Everyone has something that they're hiding away in a deep dark closet.
This is not surprising. Human beings are naturally judgmental. The longer we live-the more we learn about what our flaws are-and-the consequence of revealing them.
So how long is appropriate to wait before releasing this deep dark closet of flaws on a friend/lover/roommate/co-worker??
I can speak from personal experience that it's deeply exposing to reveal things about your personality that are less than flattering! More than one person has run screaming the other direction and never looked back.
Not unlike most things we try to hide, flaws creep out at unexpected times... moments when you're run down/sick/nervous and frustrated. There's no grabbing it, throwing it back in the closet, giggling and saying "oh that... that was nothing...just forget that happened." Once the flaw's out, it's not forgotten.
Any thoughts internet readers?? Let's have a discussion.
Flaws are apart of what makes us who we are, and revealing them either alienates you from the other person or brings you both closer. We can either live with and accept someone for who they are... or say "sorry, that's a deal breaker."
What makes it worth it?
As much as the pain of rejection stings, the euphoria of being accepted for the things that you are most insecure about is one of the best feelings I have ever experienced. There's a sense of security in finding a person who isn't deterred by your deepest felt flaws. You can be sick and grumpy, tired and frustrated and they will still be there for you.
We're all flawed... but we don't all accept each other for who we are.
Most of the time I'm inspired to write by the beauty I find in everyday life and the beauty found in a moment.
I haven't been feeling very optimistic recently though. Being sick for a month will do that to you. Granted, it is my own fault for ignoring I was sick in the first place. I insisted on barreling through, and exhausting my immune system to the point where it had to revolt in rage.
For the past month I have been walking through life in a daze. Waking up everyday to a unfamiliar lethargic-ness, Shaking my head, slapping my face and getting through the day. I felt better for a day in mid-April. But I jumped the gun, went climbing/biking... who knows what else... in celebration and fell right back into the daze. Exactly 34 hours ago I woke up with an un-ignorable swollen throat.
My body had finally rebelled.
Thankfully my awesome housemate offered to drive me to the emergency health clinic. I had all of 2 seconds face time with a young, enthusiastic doctor who made sure I wasn't dying of pneumonia, before he prescribed me some strong antibiotics and established the importance of returning to the clinic if I didn't feel better in three days time.
Cost= $216 Time with doctor= 5 minutes Result= 7 days of swallowing powerful antibiotics.
I guess in the end the antibiotics are worth it, if they kill whatever is zapping all of my energy. I am ready to get back to being myself!
Everyday as we live our lives, whether knowingly or unknowingly, we plant thoughts in the minds of friends, new acquaintances, and co-workers. Our ideas nourish and support the opinions of like minded individuals, and expose spectators to new perceptions. Over time these interactions teach us, allow us to spread our leaves, and root ourselves in what resonates with us.
Like the growth of plants our roots search for nourishment in the world around us, and there are indeed different ways in which this happens. Plants have different sorts of roots, mostly classified into the tap or fibrous root categories. Tap roots have one main root that secures them securely to the earth, sending out weaker roots in search of more nutrients. Fibrous roots, on the other hand, send out multiple roots that grow in intricate patterns, equally strong and equally weak.
My root system is somewhere in between. It grows much like "quack grass." A fibrous weed that is highly adaptable and fast to mature. In the Northwest this common weed is a pain to get rid of, because it actually grows from the roots it puts down. The plants themselves are reincarnations of each other, every new one nourishing and supporting the other.
When pulled from the ground quack grass reminds me of a timeline. Here's where the plant was born, it went to primary school, traveled to other countries, went to college and started struggling to understand life without the support of it's parents. Each new experience brought it farther from it's beginning, but still connected it to it's original roots.
If you were to look at my life thus far, like the roots of a quack grass plant, you would see a timeline of experiences that affixes me to different places. In turn my experiences inform my perception of the world, and gives me new roots that support me as I continue on.
I feel so lucky to have experienced all that I have in just 25 short years of life. Now past root systems have lead me to the Northwest. The roots I have put down here connect me to many wonderful people, and allows me to explore new interests while expanding on some old ones.
Thank you to everyone who helped me celebrate being a quarter of a century year old during the week of March 23rd! I so appreciate you, and the great adventures we have been on. I am looking forward to finding out what happens in a new year of life.
This morning I was late leaving my house. I woke up late, lingered over my coffee and cereal before struggling into my bike clothes, boiling some eggs for lunch and rushing out the front door 15 minutes later than planned. I rode my normal bike route, cursing the southern wind hitting me in the face and loving the sun poking out from behind the clouds. I hit 50th street which runs parallel to the highway headed towards University district to catch Roosevelt down to Eastlake. Mid-way up 50th street I heard a faint "help" cut my mental discourse. I thought I hadn't heard anything, but decided to turn around anyways. When I glanced behind me I saw two feet hanging out from over the guard rail.
My heart jumped, I stashed my bike and ran across the road to find a girl trapped between a bed of blackberry bushes, her bike and the guard rail. She was obviously shaken. In a state of shock myself, I asked her what had happened and if she was ok. She explained that she had swerved (for what reason I don't know), hit the rail and fallen over. The way she had fallen looked almost like the blackberry bushes had grown over her in the short time she'd been stuck. First I struggled to get her bike free of her body and the spikey black berry prickers. Her bag was next before I finally helped her to pull herself free of the bushes clenched grip.
