twenty four. The wandering travelers.

Living abroad means that you meet travelers often. I always ask them, "So why are you traveling?" and many times the response I get is, "to find myself- a bit of soul searching I suppose."

What I think I know more and more is that what we are actually looking for along the way is not to find ourselves, but to find the courage to be who we are; to cultivate happiness for ourselves, and maintain that for at least most of the time.

Who we are is within in us. It has been from day zero.
The core of us is love, I have seen it over and over when we are at our best, even from the "worst" of us. The rest is the bad habits we picked up along the way isn't it? The tools and reactions that are no longer useful for us but still stick if we allow them and YES- that puts US in the way of our own happiness.

So traveling for this purpose is unnecessary. Find the courage in that time and practice being yourself around strangers.

Travel to learn from others totally different from you....there you will find courage you never imagined.

twenty three. Thai Dad.

In the mornings at this Elephant Nature Park lots of things go on. The other morning in fact, I heard loud shuffling right outside our bathroom window. Surprisingly there was an elephant escapee eating the tree by our house while stepping on top of another, happy as can be. 

More normally however, the elephants wake up to their breakfast given to them by the Mahouts, and the dogs who are resting at the clinic stretch their legs. Volunteers come and walk each one of them allowing the stroll to wake them from their sleepy minds too. 

For a few hours a day, the road that leads to elephant park are scattered with dogs on leashes. Some people getting pulled, others doing the pulling from the stubborn muts who would rather sit in their cage all day then have a leash around their neck. 

It’s my favorite time of day not only because we are starting it by doing something for other beings, but because there is a sense of companionship that comes from being with those animals and not needing to say a word. During this time the park has a consistent quiet and calming fog. It’s one of the few times I find it very easy to just be without thinking or processing what’s going on around me. 

Dogs are inherently comforting, and this is a new lesson for me that I am grateful for.

Every day that I walk the dogs I see this man on his motorbike. In Thailand, this is not an uncommon thing as motorbikes are THE way everyone gets around regardless of age, class, or sex. However, this man was easier to notice as he always has a baby wrapped in blankets tied around this chest and he does not pass me just once, but several times.

Day after day, him and I smile at each other. Sometimes he would stop and raise the little baby's hand to greet me in the traditional Thai greeting “ Swa-dee Kup”. He is so warm, and I found myself looking forward to seeing him for the sense of connection he brought me even in such a foreign place. A reminder that humanity is giving in many ways if you are open to seeing it.

As I spent more and more of these walks enjoying the jungle around me and getting used to living at the park- I also got more time to observe him on his daily rides. One day I noticed him stopping many times. Every 50 meters at least and looking at something with his baby. He would slowly move up a little and suddenly stop again. 

Curious as I am most days I turned my dog (Bubba) to go the other direction and try and see what he was seeing. At the first stop I found a fat caterpillar hanging from his  string making his way back up to the tip tops of the tree. This caterpillar was green with tons of tiny little feet- quickly moving it’s body back and forth to get momentum for his long journey. I thought of how tired it was going to be when it finally reached the trees leaves that were so far away. 

I continued to follow the man, and the next stop was a pocket of flowers. These flowers you can find all over the area where we live. They smell more beautiful than any flower I have ever smelled. They gently drop from the trees and lay perfectly where they land leaving their colors are bright and symmetric no matter what time of day.

I followed him for a few more stops. Each stop, he seems to slow down finding beauty in nature and exploring the organic magnificence all around with the baby in his arms. You may be wondering why he was doing this and why he rides up and down the roads? I was. Was it simply to be curious about the world?

Finally, one day I was out longer than usual giving dogs walks since the clinic was short on volunteers. This time I got to see him finish his ride and pull into his house. I noticed the little baby sleeping as I walked closer to him. He smiled as always and put his fingers to his lips to say the baby was finally asleep. 

Every morning he did this ride with his child, to explore, to notice, and to be patient in providing that child with what it needed- even if for others it may seem far from convient. For the whole day,  I felt a little overwhelmed by the mans capacity for love. I myself even longed for that kind of patience and love from adults when I was a youth. I was inspired and reminded. 

