Things We're Not Taught

     The list could go on forever. So much of what makes us individuals comes from things we learn outside the classroom. Yet, what we are not exposed to in the classroom can be a disadvantage. Today, the term 'disadvantaged' is often used in conjunction with 'youth', commonly referring to large groups of black and latino low-income families. Their disadvantage lies not in their color or household income, but rather the lack of education they've received.
     I had the privilege of working with such a group of about ten teens whom qualify for this label over the summer in Providence, RI at Goodwill Industries. My work as an AmeriCorps VISTA contributed to the education and betterment of this group. At YouthBuild, the goal is to strengthen both the character and skills of individuals. Most are high school dropouts seeking their GED or high school diploma and job skills. They all dropped out for their particular personal reasons, but generally (in my opinion) it is because with their life experience and knowledge they could not see the value of staying in school. Essentially, they didn't know what they were missing out on.
     Lacking the opportunity and encouragement to gain a college degree, my mother raised my brothers and I to value our intelligence and pursue whatever we chose. My father did the same, and with their combined support we all think we're the greatest thing on planet earth. Just kidding... but not really. My point is, I can in no possible way be considered a disadvantaged youth and yet, when I commenced reading about Armenia ( beginning with a book entitled "A Shameful Act" focusing on the genocide) I was embarrassed to realize I know jack shit about everything outside of Western Civilization.
     The Ottoman Empire. Sounds familiar, right? I, like many people, often pretend I know things that I truly only have a vague idea about. I've learned this is how to get people to like you by impressing them with your worldly knowledge. So, the Ottoman Empire, or the OTEP as in my new marble notebook, was a vast Muslim empire the offered it's protective services in exchange for taxes and discrimination. Non-muslims in the OTEP were treated much like black folks were in America after slavery. They were not equal, made to know and accept this, in return for some semblance of rights. The fall of the OTEP, and emergence of independent states resulted in the modern Middle East.
   
This was all news to me, about a week ago. A college graduate. Pathetic.
   
     Oh, the joy in finding a new reason to despise the Western Civ. program enforced upon all Providence College graduates! When unsupportive professors (because those are really the only ones I cared for) joked that the program was the "history of a bunch of dead, white men", they were spot on. It feels like my fellow classmates and I - in a time of war with Middle Eastern countries, no less- were robbed of a full education. Wouldn't it be beneficial for American youths to understand (or even begin to) that the Christian and Muslim communities have been at odds since the dawn of day? That Hitler was not the only man behind a genocide? Or that the British Empire wasn't the only wide spread Empire? It's almost like anything outside Western culture is deemed of no importance or influence in American public education. Well, that's gotten us really far, hasn't it?

Deadlines

     As previously mentioned, I'm quite the procrastinator. I hold my father fully responsible for this awful behavioral pattern. Just joshin'. He might've passed along the tendency but ultimately, it is I who decides to take forever to get things done.
     After receiving my invitation on (Halloween) Monday, I officially accepted and entered into the Peace Corps on Wednesday, November 2nd. I sent in an email and received a response later that day informing me I needed to send in my passport and visa applications (immediately) and write an aspiration statement to send to my country of service along with an updated resume. Even though the Peace Corps office has the second element of information on file, they need new, slightly different, copies for the Armenian office. 
     I was advised to send in these documents within ten days of invitation acceptance. I thought to myself, "I will start it over the weekend"... which happened to be my mother's birthday weekend. Instead of starting my aspiration statement, I ate, drank and lounged like the queen I often think I am. Not only was it my mother's birthday weekend, but a dear friend was home for the weekend. We hadn't seen one another in about a year, so I made sure to spend time with her as well. In a word, life caught up with me. 
     Since receiving my invitation, confirming my May departure date, I find that my thoughts do not focus on my service as much as they previously had. My time is spent working, reading and forever organizing my things in a way that I can easily pack up and go. Needless to say, I did not get around to starting my statement. In fact, it utterly and completely, slipped my mind. 
     Fast forward to the next Saturday afternoon: I am working, and an acquaintance asks "So, anything new with the Peace Corps?" and it hit me. "FUCK!! AM I PAST TEN DAYS?!?!" I checked my emails to confirm and in fact it was exactly the tenth day from receiving my invite. After work I grabbed my laptop, notebook, aspiration statement instructions and headed for Starb's.(There is a disappointing amount of coffee houses in the suburbs). I was able to get most of it done and around 6pm decided that it was not likely the email would be received until Monday morning. I also soothed my guilt and disappoint with myself, by reasoning that the 10 day deadline is really more for those individuals whom receive their invitations weeks (and not months) before their departure. 
     It was such a good feeling to be back in the mindset, thinking about my service, recalling why I decided to apply and what allowed me to continue my pursuit. Here is an excerpt:

     "As an American, I have been ingrained with a high degree of confidence in my identity; I am privileged and live a life of luxury. I choose to serve to challenge my comfort with this role.  While serving, I expect to meet this challenge with commitment and perseverance. Working with my Armenian counter part will certainly have its difficulties and I will constantly remember that I am there to serve Armenia and its culture – not my self; that compromise is key to any successful partnership. I am eager to begin working with someone whom I have no obvious commonalities. The greatest challenge whilst serving will be to gain the trust of my community members so that a successful partnership can be made. As a woman, I will need to adapt to the different role females play in Armenia. As a young person, I will need to be very respectful of the community elders and cultural norms. Overall, my strategy the first several months will be take in as much as possible and once I have a substantial amount of time and experience within the community, I will become a more active participant."

Fun Anecdote: I haven't had cable TV in close to two years (some would say I have been binging)and my new favorite show is American Horror Story. Sometimes, I need to fast forward through the scary parts, but I love a good thrill. While writing this post I was also watching the latest episode, and guess what?! There was an Armenian character! Loco shizz. I'm going to ignore the fact that he was a wealthy deusche.

You're Invited...

     A few hours after writing my last post, I came home from the gym to find my invitation on the kitchen counter. I was stunned. A small amount of fear began to seep into my chest and my heart rate increased. But, my 3 yr old niece was over so it was pertinent I play 'where is Soleil' prior to opening the packet. Oddly, I didn't have any sense of urgency but rather a reluctance to open the invitation. I think there are several reasons why, but most of them are unconscious; what I do know is that I was apprehensive about what assignment I'd been given. Would it be near a body of water? Am I leaving before Christmas? Is this something I still absolutely want to do? As adventurous as I am, the idea of leaving for a two full years is slightly disconcerting. Not that I feel the need to be surrounded by family and friends at all times - if anything 'alone time' is somewhat of a necessity in my life. Rather, it's the thought of coming home at 27 and having to start anew. 
     During the application process it is asked if there are any significant relationships that would prevent you from going abroad for two years. At the time there wasn't...now there is. My boyfriend and I have been together for just about three months. And when we met, it was with the understanding that both of us would be going overseas and neither wanted something serious. To make a long story short, we agreed to keep in contact after being together for only three weeks. He left for mobilization in Fort Hood at the end of August, then we got to spend a week together in New Mexico right before he was deployed. He's currently in Baghdad with shotty communication. 
     Most of my friends think I'm crazy to have knowingly started a relationship with Peace Corps around the corner. Military relationships are known to be difficult, with or without the other party also being abroad for an extended period of time. He has no idea when he will return. As conflicted as I am, I will not change my mind about serving in the Peace Corps. I know that it is the opportunity of a lifetime and I plan to seize it. And if you read the last post, you know how much I struggled to get this far. Yet, a part of me simply wants to stay home, find a steady job and wait for my boyfriend to come home. That's the romantic in me. The little girl that's been planning her wedding since learning what they were. 
That romantic also really wants to get a cat to call my own. 
     The practical part of me realizes that while life is short, the static of adulthood is lengthy. I believe that above all else emotional and spiritual growth should take precedence. When I use the term spiritual, I am referring to our connectivity with both one another and nature. Those moments you are able to slow time down while soaking in an experience, be it with someone else or whatever you are surrounded by. This is what I am seeking in the Peace Corps. 
     So, in May of 2012 I will depart to Armenia. I will learn to communicate in both Armenian and Russian. I'm really hoping to swim in the Black and Caspian Seas. But I really hope that when I get back there will be a boyfriend and (hypoallergenic) cat waiting for me.