The whole process took about 10 minutes, during which time three cars passed us without stopping. To put this scene in perspective: I was standing on the edge of the road in a bright red jacket (which makes me pretty visible). The girl I was helping was completely trapped in back of the guard rail struggling to pull herself upright by using my weight. No one even rolled down their window to ask if we were ok. If I hadn't ridden my bike by, I don't know when she would have gotten help.
Fate- being where you're supposed to be, without realizing you are supposed to be there. I've spoken with people who believe whole heartedly that there are forces in the world that predestine certain events in our lives. I've also spoken with people who believe that it's a matter of mathematics. My love of fantasy and mystery bias me towards the more idealistic perspective. I like to think that things do happen for a reason... even if they can be measured by numbers, and that there are reasons we find ourselves in certain situations.
I'm glad I was late for work today. If I hadn't taken my time this morning, left late and turned my bike around to figure out if I heard someone say help... it might have been a long time before the biker freed herself (there's no real way to know). Matter of fact what if it hadn't been me that rode by but someone with headphones on who wouldn't have heard a yell for help.
Besides feeling that I was supposed to be on 50th to help this girl, I was disappointed that nobody else stopped to help us. Drivers, pedestrians, fellow bike commuters pay attention when you're out! If there are people on the side of the road who look like they're in trouble, take a few minutes to ask them if they need help. It just may be that you are supposed to be there.
side note: Considering my own recent bike accident, it felt good to give back and help another biker in need.
Adrenaline rushes aren't just bursts of energy during moments of crisis. They are not simply a fast and intense release of power to the muscles due to anxiety.
Most individuals who seek out adventures understand that this adrenaline can be sustained in outdoor activities that test you physically and mentally. In fact, I hypothesis that there is a method to releasing adrenaline.
The process starts with the approach.
The thrill of the unknown and the joy of discovering the new.
The approach is anticipation. It's leaving home, and taking the first steps towards the adventure on the horizon. There's an excitement to leaving what is familiar and safe. As you travel from home the complacency of everyday life becomes more unrecognizable, until you are separated from the comfortable and introduced to the unknown.
The approach is those initial fragmented steps that begin your journey. Walking from your front door to the car, watching the landscape as it changes from fields of gray and brown roofs, to fields of green grass scattered with farms.
Next comes the adventure.
The adventure is the uncertainty of arriving at an alien destination, and choosing to follow a new path.
It is the emotion for the experience that you are opening yourself up to.
The adventure acquaints you with new environments. It teaches you the excitement of being separated from normalcy, and allows you to expand your thought. Embracing the adventure with an open mind and a willingness to explore IS the adrenaline rush.
Finally comes the reflection.
Reflection is as equally important as the approach and the adventure. The moments after adventure and the surge of adrenaline, are when clarity is developed. I've pondered the importance of reflection in this blog before, and I still feel the same way. It is rare that we have time in the moment to piece together the importance of experiences, and only after they end that we are able to understand them.
Making connections between an experience and oneself, our perceptions and the world is the most addicting piece of adventure.
When you begin seeking risks to understand these connections you become an Adrenaline Junkie. You realize that the risks you take, connect you to experiences that few people have found. The adventure feels unique even though other people have most likely come before you.
I am addicted to the process as a whole. From the moment I step out my door on a day hike, ski, climbing adventure, or trip to the farmers market, I crave the adrenaline and the connection to new experiences.
I crave it so much that while I was waiting for my poor ankle to heal this past month, I still went hiking, skiing and climbing... with caution of course. Despite actively trying to injure myself again (sorry mom and dad), I am happy to say that my ankle is now healed!
2011 is starting out to be the year of injuries I've never had before. This might sound a little scary to some of you, but the reality is that I wouldn't be getting these injuries if I wasn't challenging myself and reaching to do the things I've never done. I actually see it as a good thing.
let me explain...
To balance all the time I spend thinking on my couch, I've gotten into habit of headed to the ski slope or day dreaming about rock climbing whenever I can. I invest a lot of time and thought into both of these hobbies, and both are hard to keep up without persistently nagging my friends to get out and have fun in the outdoors. So, to reduce the nagging, I finally took a leap and decided it would be worth it to get a membership to the climbing gym. My thought was that it would at least keep me busy until things dry out here in the emerald city. The universe had other plans.
Just one hour into my bouldering session (climbing without ropes) I went for a higher, but easier climb. I stepped up to the edge, crossed over the top... just a few more moves, one more move... damn. I looked down and realized how high I was - without a rope attached to me. Insecurity washed over me and my hands started to shake and get sweaty.
"I should down climb"
"I hate down climbing"
"I'll lose control if I don't move soon"
"I'll lose control if I do move"
"I'll jump.."
"this is going to hurt"
.... and it did!
Hitting the mat wasn't bad, but something had obviously gone wrong. My ankle didn't feel quite right, and I couldn't stop holding it and breathing heavily... I appeared much like a woman in labor. I breathed heavily in and out, trying to keep my focus concentrated on anything other than the pain I knew was coming. Sprained ankle... and not two hours after getting a gym membership for the month. In an effort to keep a little more active... I actually reduced my activity to zero. At least until my ankle is a little stronger.
We spend time relaxing with friends, sitting at home stuck indoors, learning new things about ourselves and the world around us, and on occasion doing truly constructive projects.
Where does it go?
I've noticed that with age time seems to fly by even faster. In elementary school time was measured by those coveted holiday vacations and dreaded school tests. Time stood still between Thanksgiving and Christmas as me and my sister waited to receive the presents we'd been asking for all year. During summer breaks time flew by while we played at the lake or struggled with adult emotions at summer camp.