I think many Dads never get enough credit for what they bring to the lives of their children. In South East Asia, and all over the world, I have seen so many Fathers (related or unrelated to the ones they protect and watch over) who build their children up every second they get. As myself and many of my friends are reaching 30 year old- we often discuss ideas of parenting and methods to creating a successful child. All of us thinking we have the best answer drawing mostly from how we were raised. Having a child seems scary for many of us? To be so incredibly  responsible for another being is maybe the most important things we will ever do.

With all my work with youth I often say, “ everyone should take a class before they procreate! It’s the most important job you will ever have!!” 

This man reminded me that good parenting, or any relationship for that matter, doesn’t need much outside of patience and awareness of what others need. We all need someone strong enough to ask us to slow down and notice things that nature gives us for free. Sometimes we need someone to drive up and down the roads of our life with us will we figure it out, or finally fall asleep in comforting arms till we can find the strength to try again.

I want to be more like this man in my daily activities and if I am ever a parent one day, it will not be the many books on child development I have studied the most that will guide my path, but his example I am lucky enough to observe in the mornings while I live at Elephant Nature Park. 

twenty two. Graduation Speech For Alex.

Hello! 


My fellow classmates and I know just how lucky we are to have had the opportunity to attend this school for the last two years together, one that is devoted to the service of others. We have traveled the world and worked throughout the dynamic state of Arkansas striving towards to reach goals that may perhaps create the conditions to move communities upwards, and than in turn, for individual lives that create everyday impact. In committing our studies to this work, we have learned that the service journey inherently also requires pushing ourselves in that direction as well. Needless to say, there are dozens of lessons that we have learned throughout our graduate experience, but there is one that I feel has seemed to headline for my class, the class of 2015.  It’s one that seems to be circling class conversation the last two weeks, the last two years really- and so I think it is important to pay attention too.


There are public service opportunities everywhere, but the most important ones have proven to be found in the everyday places that we naturally find ourselves standing within. For us at the Clinton School, it was the many people sitting beside us in desks placed in these beautiful new buildings built for learning and questioning and struggle.  As one brave and ever passionate professor (Dr. Singhal) constantly reminded us: Changing of the world can only begin with changing of yourself first, then family, then school and so on.


If I was honest about how I feel, I would say our class failed at this public service often for each other- myself included. Often times people felt left out, sad classmates didn't receive phone calls, people didn't put the effort in to find out why someone was avoiding another. We felt disjointed from one another, and unconnected many days. I do not say this in a negative a way.  Many reasons made for a dynamic class that was thoroughly committed to the service of others that happened outside of the school. Just not always or often enough for each other inside of it. It is in this "failing" or lack of perfection that we learn deeply. I have learned from this in so many ways and I am thankful for it. I also love each and everyone of my classmates more for walking through the last two years with me. 


Today, I am writing this blog about a shining example of someone who does do service everyday at the school. For the last two years I have watched him in the background living in a way that matches his ideals. Deeply caring for us, and feeling things with us. He is a man who works on himself first, than reaches out the others around him that further embraces that learning. Today, I wanted to point  him out. Alex Thomas, is the man who helped us all start here in August 2013 Director of Enrollment and Alumni Services. Alex is a quiet guy who does many things for the school in many ways-travels often, yet all of us know that he is there whether we see him day to day or not. I don’t think we realized this collectively until I was talking with classmates the other day about just how much he meant to ALL of us. We saw his service in the quotes he is was sending out individually to us at one time or another. Simple sentences intended to lift our spirits or to encourage us to press on. He knew all of us. 