The Weight

     These next 5 to 8 business days, while I await my assignment,  are going to be some of the longest of my life. It's been a long road thus far with lots of emotional ups and downs. With this blog, I'm not exactly sure (yet) how personal I want to get. My close friends know that there are few things which constitute as personal or 'private' information. My life experiences have taught me that (in most situations) honesty and openness bring only understanding and sympathy. Oddly, in American culture, many of us have been taught to deny sympathy - that having a person's sympathy deems you weak. My fascination with American culture, on an emotional level, is partly why I was drawn to serve in the Peace Corps.
     I grew up on the south shore of Long Island, New York in a town with a strong community. Proud Babylonians, we are. I was lucky enough to have two older brothers ahead of me in school, making me proud to be a Rodgers. "You know my big brothers, right? Yea, they play football, they're corner backs- ya know - the most athletic position on the team?". I excelled in my own areas as well, but I bragged about my big brothers to what I imagine was an annoying extent. Whatever. My close girlfriends and I have always agreed that above all else, growing up in Babylon gave us a real sense of identity. I realize now that our experience was not the same for everyone. That we came from stable homes and our greatest worries were about our clothes or what parties to go to. That if we did screw up, or get caught, the punishment would not be as harsh because we weren't 'problematic' for teachers and administration alike. Teachers liked, respected and favored us, and because of this we had a leg up when it came to getting into colleges. Teacher recommendations? No problem. Community Service hours? Duh.
     This bubble was burst pretty quickly upon arriving at Providence College. For the first time I was faced with actual conflict. The people I had once put so much trust and value in were beginning to feel foreign to me. My sense of identity was lost. I made friends with people who would distract me from the awful things I thought about myself. Even though I am not too far removed from my four years at Providence College, about 2.5 years, I couldn't be further from there. Sometimes I look back and am amazed at the fact that I managed to graduate on time, with a 3.2 considering what I was going through at the time. College was not a party for me, to say the least. I probably would have been in the Peace Corps earlier, but at the time I needed to focus on more pressing issues. I won't be so cliche as to say 'everything happens for a reason', but things certainly unfolded in a way that allowed me to be fully prepared for my upcoming challenge.
     As mentioned in my last post, it took quite a while to become medically cleared due to my own idiocy. That's partly true but more than anything else it was procrastination. Early in the application process it's asked whether or not you have sought mental health counseling. I answered yes. I could have answered no, because it never went through insurance (meaning it was not on my medical record). When my medical packet arrived it included a 6 page form to be filled out by my last counsellor. At this point it had been about a year and a half since I had last seen her. And as I said, I was already in a very different place emotionally.  Due to Providence College policy, on campus counselors are restricted from seeing non-students, even alumni. (A poor practice in my opinion). Essentially, she was unable to speak on behalf of my current status.
     The moment I saw her review my heart sank, I thought it was over. When I spoke to my medical assistant she informed me that this wasn't the end; that they would most likely ask that I get an updated review so that I may be fully cleared. I jumped on it and made an appointment through my PPO. For anyone who has been in counseling or tried it out (more so you folks), you know full well that some doctors just don't work for you. Their approach and practice is not one that helps. My original experience with counseling was not so, which is why it greatly benefitted me. The next time around, in the dead of winter (and we all remember how awful the snow was in New England) when all I wanted was to be at home soaking in a bath tub, I sat in a cold awkward disheveled  office of a woman whose first language wasn't English ( all that I am implying is there was a communication issue) and was made to feel that there was no hope. That my future was bleak because I would never be able "to cope with such trauma without professional help". It was a devastatingly huge set back for me. I wanted to cry but I punched a snow bank that ended up being a sheet of ice and not powder, instead.
     Thankfully, my family was fully aware of my past and was horrified, like me, of the language this particular counselor choose. My father decided he would take matters into his own hands ( yes, I am 'daddy's little girl'). We tried to get doctor recommendations from close friends and family hoping that whomever I saw would be more sensitive to my individual needs. Also, someone that would take all things into consideration - particularly, how badly I wanted this opportunity. Unfortunately, nothing worked out and by April I decided I needed to go back to the PPO and try again. Along came Dr. Silverstein (for anyone seeking counseling in the Boston/ Cambridge area I HIGHLY recommend her) and my hopes were reignited. After three sessions she gave me an amazing review and I felt a little closer to the finish line.