In college time evened out and stayed at a steady speed for a while. I enjoyed the ride. There was so much to soak in and learn, both in and out of the classroom. The years went by filled with new ways of thinking, new people to discover, languages to learn and cultures to explore. The steady speed of time helped me to find out who I was, or a piece of who I am.
But, the last few years time has become extremely sporadic. One second I am throwing myself into projects I love, completely forgetting about time. The next minute I'm back on my couch struggling with the really difficult questions of time that everyone asks themselves as they grow up. Should I go back to school? Can I get a good job? Am I making the most of the time I have?
Time is the one consistent. No matter what else happens in life, time is the one thing that is guaranteed to keep speeding, walking... bumbling ahead. All we can do is try to make what we have count in the short blip we have in the relatively infinite time of the universe.
What is a season... What constitutes spring, summer, fall or winter?
It can't be summer if there's still snow on the ground and it's cold... or can it? And certainly if it's winter there can't be 100 degrees of heat outside...unless you live in the southern hemisphere...
Seasons are relative, and locational. To be honest, I think seasons are more feelings then the changes in the world around us. Take for example, this winter in Seattle. It is unusually snowy here in the city. For most Satellites the city in the winter is a gray, drizzly, rainy place. When it snows city dwellers hide in their homes, shut down their businesses, and run to REI for down coats while they wait to see if the snow goes away. What happens when the snow doesn't disappear you might ask... nothing good. The feelings associated with snow here are much different then the feelings I have as a long time east coaster, from a state where snow sticks on the ground for almost half the year!
So far this winter has been a comical, almost cartoonish experience! An inch of snow on the ground and the University of Washington shuts down, city roads are deserted and what cars are left are slipping and sliding around residential streets. Growing up in Vermont an inch of snow meant there was a foot more to come. It also meant time to break out the snow pants/boots/hat/gloves/wool socks and wool layers, because you were going to be walking to school!
For me winter is not the stress that comes with navigating freak snow storms. It's the mystery of snow falling on the ground and the way each little snowflake feels on your face as you build a snow man in your back yard or snow shoe through a dense maple tree forest. Winter is the warmth and comfort you get from drinking hot chocolate while sitting by a crackling orange fire with friends on long dark nights. It's the tingling sensation you get in your nose when it finally starts to thaw out, and that fully satisfied feeling that comes from seeing the ground completely coated in a white blanket.
My advice to Seattle: Be safe, forget the worrying and enjoy the experience of having cold and snow right in your own backyard.
What's the movie that came out a few years ago... with Catherine Zeta Jones, and Romance movie stud Tom Hanks?
You know, the one where Tom Hanks' character finds himself stuck in the airport after his home country has a coup and changes leadership. Oh yeah, The Terminal.
Well, I wasn't stuck in JFK and I wasn't in transit between two countries, but I was forced by United Airlines to spend the night in Chicago at O'hare International on my way from Vermont to Seattle. A wary word of advice to all travelers between the East coast and West coast- If you can afford to, spend the extra money and take a direct flight (at least during winter months).
Learn from my misfortune. When I arrived at the airport in Manchester on Dec. 29th I was endearingly optimistic. Earlier in the day I'd checked my flight to see that it was on time. Then full of nostalgia I pulled myself and two carry on bags from my childhood home and headed out with my mom towards the airport. It wasn't until 15 minutes after I'd arrived at the terminal that United announced that my flight would be delayed an hour, at least. Again, my optimism kicked in and I humbly asked the agent at the flight counter about my connecting flight in Chicago. He re-assured me that all flights going in and out of Chicago were experiencing delays and not to worry about my connection. Trouble sign #1....
My plane took off a hour and a half after its scheduled time, spent 20 extra minutes in the air circling O'hare until they were cleared to land, and then took 15 minutes to taxi to the gate. By the time I made it off my plane and jumped on a bus across the airport to my gate, my plane had been gone for 15 minutes... Trouble sign #2.....
My optimism stayed intact, although significantly diminished, while I struggled through lines of people to talk to a customer service representative (trouble sign #3). The United representatives were extremely overworked and had no sympathy. They informed me that they couldn't book me on a flight for another three days (January 1), and that they would not help me in anyway during my stay at the airport (thank you United...). When I finally... and embarrassingly... threw a small fit they finally told me that they could put me on standby for a flight leaving the next morning.
Normally I would have looked at this as another adventure, try to make the best of it, and move on. But for some reason this bump in the road took a toll on me. You could literally taste the bitterness of everyone stranded in O'hare. The United representatives weren't discrete about taking out their annoyance on the waylaid travelers either. Tired and frustrated, everyone left in transit to their final destinations desperately tried to secure the last seats on already full flights. The man at the counter next to me struggled with United as they explained that he would have to wait 9 days to get on a flight home. The next morning I spoke with a woman who took her dog out for a walk at 11:30pm, only to find that she couldn't get back through the security barrier for the rest of the night, and had to sleep just inside the airport doors.
In The Terminal Catherine Zeta Jones was compassionate to Tom Hanks, and helped him through his confusing and stressful JFK experience. My experience with the United airlines representatives was very different.
"It sounds like you had a protective shield keeping you safe"
After Thanksgiving my whole world changed... not unlike it has changed in the past. People, places, and certain events open your eyes to new emotions when you're least expecting. And I certainly didn't expect it to happen while riding my bike home from a full day of work downtown at REI on the Friday after Thanksgiving, Black Friday.