The conversation about quotes spiraled into more actions he has done for many like never failing to push the send button to a beautifully crafted email on important days like calming our nerves while leaving for our IPSP’s, or reminding us to reconnect and share our stories with others when coming back from abroad. These emails had the magic of coming completely from his heart- encouraging us to live up to our best selves that he always seemed to see us as. Alex is one of those people who makes time for conversations, especially when we are sad, happy, missing home, finding it hard to find balance in a life a service, or worn down. I have never walked into his office when he has been "too busy." In fact, instead, he turns his chair, and insists I sit down. I never felt like I was wasting his time. I left his often feeling more full (more whole) having shared something authentically with someone I trusted. Alex asks us important questions that ensure we think deeply and he doesn’t judge the answer. 

Alex Thomas has helped us become more self-actualized people and done this through "smaller" everyday actions of intentional public service to this Clinton School Community. This is why I stand here today, on behalf of my class to thank him. So thank you Alex, for the actions listed above (my class and the many before me know there are many more to speak of). Thank you for reminding us that service can be accomplished anytime, anywhere, with whatever we have, and for whoever is around us. There is no doubt that your small acts have had great impact. It’s a practice of love, this everyday service. One that my class will take away working on mastering everyday.

These are the lessons that I hope never leave us as we move forward in hope.

twenty one. My social worker Joe.

I met Joe at church a few years back. He would bike there and his shaggy hair and big beard were things that made him not particularly stand out. What made him stand out was his smile. He seemed to be smirking always at this or that, finding joy in the interactions between the people that filled the pews.

I remember zoning out in church and closely watching his face from time to time. Waiting for his cheeks to be pushed up so high by his smile that his eyes would narrow.  His laugh would soon follow and never failed to be  faint; the sounds barely slipping out of his lips before he would push it back down again to his belly, waiting for a meal.

Joe and I have been through a lot. For the last three years we have seen each other through challenges and excitements.

It never really seemed to matter that Joe was homeless. He is one of those people you meet that gives you a feeling of joy after you take the time to spend time with him. He has never been a burden or a chore. He never asks for things unless he really needs it, he always says thank you, and when I am with Joe, I feel safe in mind, body and spirit.
We look after each other.

The first two years I went about our relationship as if I was his "social worker".  I insisted he call me when he needed help, and maybe subconsciously implied, "only then."
Traveling abroad taught me many things, but of the most important to this story is the fact that as soon as I take myself off the caretaker pedestal (I so quickly put myself on), the world seems to open more and relationships too in so many ways. It gives power to a relationship instead of power over one. Relationships with no score cards seem to offer me the deepest satisfaction these days.

Last week when I picked Joe up to grab some lunch, "Mexican food!!" was the craving of the day.
Afterwards, he needed a ride to go to the shelter I used to work at. Then mission: to retrieve his W2 to get some money for a new motorcycle and countless summer opportunities.

At the shelter we were running into old staff friends left and right. The executive director asked Joe how we knew each other and without even a one second delay Joe said, "Katy's my best friend."

I was taken aback. I smiled at him and later in the car I hit his arm with a sense of embarrassment. I could tell that his words had meaning.
When I asked him if he really thought that...he said of course. His face implied that this may be stupidest thing he has ever heard me say, but in the most gentle way- as Joe does.

After I dropped Joe off, I found myself pulled over on a side street.
I had always thought of taking care of Joe as one of my little projects, something that always made me feel good about myself. I thought of Joe as a part of my family, but one that I was including for the doing for "right" reasons. After all kindness was an action, wasn't it? What I didn't understand yet was that kindness does not need to be earned.

Now, suddenly what came rushing back to me were the million things Joe had done for me, for the reason that he simply is kind.

Joe always gives me the biggest hugs when he sees me.
He asks me hard questions about life, and love and reminds me as often as he can that I matter.
His emails to me (which is the way we communicate since he got his phone stolen while sleeping on the streets) are always signed, Love you.
When I was abroad it was Joe who checked in with me the most making sure I wasn't working too hard and encouraging me to find time to relax and sit in the sun with the "monkeys and lizards".
It was Joe who has spent several holidays with me when otherwise it would have been a lonesome day.
It is Joe who asks me if I am mad at him when he hasn't heard from me; he is not afraid of conflict between us, because working through it means more to him.
He reminds me that no matter how busy I am, work is no excuse to not make time for others.
I have shared more about my struggle with Joe than anyone else in Little Rock. More than anyone else in the last few years.
Joe knows me the best.