    I fought so hard to make it through this part. It forced me to readdress some lingering issues that I admit were things I wanted to put behind me in joining the Peace Corps. A lot of folks will assume that someone who willingly leaves their family and friends for two years, to a place that's not easily accessible, is trying to run away from something. Those folks are the same ones whom also share a dark history. And you know what? They're right, I did want to be removed from certain people and places that I feel will only keep me stuck in old, unhealthy habits. There is no shame in trying to move forward and beyond a painful experience. But there is a right and a wrong way to do so; and at first I was walking a path that was somewhere in between. What I realized is that the experiences which are so painful we'd rather forget them, are the ones that characterize who we are as people. More importantly, this same fact implies nothing about your character. It does not mean you are broken, damaged, unlovable or that you have something to hide. All that it means is you were altered by that experience and if you do deal with it appropriately- you will begin to heal. The healing process is a life long one and there will be set backs. I leave you with a quote from the novel Bitter In The Mouth by Monique Truong that spoke to me while I fought to get cleared:

Disappoint. When I saw the word written, I thought of it first and foremost as the combining or the collapsing together of the words 'disappear' and 'point', as in how something in us ceased to exist the moment someone let us down. Small children understood this better than adults, this irreparable diminution of the self that occurred at each instance. Large and small, of someone forgetting a promise, arriving late, losing interest, leaving too soon, and otherwise making us feel like a fool. That was why children, in the face of disappointments, large and small, were so quick to cry and scream, often throwing their bodies to the ground as if their tiny limbs were on fire. That was a good instinct. We, the adults or the survivors of our youth, traded in instinct for a societal norm. We stayed calm. We swallowed hurt. We forgave the infraction. We ignored that our skin was on fire. We became our own fools. Sometimes, when we were very successful, we forgot entirely the memory of the disappointment. The loss that resulted, of course, could not be undone. What was done was done. We just could no longer remember how we ended up with so much less of our selves. Why we expected nothing, why we deserved so little, and why we brought strangers into our lives to fill the void.

Any Day Now

     Well, here I go - my first blog post ever. In the time between first applying and now, with an official invitation traveling through the US postal system, I've vacillated between the idea of sharing a blog and simply keeping in contact with only close friends and family through email. Then, a few days ago I read the Peace Corps blog of an acquaintance from Providence College and decided there will probably be others in a similarly disconnected position, curious about what exactly we Peace Corps Volunteers are sticking our noses into.
     When discussing my decision to enter the Peace Corps, many folks balked at the 27 month commitment. At this point, it feels like I've been committed to serving for over a year. Since being nominated in August 2010, about 14 months ago, I have made most long term decisions based on the fact that I would (eventually) be leaving for a third world country. 
     I originally applied in June of  2010 and as mentioned, was later nominated in August. My recruiter told me to start booking doctors appointments to get the necessary clearance as soon as possible - as the process normally took 3 to 6 months. I assumed that my general good health would make it easy to get clearance. Oh, how naive I truly was. Due to my own idiocy and other complications, I was not medically cleared until mid-July 2011. Shortly after, I was sent an email informing me that due to all-around government budget cuts departure dates (like many other areas) would be affected. I was given little information about when I would hear next and was essentially told to sit tight. I finally received an email from the Placement Office in the last week of September, asking me follow-up questions that would simply update my file. Three weeks later (two days ago) I was notified that my invitation packet was in the mail.


And so it begins.