My family, and friends here in Seattle, know that I've been riding my bike the 4.5 miles to and from work. I inherited the bike from a Taiwanese man that I have never met. He was a previous tenant of the house where I'm renting. He worked at the University of Washington last year, and when he returned to Taiwan left his bike in the back yard.
When I moved here, after returning to Seattle, my landlord asked me if I could prepare the backyard/house for winter by stacking chairs and moving tools to the shed. In the process I discovered the beaten up, unloved mountain bike. At first I thought it wasn't so shabby. It carried me the 9 miles I ride daily and allowed me to get to the grocery store and out to dinner with friends. But there were, as with most abandoned bikes, problems. In this bike's case there were major problems with the brakes.
Working at REI has it's perks and I was able to take my sad bike into the bike shop and have the brakes tightened. I knew this was just a temporary fix, and I hoped it would last until I could buy/find myself a new mode of transportation. My hopes were thwarted on Black Friday, when coming home from work I was hit by a car.
Saying that, even writing that, feels like a confession. Nothing traumatic has ever happened to me before, and at the moment I realized a car was going to hit me all I could think about was the momentum of my body, and the surprisingly slow rate at which I was tilting towards the ground. Once I hit the ground, I was back up in two seconds. My bike was in my hands and I was checking the brakes. I didn't even occur to me to check myself.
A man walking on the side walk had seen the whole collision. He ran over, asking me how I was doing-if I was ok. Nothing really made sense and I said, "I'm more worried about my bike, the brakes are broken." His response was, "I can fix the bike, you I can't fix." I insisted I was fine and that my bike was what was broken. When I met the man who had hit me I said, "nice to meet you.... erm.... maybe not..." The whole event is mostly a blur. The whole time I just wanted it to be over.
Once I was on my own again, walking my bike the few blocks back to my house I broke down. I was physically fine, but what if I hadn't been. What if he had been driving faster... what if there had been cars behind me... who would know what happened and who would let my family know the fate of their daughter. Over the next few days I stewed over these thoughts, and then finally I decided to contact the driver. After a few conversations and an emotional coffee shop exchange, we agreed that he would compensate me with money towards a new bike.
It's been a few weeks since we resolved the accident. But I still ride around Seattle thinking every car might make a simple mistake that endangers me. Who will tell my family. It's cliche, but true. Life is spontaneous, and too short to be restrained from doing what you want to do.
The experiences of my last visit to Alaska still permeate my everyday reality. Anytime I hear Alaska mentioned I jump at the chance to reminisce about my time there and the beauty that is so hard to find anywhere else. The entire month of October I was in culture shock. After falling easily back into the intense routine of everyday life in Alaska, and driving for five days on the Alcan highway through some of the most remote country in the North America, arriving back in civilization with no home and no job was tough. A few gracious friends took me (disillusioned and struggling with modern amenities) in, and let me set up my tent on their back porch. They took me in even though they were dealing with bed bug scares and new house mates moving in! For this I am indebted to them.
As I once again dug into the challenge of re-acquainting myself with technological devices, I was able to secure a part-time position at the REI Seattle Flagship Store (2nd most popular tourist attraction in Seattle & rated one of the best place to find a date) working as a sales specialist in the men's clothing department. I also found a wonderful house in Greenlake just three blocks from my last Seattle home. There's even a vegetable garden to take care of out front!
Now I am fully assimilated back into lower 48 culture. But lately, because of a few interesting conversations and quotes from close friends, I have been thinking more about living in the present. Living in the present is tougher than you might think initially. It means letting go of worrying about the mistakes you made in the past, not worrying about the problems yet to come, and just letting the moments of your day sink in and happen without thought of consequence. I am so used to jumping from one place to the other and feeling the need to seek out my next adventure that I haven't been truly living in the present. I am finding that I have had a lot of amazing experiences over the past year or so, but because I've always been searching for the next job, or the next place, I haven't been able to sit back and appreciate the small moments.
So here's to the small moments and appreciating the things we take for granted. It's been suggested to me before, and now I think I am consciously going to attempt to listen. Put coffee in your oatmeal, boil it with the oats along with cinnamon, brown sugar and milk. Enjoy the sweat caffeinated experience-and mostly importantly- live the moment!
In my life I've had a few opportunities to visit places that I've loved and left. Leaving home for college and returning after graduation, visiting Cortona Italy with my family after high school and returning during my junior year of college study abroad, going back to DC for Obama's inauguration after graduating from George Washington University and currently my return to Calypso Farm to help with their fall field trips.
My first experiences in all of these places were ones of growth. Each place taught me about myself and the world around me. It is because of these initial moments that returning to these places feels like coming home. There is a familiarity with the culture, the surrounding environment, and old hang out spots. But in returning, I have found that I need to be aware of the changes that have happened since I left. Most times these changes are small, almost unnoticeable until looked at more closely.
These are the feelings I've been working through since arriving back at Calypso. Nevertheless the past few weeks in Alaska have been great. I have reconnected with the amazing Calypso community and hurtled myself back into the large, and sometimes hectic, field trip coordinating routine. The garden here is just past it's peak of production and large carrots, kale, potatoes, beets, lettuces, Brussels sprouts, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, zucchini, squash and more are being harvested. I am constantly amazed by the amount of produce and the variety of vegetables that can be grown together in one place.