And in that moment in the car I realized that Joe was indeed my best friend too. Family for the right reasons.
I have had tears fill me up when talking to friends the last few months about leaving him to move abroad. A maybe forever thing. My other friends have family and people who notice when they are gone.
Joe does not.

What is very clear now is that my fear is not that Joe will have no one to look after him. The truth is I am worried that I will have no one to look after me.
It's a good thing I took myself off the caretaker role because I would have fallen a lot harder and hit an unforgiving ground had I not.

My professor said, this story reminded him of who is actually without "homes", who is actually homeless. Who actually lives and prisons and which ones of us are liberated?

Sometimes my failure to see reality over my ego takes away so much depth from the relationships around me.
I am glad I have spent more time with Joe since I have been home. Time spent for no other reason than to eat good food and talk about memories and future goals.
Joe always wants to move somewhere else- his plan now is Iowa.
My plan is to be in Thailand, and continue to define and do what I love. The world is insisting of nothing less.
I am leaving this place a better person, not because of my professors during the last few years at graduate school, or my work that is supposedly contributing to the world, but because of a homeless man.
You can call that man chronically homeless.
Or you can call him my social worker, brother, and heartfelt friend.

No matter what you call him, he matters to me more than I ever knew. I am lucky for that.

twenty. Jacina Beana.

Jacina is so different from me.

Besides the fact that she is now a whopping five years old, she is also the first little kid that I ever had the gift of watching grow from such a young age. She moved to Little Rock with her mamma to come stay with me; she was tiny. Now my memories of that time are so precious, they fill me up with thank you's. Those memories make me wish I had the power to go back there and live them again.
 High chairs and crawling, she has always been a mamma's girl. Always liked girls things like princesses and dresses and ballerinas and pink and purple objects that never really caught my eye.
She is smart and observant, telling me directions to places from when she was just over three.
She is sassy about what she wants, picky about what she eats, and stubborn when there are decisions to be made.
We love each other a whole lot.
She adds to my life in ways I can't explain. Hugs and laughter and exploration happen with her all the time since she is always willing to take walks with me for no good reason and get dirty for all the right reasons (her Mom would not agree).

She expects little of our time together. She asks great questions. There is no doubt that when we are together she wants to be no where else. She makes me feel valued without trying.
Jacina is such a good teacher. She gently reminds me when my phone is out too much: when I am not practicing presence.
She loves little things, like water balloons breaking on the ground, the hilariousness of Barbies stuck on the tops of trees in her back yard and unplanned time to play outside where there is something to explore at every minute.
When she leaned over to kiss me the other day during our Mary Poppins play- she reminded me that there is no time to wait for kisses.
....and when she was dancing to the music of the actors and ignoring the seat behind her for the whole play, she reminded me that we make our rules, and that the rules that make us comfortable and happy are usually not the ones written on the wall that most of us restrict ourselves too.
I want to be like Jacina's spirit more often than I am choosing to be like now in my adult world full of unattainable deadlines and self induced stress and "I am too busy for you."

Since been back to the USA,  I have been really intentional about slowing down when I am with her. I guess I have been spending time with her with the intention of treating her the way that she treats me in my actions and attentions. In doing that, I have learned.

The last few times we have hung out, she has been doing this beautiful thing.
Jacina Lee Foster (as she would call herself) has been asking strangers how they are doing. Coming from my shy little princess- it has been a brilliant example of courage I wouldn't have ever guessed from her. Then, if they respond to her (and sometimes they don't) she will say, "have a nice day."

This may seem silly. Insignificant.
But, it has been so powerful for me.
First of all, I can see the courage it takes her to ask. I watch as she looks at me after she spots someone. Next, she just blurts it out. "HOW ARE YOU?" Sometimes quiet, sometimes loud.

