly (at least that's what I've concluded about it). I devoted most of Friday evening to recovering from bringing my roommate and her dog to the airport on Thursday at 5 in the morning, and on Saturday I went to a free class at REI, an outdoor store, in Fort Collins on women's snowshoeing, where I learned that I apparently have to spend about a trillion dollars to do this effectively. Not really, but it was starting to seem that way when the instructor finally moved on to the 3rd pair of pants you need to participate in the sport comfortably. Also, watch out for avalanches? I think that I will be doing this with a group.
I always find it difficult to filter through all of the information that I would like to write. Details seem (and I don't think this verb is so vague) key - I imagine them as seams that piece fabric together and disappear when it's complete.
I am reading a series of biographical essays on writers by the Spanish writer Javier Marias, who does a really nice job of finding and focusing on the "right" details. For example, when attempting to convey the writer Turgenenv's general absurdity, he describes how Tolstoy once saw Turgenev dance the can can and wrote in his diary: "Turgenev...the can can. Sad."
I went with the TIGHT corps to the Pawnee Buttes on Friday to try to get to know them better in a way other than making them take a test on their learning styles and filling out a survey. I imagine that it would be strange to climb up and down sandy rocks in the middle of nowhere with anyone, but I found it to be especially surreal with them. Since "society" seems to be such a pressing issue (being rejected from it or combating it), I felt that being away from it might change how they acted, at least briefly. But, still, I felt that some of them retained a need to be impressive, alternately cursing and rapping and grouping off. But someone did offer to help me out of a ravine and somebody else said, "Stop throwing rocks."
It's difficult to explain, but, with them generally, it seems often that the only way to communicate is through these short, disjointed exchanges and sarcasms that can end up feeling really pointless, although maybe eventually help you get to know someone better. But I find it rare to be able to hold a steady conversation with one crew member when a group is present. All of this is made more difficult by the fact that I find it frustrating to even deal very well with small talk, so being able to talk in such a scattered way feels pretty uncomfortable sometimes. But it seems important to try to adapt to people's patterns of language in order to communicate effectively, at least without picking up habits of violent swearing.
On that note, I have had some good conversations with individual crew members which has been encouraging. On Wednesday evening, before going to the airport, I talked with some of my roommate's fellow school psychology students and another fellow who is substitute teaching about some of these issues (getting people to care) and the obvious importance of getting to know students/youth/whoever individually in order to really engage them in whatever you're trying to get them to do. But, still, figuring out how to connect with anyone seems to be the hardest though most interesting thing.
This week I also finally met up with Aunt Jo Ann's friend, Rhonda, and we learned that we have a lot in common, from running to international education to mental health. I may get the opportunity to work with her in developing her recently founded non-profit focused on building schools in south Sudan, which I think would be pretty fascinating and relevant.
I feel that I meet so many new people through my job and find myself in so many different situations, like asking a mural painter who is also a freelance dancer to help out with a service project, asking another mural painter to talk about the philosophy behind his art, and asking multiple people their opinions on newsletters and volunteer recruitment that I am compelled to turn myself inside out and at least pretend to be an extrovert. (Though I still need to take the Myers Briggs test to validate this.) It's tiring, and interesting. I will be glad to be home for a while, and away from asking people such specific questions.
This whole entry is very, very interesting and I am anxious to hear more about your work when you come to Baton Rouge. But I will have to admit that your meeting Rhonda is the most exciting to me. You remind me so much of her when she was your age!
ReplyDelete