I am also still learning new things about the Ester community. Last summer I discovered the gold mining operations in Ester gorge, and I saw the gold mining dredges. I knew that Ester had been founded by prospectors searching for gold during the gold rush. But last week, for the first time, I got to see a prospecting operation up close! Judy, a beloved Calypso volunteer, invited us to tour her husband's gold operation... right in their backyard! Judy and her husband are both retired from their full time jobs but her husband keeps busy following his own gold "vein" (as miners call the streaks of amethyst where gold can be found). The day we visited it was raining, but Bob brightened the dimness of the weather with his jovial explanation of how he found his "vein" and how one sorts through rocks and mud to pan for gold.
"you can't pan in the river, if you ever go panning in a river you know it's a fake operation. You gotta have a bin to catch anything that falls out. Then you can just re-pan instead of it flying off in the current."
Bob took us through the archeology of the site, how he found his vein, and the long... painstaking process of finding gold dust, gold nuggets and gold lines. He also explained how his operation is different from the big mining operations.
"if you're like the high school kids around here, you know that to pay for school all you have to do is go search through the old dredge piles."
Apparently, gold dredges are only built to sort for gold dust-anything bigger like a gold nugget the dredges toss out like a rock because nuggets are so rare to find. By running a small prospecting operation, Bob is able to catch all of the above.
As Fall rolls in and the trees change to yellow, I only have a month left in Alaska. I still don't know what will happen after I am done at Calypso. The uncertainty is exciting, but I am also fighting a slightly nervous feeling. I'll keep you all informed as I know more about my next steps.
Got Veg? New Holly Youth and Family P-Patch does...
I realize that there is a lot to catch you up on. Especially since I have now officially completed my 2009-10 AmeriCorps term, and I honestly don't know if I can catch up on everything that has happened over the past year on this blog. Never the less there is one thing that I do want to devote time to writing about.
Whether your family, friends or random internet reader interested in organic food and food systems, I think that you will be able to relate to this entry. In the United States there is a huge gap in youth education concerning where the food they consume comes from. I've read about cafeteria lunches consisting mostly of greasy pizzas popped in a microwave right before being served as that days hot lunch, accompanied by heated up frozen tatter tots that count as the lunch vegetable. I've also heard youth grown at the thought of eating a fresh garden carrot with a little dirt on it, stating they'd prefer to get their vegetables from the Safeway down the street (at least they're eating veggies). But statements like this blaringly highlight the evidence that there is a disconnect between American youth and the food they eat.
Yes. I know that these days I am preaching to the choir. there are literally hundreds of efforts across the U.S. to improve school lunches and connect youth to the environment. Despite these efforts, the bills that are being passed in Washington DC are not making big enough changes. Most recently I read an article about the newest bill entitled "Improving Nutrition for America's Children Act of 2010", which grants .6 cents more per child to healthier school lunches... (you can read more here http://edlabor.house.gov/blog/2010/06/improving-nutrition-for-americ.shtml). The bill also promises more access for students who are eligible for school lunch programs, and also justifies the small increase in funding by saying it is the first increase in 30 years. It's better than nothing, and probably will help students in the long run. But it is a very small step to solving a problem that has been growing for the last 50 years or more. If government continues to avoid solving the problems in youth nutrition that it has caused through supporting organizations like Mansanto and subsidizing crops that ultimately make us an obese nation, than we will definitely not meet the goals set by Michelle Obama's Task Force to reduce childhood obesity by 2020. Not to mention our youth will continue down their current path of becoming the first generation to dye before their parents (BIG DEAL!).
Ok. Now that I've had my rant, I can fill you in on what I've been doing to help the situation in the past year. As apart of my AmeriCorps direct service I provided garden classes to Vietnamese, Somali and Chinese youth on New Holly Neighborhood Campus in South Seattle. The area around New Holly is not a food desert, but a large majority of the families that rent there live below the poverty line. Primarily I worked with the Vietnamese Friendship Association to expose their k-6th afterschool students to organic gardening and fresh produce. Through garden activities I tried to help them understand the improtance of gardens to their environment.
In March I also began to organize a garden club at New Holly for Middle-High School students. I originally started the club as a way to connect older New Holly youth to the P-Patch program, but I also wanted it to be a safe place where youth could come to learn and share nutritious healthy meals. So, with the help of some of the other AmeriCorps in my program, everyother week we cooked dinners and on other weeks we worked in our P-Patch plot. The club was a success drawing over 20 youth to the New Holly Community Kitchen and P-Patch garden. We made dinners of stuffed red lentil/rice peppers, fried eggplant, kale chips, egg drop soup, stir-fry and spring rolls-just to name a few. We also fixed the New Holly Youth and Family P-Patch fence, planned and planted a garden, learned how to make compost and harvested veggies to use in our dinners! The youth who participated were amazing and really fun to work with. They came to meetings excited to cook and share meals. I learned a lot just from planning club meetings and interacting with the youth. To check out a video that was made about the club click here: http://pugetsoundoff.org/video/12312 and to check out some pictures click here: http://pugetsoundoff.org/image/11884, http://www.flickr.com/photos/seattleneighborhoods/sets/72157624421737421/.
It feels good knowing that even though government isn't moving fast enough in terms of food policy, there are still programs that allow people like me to make a small difference in youth education around food. In fact AmeriCorps programs such as AppleCorps are begining to pop up all around the country in the form of FoodCorps. Until the changes we need are made higher up I can only hope that AmeriCorps volunteers, nutritionists, gardeners and others in the food movement keep up their efforts to teach and expose students to healthy, fresh, nutritious food.
I wrote this letter to send to all the lovely people I've met in the P-Patch program over the past ten months. It's a good update on what I've been up to as well...