Second, I see the great reactions and how most often these strangers needed to be asked that specific day that specific question regardless of whether or not it came from a five year old.
They melt. Some kneel down, others tell me how cute she is....some walk away cause they were so wrapped up in their own thoughts they didn't hear her.
Every time is a lesson and every time, no matter what the reaction- she says " have a good day."

I ask her questions after those not so positive encounters like, "do you think they heard you?" Or "What do you think they are thinking about." Her answers are always intuitive, honest, and positive.
The last answer she gave me about a older woman who walked right past her was this: " I think she has to go pick up her baby from daycare and is late."

I talk to my classmates and friends for hours about how much we struggle just saying hi to someone, inviting someone to dinner, asking if you can come to a party. We blame others for not making us feel important, and it's hard to do the same for them. We grow up and let ego get in the way which is interesting isn't it?

I would argue Jacina is starting to struggle a little with ego too. It's the hesitation I see before she asks someone.
It's her courage we can learn from, and I do think it is courage on the deepest level. It's the lessons of intentional action and kindness.
It's the one I am learning from that sweet girl every time I get the gift of time with her.

nineteen. Chasing the Sun.

I have been waking up in the dark of the morning for this whole week. 

My bike has been leaning on the pillars of my front porch waiting out the stormy weather of winter. 

I figured today was the day that it was time to take it out, and go find the sunrise. 

Since I now live near the middle of the trail, I had to decide which way to go, and I opted for the direction I usually don’t take, since that would lead me right to the morning rays. 

A similar blog has been written one hundred times I am sure, how taking a new way showed me many new things- things I pass everyday in the confines of my car, but never notice. This narrative is true for me too and it’s always a good reminder the importance of risk, change, new things, un-comfortability. 

However, my lesson today was different. I went on this ride to see the sunrise. I intended to find the perfect spot on one of those bridges and breathe, breathe , breathe deeply. At that perfect spot I had big plans to let some thoughts drift away with the currents below in that big river I never spend enough time around. I just wanted to be lost for a minute and make my mind quiet down. 

I have no where to be this morning. I don’t have the opportunity to punch a clock or meet for coffee, yet I was racing to get somewhere. 

I realized I was afraid that if I didn’t get to that “perfect spot” soon enough, I may miss the sky begin to light up with pinks and oranges, but it was still dark. Of course I wouldn’t miss it, and when I did get there and watch this whole magnificent setting, soon the sun would rise and leave again till the next day. 

It’s the simplest noticing of this fear that I won’t make it in time, this fear that if I don’t get there- I will miss it, it will leave. 

Life passing by. 

Today, I was chasing the sunrise. 

Everyday, I chase many things. 

Especially these days. I am chasing a degree, I am chasing a certain date where I can jump on a plane to return to Thailand, I am chasing happiness, I am chasing sleep, I am chasing time to hoping that if I catch it it may slow down, or speed up. I am chasing love. Chasing…..

At that moment, I stopped my bike. I climbed off and I sat down. The sun came up and today the colors were breath taking. I wondered if the cars on all these bridges noticed it. I wondered what they were chasing and if they were chasing life too.

I sat for as long as my mind would allow me, and than got up to finish the 12 miles I had left. The mindset of “knock this out, shower, get to work- kick this days ass" set in. More chasing. But, as I find in so many moments in my life, the universe gently and lovingly pushed me to remain still for a little while longer. 

The trail was closed the long way, so I had to go back- and take the farthest bridge I never go to. This bridge is new to the city, and goes by my school and over the part of the river that is quiet and calm and this particular morning was full of layers of drifting fog. I slowed down the pace of my ride, recognizing (again, didn’t I just learn this lesson) my constant need to be moving fast enough, or in the right direction. I tried again and from a deep place I heard echoed, "take your time." 

This detour took me over by my school, and through Little Rock’s downtown that I spend so much time in, but yet somehow it feels foreign to me. 

More reminders of just how fast I move.

This whole time the sun was still rising. It really took it’s time today..or maybe I took mine. 

