The day began as normal with class, studying, and lots of reading, but when it was time to go to my project, I got an excited flutter in my stomach as I remembered that it was "graduation day" in Los Cuadros. Now in reality, the kids weren't actually graduating from anything; instead, we were just having a small ceremony to congratulate them on finishing their first three-month block of English classes. The "ceremony" would consist of a small presentation in which they would display to their peers and any other family or friends they wanted to invite what they have learned thus far, and then they would be handed their "diplomas."
When we arrived, there was a gitty buzz wafting through the air as the kids nervously and excitedly went over their scripted few lines of English, and found their seats in the room. We put the chairs in a huge circle, with family and friends on one side, and students on the other. I got a taste of what the students were feeling when I was asked, on the spot, to introduce myself, IN SPANISH, to the parents and let them know why I am here and what I am doing with their children. To tell you the truth, I am not sure whether I did okay or not, because I was so nervous I just blacked out and started talking; no one laughed or anything, though, so I guess that is a good sign.When the "presentations" began, I was absolutely blown away. Of course, precious, confident Marian set the bar high for the rest of her classmates when she went above and beyond what she was asked to do, and talked about how she wanted to learn English so that she could be a chef, and also help the people in Los Cuadros have better lives.
The rest of the kids' presentations varied from relatively poor, to average, to so overcome with anxiety that they couldn't even begin to portray how intelligent they truly are. There was one child in particular, Jose, who I am very fond of and who scored the highest of all of his classmates on the exam. When it was his turn to present, I truly thought I was going to have to peel him off the ground after watching him faint from fear. He stood up, began to talk, then with tears in his eyes turned to me and the main teacher and begged us to let him sit down and start again later. After two other boys went, he stood up and tried again, my heart ached for the child as I heard his voice quiver, his hands shaking, and could only imagine the out of control beat of his heart. It took me straight back to the days when my teacher would call my name, my face would turn bright red, the whole class would laugh, and I would want to curl up in a ball under my desk and never come out. In the end, Jose survived, just as I did as a child, and as much as it hurt me to see his fear, the feeling of accomplishment I could see in his face proved it was worth it in the end.
And then there was Carol, a picture of success for "El Niño y La Bola," who painted the perfect picture of the power of having someone believe in you. Carol was one of the girls when I began who refused to participate. She was too cool to do her homework, and too distracted to pay attention in class. We were told that she was one of eight children who lived in a two bedroom "home" that was made of scrap wood and metal, and that her actions and attitude were the result of an extremely unstable home environment. Therefore with this in mind, we just decided to love on her as best as we possibly could, ignoring any negativity that we got in return. And slowly, but surely, this little angel began to open up her heart to us, allowing herself to be vulnerable not only to build new relationships, but also to challenge herself to learn a new language. When she stood up to present, without a family member there to support her, I felt like a proud mother, watching her broken little bird finally learning to fly. She spoke with confidence and ease, and smiled with pride as she saw the looks of shock on our faces from the progress she had made. 
Yesterday was a great day, too. Internally, I was in a weird mood, I think just exhausted from a lack of sleep and all the flood of emotions that accompany my work on a day-to-day basis, but my project was great. I was asked by the teacher at my project to lead a two part "support group" type class during the normal two hour English class for two consecutive classes. The first was last Friday, and the second was yesterday. Though I have lot of experience doing such things, it was a very different experience having to lead this group in Spanish; it was a nice, yet scary challenge.
I spent hours last week trying to decide exactly how far I could push these 20-25 year olds, and what would be the most effective way to do it. After many drafts thrown away, I finally came up with a five part activity that I would split into two days. Friday, the first day, went great. I was overcome by how fulfilled I felt while integrating my love for therapy, for writing, for Spanish and for helping people all into one, meaningful activity. My heart was as full as it ever has been. I was amazed by how open most - of course not all - of the students were and how much they seemed to enjoy the exercises.
Yesterday, however, was a different story. It went well, I guess, but was without a doubt much more of a challenge for us all. I began by asking them to write about a person they really admire and why... What is it about that person that makes them a positive role model? What characteristics do they have that you would like to acquire, etc... When I got a room full of blank faces, and pretty much a refusal to write from the majority of them, I decided it would be best if we split into small groups to talk about it. I was with three students, another volunteer was with three students, and the head teacher was with four students, and together we walked through the process of discovering who we admire. The three in my group began with the claim that there was no one in their lives that they trusted, admired, or looked up to. They told me that everyone where they live only looks out for themselves and so therefore they have to do the same; my heart sank. I asked who they talk to or go to when they have a problem or are afraid, and they all told me no one, they just ignore it and it goes away. My heart shattered. After some prying and convincing, together, we came up with the qualities that some people in our lives have that we admire, and I felt good about it. The rest of the class finished in much of the same way. The next activity was also difficult for them to process, and if nothing else, it was a great learning experience for me as to how to work with people who have never before been asked how they feel, what they want, or what they value.
In the end, though I was a bit flustered and frustrated, feeling like I had prepared this activity for the wrong population, one of the girls said something that made my heart smile again. In English she told me that I was someone she admired because I was willing to share my own weaknesses, traumas, and flaws with them in order to help them, as well as grow alongside them. She told me she appreciated me for coming to help them, because I really was making a difference in their lives. She told me she was grateful she had someone like me to look up to.
Now, I am not sure I deserve all of that, but in all honestly, it felt amazing to hear. I don't need to be complimented, or praised, but I do need to feel like the exhaustion and hard work is doing even the SLIGHTEST bit of good in at least one life.
Today... I am content. Today... I feel like I am exactly where I need to be. Today... I feel incredibly blessed that God has placed me here and given me the resources that make me capable of doing what I am doing.
xoxo
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