Hello all,
Time has certainly flown over the past ten months and I can hardly believe that I am headed into my last week of my 2009/2010 AmeriCorps year of service. I have enjoyed getting to know many of you during my time in the Department of Neighborhoods P-Patch program, and it is with a little sadness that I leave you. The P-Patch program has taught me about community and what that means in a garden setting, as well as the importance of passing that gardening knowledge to our youth. I leave P-Patch eager to help youth garden programs continue to grow in the city of Seattle.
Here are a couple of quick facts about what I accomplished this year: -Taught over 50 youth garden classes throughout Seattle -Provided 5 garden and food systems workshops to elementary-high school youth -Helped 4 new youth organizations find P-Patch Plots -Organized the first Gardening with Youth P-Patch Summit -Updated youth website and Listserv seasonally -Wrote 2 articles on youth garden activities for the P-Patch Post -Participated in numerous outreach events to spark youth interest in gardening -Completed new updated Youth Resource Binder - Helped connect 10 High School Service learners to projects in P-Patches
While I am leaving the Department of Neighborhoods P-Patch program, I am not leaving the gardening community. I will be headed back up to Alaska for a little over a month to help out the farm I worked on before coming here. Then I will be returning to Seattle in October. I hope to connect with many of you again in my future endeavors. If you would like to contact me before I leave please do so before August 6th. Otherwise please direct any questions to Kenya Fredie at Kenya.Fredie@seattle.gov and continue to check the P-Patch Youth webpage (http://www.seattle.gov/neighborhoods/ppatch/youth.htm) for garden updates.
Well I guess when you're living life and having fun time flies....
I have to apologize (yet again) for my absence over the past months. I really enjoy taking the time to write on this blog, but my life in Seattle has been so fast paced, in comparison to Alaska, that I haven't been able to take the time to write-never mind think about what I would like to write about!! But I hope I'm turning over yet another leaf...
About a month after I arrived in Seattle I moved into a house on the north side of Green Lake; an urban oasis for Seattlites urning for a natural setting during the week before taking off for rural adventures on the weekends. The house was nice and in a great location, but for me something was not right. I never felt completely comfortable living there, and I always seemed to have complaints. I didn't feel comfortable inviting people over and was hardly ever in the house. So recently, on a whim, I moved to a house on the East side of the lake.
It is funny how moving just a handful of blocks can make you so much happier! Since moving I have felt more at home in Seattle than ever before. I don't mind staying at home during the week, and have finally been able to allow myself to take up old hobbies again; such as spinning yarn, reading and WRITING! But most importantly taking pleasure in in the time it takes to do these things.
The people in my new house also make it much easier to stay at home. My old roommates were not bad people, but their choices in life hadn't taken them in the same directions that mine have. I often got annoyed with the lack of community in the house and felt I was paying a gross amount for other's energy consumption. I also found myself holding back constantly because I didn't want to be "that crazy hippie roommate" forcing the ideals of environmentalism down my roommates throats. To top it all off I tried desperately to avoid conversations with my roommate Bart who liked to argue with me about the benefits/pitfalls of a growing consumer culture. Sorry... this post is turning into a mantra.
My new roommates don't live exactly the way I do, but at least they share some of my basic life choices- like composting and seeking out fresh local food. these are two things that over the past couple of years have just become no brainers for me. Seattle, more than most cities encourage these lifestyle choices. There are almost daily farmers markets in different parts of the city, and a WEEKLY compost pickup. That's right! compost is picked up and processed by the city of Seattle and then sold back to resident gardeners... AMAZING! Therefore it was that much harder for me to sit in a house where nobody cared.. for six months.
Exploring rooming situations is only one of the growing experiences I've had over the past year. Working in the P-Patch community garden program here has nurtured and grown my love of gardening and interest in food culture.
Stay tuned for more from the Great North West!
ps. I am working on compiling a picture album to share all the amazing moments I've had here with you-and my garden!
"We're taught to buy things we don't need, to impress people who don't give a shit"
I'll discuss this quote in a little bit, because this post is going to be a jumble of events and experiences running all the way back to September when Ali came to visit me in Alaska. There is so much to catch you up on... including leaving Calypso, traveling down to Seattle, and beginning my new job as an AmeriCorps volunteer. These monumental events in my life have included no shortage of adventures and new experiences. In fact it may just have been the most action packed, at times stressful, emotional roller coaster I've ever been on.
September in Alaska was beautiful (I can't believe how far away it seems now). The dry summer lasted almost until it snowed. Ali's visit was full of crystal clear sunny days. We seized our opportunity to explore the back trails of Calypso, berry pick with Addie, Elsie, Kara and Judy, listen to some local music... and explore Denali National Park!! I could write a whole blog entry about our visit to Denali (otherwise known as Mt. McKinley or "the great one"). But there is so much more to fill you all in on that I will only write a little.
The day we went into the park was one of the last sunny days in central AK. The sun was out and played beautifully off of the mountain's vivid peaks and crevices. Each time we caught a glimpse of Denali I could only imagine the wonder that inspired so many native legends about the mountain before white men claimed it during the gold rush. It is well known that Denali is an elusive mountain to view. Our bus driver explained that only 30% of visitors to the park ever get to see her. Ali and I were beyond lucky; we had clear views of her ALL DAY! My favorite part of the trip into the park (and Ali might say differently) was our hike up the ridge at Eielson Visitor Center. After eating our amazing homemade peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, with carrots picked strait from the farm, we started our assent. It was only about a mile hike, but on a basically vertical trail. It was steep! But so worth the pain. At the top we could see, what felt like, clear across the park into the snow capped mountains. We were on top of the world. Seeing Denali was awing and inspiring. There are so few opportunities to see a place so natural, wild and beautiful these days and it was so special to be able to share it with one of the people I care most about.