I am grateful beyond words for these gentle pushes from the world. I would much rather be pushed than continue to chase all these things that will come in their own time, at the perfect time.  

I read a blog recently called F*** Happiness, I want Freedom. It was about the ebs and flows that come with life. The ups and downs of this whole complicated journey. The author wanted sadness sometimes, and chaos once in awhile. She wanted madness, and extremely happy, and deep pain that we find in our hearts from love, and she was tired of always thinking about how she could be MORE happy. 

Maybe the trick is to stop thinking about it so much -which is hard for me since I often put "constantly happy" as the indicator of lots of personal growth and healthy relationships. 

But, I am wrong and I know it. 

Happiness comes and goes like all things, the beautiful sunrise I was able to be apart of today, included. Deep happiness comes from a place no can seem to find, but we all have.

I think we all have happiness and it’s not about running after it fast enough in efforts to catch it and make it your own. It’s about accepting and allowing. Don’t get me wrong folks this so hard to do. It requires massive amounts of self-love and authentic rebellion against the way the world teaches us to be. I am failing at it.

I want freedom too. 

I have a hunch that more bike rides for no good reason with no good goal will help me practice all of these things more. 

eighteen. Poor Schools, Poor Kids, Poor Health, Short lives.

It has become undeniably clear that business has intersected with almost every other social cause in the United States today. From politics, to education, to the organic food industry, the big business agenda is one that shoves its personal interests through the agendas (and betterment) of the masses. I am writing today about this collision, and more importantly the grave consequences for youth culture if our society continues to use money and selfishly motivated funders/donors as the compass for forward motion in these places (particularly in education) who support the unreachable and hollow and factory like procedures of No Child Left Behind and Race to The Top. In America, this compass to move forward should by guided by those who have spent their lives learning along students in the classrooms of this country; the teachers and youth workers who dedicate their lives to deeply understanding how to empower the new generation of thinkers for this democratic society. 

I will begin with a learning moment from last week. On Thursday, I sat crying for an hour after softly closing my laptop in surrender. My thoughts were fixed on a new research study (one that took all of my courage to finish) dissecting effects of the “privatization” (or big business) of foster homes in America. As an adult who lived a childhood with this fate, and one who finds herself constantly enveloped in the struggle for new laws, standards, and actions on a policy level to improve the current pathetic conditions for foster youth, the only option was to cry.  I think the world would be a better place if we all spent more time crying or at least noticing all of these blatant and obvious injustices we put on our children, especially poor children.  Even I, someone deeply committed to the cause, was unaware and uneducated about the mass scale of this privatization. This was some of the reason for my sadness, but most of it fell on the words in that study that repeatedly pointed to pain, the neglect, and the BIG money that became the impetus for “taking care of”  these children.  In the daily national news, headline after headline scripts stories of death, and abuse proving that we in fact are failing these children of any "care" at all. I would argue what’s worse is suffering through a childhood that is seemingly giving them no options, no hope, no love needed to develop a whole -hearted person leading to an incomplete life laden with continued suffering. If you feel as if my words are dramatic, research will lead you to the reality that there are many around you who are experiencing this right now- we simply do not ask or look do we? Myself included. Or, maybe it is that we intentionally look away because of the complexity behind all of this with the weak hopeful hearts that maybe they will pull themselves up by their bootstraps. I would ask you and I to think about why there are 72,000 invisible children in these privatized foster homes and in the USA (this is only a guess count for 8 states since still no one knows). These are the homes of children we are talking about where they learn and discover in every moment who they are. This space is sacred, yet we treat these foster homes as a fast food business on a shorten lunch break, and treat children as products sold to the lowest bidder.

The night before I had finished Why School? by the ever beautiful Mike Rose.  His words echoed the tone of the foster care article in describing the business we have also built behind children in this country surrounding the spaces where we educate them; our schools and in our classrooms. I say this so loudly, and with so much regret I beg you to listen one more time. We have used CHILDREN to BUILD BUSINESS IN THIS COUNTRY.  These are the learning spaces of our children, where they go to discover who they are in this ever- changing world around them in efforts to participate fully in it. This space is sacred, yet we treat it as a fast food business focusing on how efficiently to get them in and out and how much it will cost the people who are not even involved in the journey.

I realized quickly Why School and the article are connected in so many ways. The double bottom line is simply that this country is failing the majority of youth in the spaces they exist in. It became clear that in the past, part of my subconscious found some comfort in the fact that foster youth may at least have an opportunity to find love and the tools they need to grow whole at their schools and through incredible teachers that never get enough credit for their hard work.  Rose made this point over and over in his pages. The USA is failing teachers too by asking them to take relationships and experiential learning out of the classroom. After all, it only takes one positive adult or one teacher to change your life… I am a testament to that.  But, it is clear to me now that unfortunately these two arenas (home care for poor youth, and schooling) are in the same grim place. Both are falling short of  cultivating spaces where “we hear about intellect, aesthetics, joy, courage creativity, civility and understanding (Rose, Pg.29).”  It is exactly these components that are necessary to create a whole child, which is absolutely and directly tied to developing a better world for all of us. Instead, it is money and business (and tests, tests, tests) that run our schools like factories stripping the classrooms of these very important pieces.

Furthermore, these injustices are happening to a certain kind of student over and over. The ones who the elite suggest offer least to our society partially blamed on their lack of “education”: the poor. Poverty matters a whole lot. Rose talks about the increased pressures specifically for kids from poor neighborhoods down to the “tense navigation of walking from home to school.”  Now we can add the pressures at home. If you do the math-school kids, let’s say one who grows up in a foster home, a normal day  adds up to the following.

Tense navigation when you wake up.

Tense navigation through breakfast.

Tense navigation to school.

Tense navigation for the entire school day.

Tense navigation walking home from school.

Tense navigation for an entire night at home.

Tense navigation to fall asleep, stay asleep, and find rest.

What chance are we giving kids if every space where they are supposed to learn is now inhibiting them from doing just that?  What are chances for happiness or healthiness are we giving them if we do not find (or allow) joy here?  To bring this discourse one step further into a dark closet that would be easier to just shut, the ACE studies that came out in the 90’s proved a strong correlation between these “tense navigations” that they call ACE factors (Adverse Childhood Experiences) and life span. Not to anyone’s surprise, this research has been largely ignored. The ACE studies state that when we put kids in positions of increased high stress for sustained periods of time they are 4 times as likely to develop heart disease and cancer as adults=shorter life spans. 

Just to recap: We are not allowing children to live full childhoods while simultaneously decreasing the time they have to figure it out for themselves in their adulthood.

It is unexplainable, as well as unforgivable how purposely the world inhibits the youth culture. We allow minimal support and agency in these schools and home where youth are developing, once again because it is driven by matters of the pocket book rather then tackling the complexity of building inclusive, loving, and whole classrooms where kids come to learn and create themselves in the relevant context of  the world around them.

Is it at school that we hope to catch some of the gaps kids in more impoverished homes may be experiencing, but instead we are again shoving their pencils, their minds, and their chance for creating self esteem through discovery into tiny shallow boxes.  If you don’t fit or pass the test, you are not valued. You are NOT VALUED.

My hopeful end to this lies in the children. In ten years of my work I have discovered how little I know about youth. However, what is very clear is how resilient, smart,  and innovative every one of them are by nature. Especially kids who come from harder times. I know our youth can make it with very little and navigate their way through all of these challenges that we throw at them. I just wish we didn't make them. 

seventeen. Only Four Minutes

If you had to tell your life in four minutes what stories would you tell...why are those ones the important pieces?

Here I go, start the clock.

I was born to a middle class family and lived in that way till I was 10 or maybe it was 11. France was my last name back then and my brother and I earned every bruise we gave each other. My baby sister was born when I was in Kindergarden. I remember that day at school and I was so excited to meet her.