Just a little under a month after Ali's visit I left Calypso Farm and Alaska... the catalyst event that caused the roller coaster I have been traveling on.
It is not that I am not enjoying Seattle. I have put a lot of thought into my conflicting feelings over the past few weeks, and this is what I've come up with. Calypso Farm taught me a lot about life and what it means to BE alive. For one, Calypso was an amazing community that seemed more true to the "real world" then anywhere else I have ever been. They live their lives for every moment, whether that be tending to the plants, taking the time to make meals from scratch, going on hiking, canoing or rock climbing adventures, and most importantly actually connecting to people. My experience there changed my whole perspective on what the "real world" is. When I left the farm I saw myself as returning to everyone else's life. It's a very odd feeling to REALLY SEE all of the shortcuts that people access everyday... me included. To try and rebel against that is tough, and it has been a constant battle for me to try and keep some of the habits I formed on the farm from disappearing. I also learned a lot of things about myself. My moral is that you can't jump into a six month internship on a remote organic farm without it affecting you deeply ;). I never thought in April when I arrived in Fairbanks that I would be continuing to work with agriculture and food. Yet here I am in Seattle, a place where you can garden year round, continuing to teach kids about food and gardens. This brings me to the quote at the top of this entry. We are taught to live in a world where material goods are the meaning of life. Where money rules who we are, what we eat and who we are allowed to be friends with. But is that really life? and is this really the way we should be living??
Calypso was a step removed from this "normalcy." Money didn't seem to matter as much because we were living off of the garden, and people traded for many other things. At farmers markets with other vendors it was not uncommon to trade some vegetables for a tart, tomatoes or some sort of sauce. We also traded with a yoga instructor who came to the farm every week to teach in exchange for vegetables. Anywhere else we would've just paid for these things without giving any consideration to exchanging our own talents for payment.
Well. that's my tangent. And I think with that said, I am going to have to leave the rest of this story for my next post. I'm looking forward to writing you all about my ferry ride to Seattle and getting settled here over the past three months!
I have also uploaded new pictures to my Picasa album! Take a look!!!
This blog entry is a little (or a lot) late in coming. I meant to write it directly after the end of the fair... but a bunch of other things have gotten in the way!
about.... a month ago the much anticipated State Fair started in Fairbanks. The fair was one of the events that I had heard about since I arrived at Calypso Farm. This year we were in charge of the Agricultural Hall-so there was a lot of preparation in the days leading up to it... and really during it as well. Those ten days I spent more time in Fairbanks then I have spent the entire time I have been here (about five months).
The state fair in Fairbanks is like a huge culmination of the year. One person I talked to described it as Christmas... without the cold and presents. It's just one of those times where you see everyone that you haven't seen since high school, or all the people you've lost touch with over the years. For me, it was more of a chance to get to see some of "Fairbanks culture."
Everyone goes to the fair... if not everyday, at least one day. They have the same rides and the same food... the same booths... but they do different entertainment and animal shows on all of the three stages. I personally spent a lot of time in the horse barns. They had outdoor stalls set up that you could wonder through and see the horses. Each stall was also labeled with a little description of the horse with their name, breed etc. There was also the petting zoo which Tom and Sus's girls liked to check out.
The other side of the fair was the glutenous smorgasbord of Deep fried, beer battered, powder sugar covered food! I tried to refrain from eating it as much as possible, but I did have some fried dough and a deep fried halibut pocket. If Cheryl (a calypso volunteer) hadn't been volunteering with me the majority of the time, and bringing me incredibly yummy pockets of dough filled with rice and beans, peas, stuffed cabbage leaves etc. I think I would have gained double my weight by the end of the fair! Most people I saw walked around touring the rides, which as is custom, consisted of the well named "fair"eswheel, death drop bungie ride... and other Topsy Turvy man made thrillers.
I might write about this culture as if I wasn't apart of it... but I definitely hopped on the fairiswheel with the girls, joined in eating the glutenous food... and even went up on stage to get hypnotized...
Yep, I did it, and for all of you skeptics out there.... IT WORKED! The first day of the fair I had unsuspectingly told the girls that I had always kind of wanted to get hypnotized... mistake 1. The next day I came in with them again and Tom had already picked out the hypnosis show on that days entertainment line up. I was stuck. So when it was show time I got up on stage... followed Mr. Hypnosis's (for lack of a better name) instructions.... and boom.... I was out. Well kinda. Throughout the show I kept falling in and out of hypnosis... and really it felt more like I was wide awake, just following his instructions and pretending to be a dog... or changing sexes. The farm still knows me as Brad... the man who likes woman who can hike. (hah!)
The highlight for me though, and I know that sounds wierd.., was when Mr. Hypnosis told us we were on the Jerry Springer show. His instructions were to make up as big of a lie as we could about somebody in the audience. Well... I thought about who was in the audience (pretty much the whole calypso staff) and decided on Tom.... my boss. When Mr. Hypnosis approached me he asked me... "who are you here for." -my response "my boss Tom..." (Tom started to hide behind his wife Sus) -Mr. Hypnosis "and... what's Tom's problem" -me "....He reads romance novels in the outhouse...." (hysterical laughing) -Mr. Hypnosis "is there anything you'd like to say to Tom" -me "That's JUST not the appropriate place"
After the show I approached Tom and all I had to do was look at him to send him into one of his frequent laughing attacks... which of course sent me into one as well.
There is so much more to write about in this post... I have a million stories to tell you all about the past month including Ali coming to visit. I am trying to upload pictures and I hope that they will be posted soon!!! In the meantime please hang in there, I only have two weeks left here!!!! ahhh... and then I am off to Seattle!! much love to everyone-especially those who have lost loved ones recently. I am thinking of all of you.
It has been an extremely dry, hot summer in Fairbanks. In fact we have gotten so little water that instead of watering the garden with runoff rain water we have had to call the fire department up numerous times and beg them to bring us some more water!!! At this point they've come up and sprayed water into our pond three or four times. They get a good deal out of it though. In exchange for water we bake them all the cookies they can eat =). From what I can gather a normal Fairbanks summer is not this dry. Normally it is hot and sunny through the end of June and then in July it starts to get wetter. Then august is even rainier and colder. By the end of August the leaves are turning yellow and falling from the trees! This normal summer cycle keeps the fires down, but this year we've been dealing with extreme smoke rolling into Fairbanks from the more than 60 fires in the surrounding areas.
The worst part for me is that the last few weeks of summer field trips were really slow because of the smoke. Two weeks ago I had four Pizza Making field trips scheduled for a group from the Fort Eielson base, but partly because of the smoke all but one field trip was canceled! Then This past week two field trips were canceled, including my last summer field trip. Granted the smoke was so thick on those days that I couldn't even see the upper garden from the resource center, which is right across the driveway. No kids or adults should be spending a lot of time outside in that kind of environment... even if it is part of the natural burn cycle of central Alaska.
Like many other things, I never knew that there is a whole section of the army devoted to fire control. These fire fighters are broken up into two groups, the hot shots and the smoke jumpers. Many of the staff, friends and share holders at Calypso have connections to people working in these positions. So I have learned a thing or two about them while I've been here. The smoke jumpers work from the air, dumping water onto the burning fires. The hot shots on the other hand, work on the ground in teams. They dig ditches to stop the fire, cut down trees etc. They dig ditches because forest fires can go underground and continue to burn through the long, cold Alaskan winter. Then when it gets dry at the end of spring the fires pop out in unexpected places.... you can see the danger in that I'm sure.
I have actually been staring at the fire alert board at the bottom of the hill all summer. Every time we drive past it to go into Fairbanks I look to see what the fire danger is for the day. At the beginning of the summer there were a lot of moderate days... but now almost every time I drive past it is EXTREME (written in black letters over red!). I anticipate that the danger will be going down now that we're getting into the end of August though. It is a known fact that the Alaska State Fair in Fairbanks always brings the rain, and this year is no exception.
Right before the Fair got underway last week it began to get colder. Then the day after Susan predicted that there would be no rain until it snowed... it of course rained. After a beautiful clear night, I woke up to pouring rain outside of Steve's house. It has been raining on and off since then. Normally the mornings are a bit rainy, it mellows out in the afternoon and then eventually clears. I actually like the rain here thus far. It's not too cold yet, and it is always so much fun to go wander the woods and see how different everything looks after it's been sprinkled with water.
more on the fair to come in my next post...
ps. I have a new job!!! At the end of September I will be taking off from Alaska down to Seattle where I'll be working as an Americorps in the Seattle Department of Neighborhoods P-Patches (aka community gardens)
I've joined the Fairbanks fad. I have become a house sitter... well at least until August 21 when Steve Kendel returns from Northern AK . It all happend quite fast actually. One of my Field Trip volunteers asked me about it when I randomely saw her at a small music festival in Ester a few weekends ago. When I caught a ride from her back up the hill, she offered to take me to Steve's to show me his place. The rest is history.
He has a gorgeous house that looks out over the rige line with one of the best views I've seen in Fairbanks so far! The access to running water, shower, bed sheets and radio, all of which I haven't had much access to since arriving at Calypso Farm, don't hurt either. House sitting also gives me my own space. I think I mentioned in a previous post that my sleeping space is also the intern public space... I am a very open person... but everyone gets grumpy sometimes.
House sitting here is pretty common. A lot of people take week trips to other parts of Alaska and need someone to take care of their animals or their plants. Both of the other interns on the farm have been commissioned to house sit for friends of the farm, and some of the school garden coordinators in downtown Fairbanks as well.
House sitting here is a little different from other house sitting jobs I've heard of. Sitters don't expect to be paid for their services. As long as they get a space to stay in for a little while and some food they are happy. My gig is actually a breeze compared to most. Steve only wants me to water his plants once a week for him. In return I get all the fresh raspberries I can eat and access to all his house appliances!!!!
The only slight glich so far was Steve's very sudden return last week!! On Tuesday he called the office and talked to Christie (Calypso Gardener), telling her to let me know his camp had been invaded by polar bears and that his group was coming back to Fairbanks to re-group. Later in the week I spoke with him, and found out there was actually much more to the experience than just the polar bear attack. Before the bear attack his group had actually survived a flip into the Artic Ocean, drifting onto shore and managing to set up one tent in blistering winds howling around them!! So, he just left again on Monday for his second attempt to set up camp....
On a lighter note, THE SQUIRELLS ARE GONE! For the past few weeks I have enjoyed chirp free mornings. It's a very beautiful thing =).