6 years later I was pushed into the foster care system in America, a place not so kind to many of the children that quite suddenly find themselves there. This is where my adventures begin. Moving from shacks to mansions, dark- skinned families to light skinned ones; at every turn I seemed to be hurled into dealing with conflict, anger, violence, sadness, change, beauty, connection, and a heightened awareness of others and systems moving all around me. I tried new things learning that you can only understand different cultures by doing what they do. By eating their foods, attending their churches, communicating in new ways, not being allowed to communicate at all sometimes. In my heart, I felt I failed to fit in so like a chameleon I became a master of disguise, and even through all the painful feelings that come with daily conflict- I pushed to continue to find MY path. Basketball player one day, class clown the next, I soon found myself on the other side of system- working with youth in a crisis shelters, attending college in efforts to become a better social worker then the 16 allotted to me. Ironically enough, college was the hardest time so far. Freedom brought reality. No one was around to tell me what “perfect” was anymore so every morning became a brutal  stand off between the mirror and myself. No expectations, no pretending, no subscribed family to ask when I needed some advice about a boy, or a career, or what to do about the overflowing dishwasher.

I still kept pushing, but I was no longer pushing to find my path anymore- it became clear I needed to find myself first.

I made it you know? I graduated. Oh, and I started to find myself, but only through others. I found myself while serving others and committing my life to youth work. I found myself in the conversations about holistically changing systems that always seemed to disregard the youth they were working for. I found myself looking at the world from a tall mountain of ignorance and listening to stories far different from mine, even if the cover of the book seemed the same. It became a game for me to push the statistics about kids like me so I traveled the world. I dove into the struggle of deep inner healing so I could be a healthy role model. I said yes especially when things made me scared. The fire in my belly keeps growing for travel, for love, for struggle. 

I moved to Denver and checked a dream off my list. I volunteered for my country and learned to trust woman again in AmeriCorps NCCC. I moved with this great guy to Arkansas where I worked to build new programs for homeless youth. There I learned about leadership and the power of voices from even the littlest people in our society. I had a dog, I left the boy, I drank too much sometimes. I found God again still there standing right beside me as she always had been. All those places I had traveled, all those years of looking and I finally had a sense of what a home felt like in Arkansas- especially since my sister and loving friend made the journey with me to the south.

I realized how instrumental my grandmothers deep love gave me courage when I was young.

I lost an Aunt. The one that made me feel apart of a family I never was apart of. I think about her all the time. Her laugh, the sound of a can opening,  and pink tubes of mascara remind me of her beautiful soul. I wish she hadn’t decided to leave so soon. 

My grandpa made me promise him I would go on with school after arguing with him for years that I wasn’t smart enough. His long battle with cancer finally was over and at the end of his life was a new beginning for me at the Clinton School. 

From there it’s just a whole lot of giant waves crashing through me with opportunity. I traveled to as many countries as I could exploring and spending 8 months in amazement. In awe really. It’s hard to put here what that time did for me. I still only am aware of a sliver of the lessons for my life. Gratitude.

What I learned most is that I am a amateur in most things. That we can always be doing more listening. That I am loved even as a flawed chick and that there is no need to try so hard to hide that. Humaneness. 

South East Asia became a warm place for me not only because of the foods, the traditions, the deep respect for others process- but also because it is there that I found my tribe. Design work and a team who pushes itself to be the best it can be personally and professionally is a gift and I try to treat it as such. I returned home and everything felt different. I felt different, and what I wanted before no longer made sense for me. I am still sorting through all of that. 

 Last semester at the Clinton School and back to Thailand. I have no idea how the rest of my life will go, but surrendering to that brings a strong calm.  

sixteen. David and Patrick.

Unapologetic David

Fearless Patrick.

Their big smiles entered my life a few years back when we collided on a mission to empower homeless youth to create a community of safety and meaning in an after -school program. Current high school students themselves, they brought their passion and knowledge of technology to the kids and pushed them to experiment with the power of expression not only for the little 5 year olds, but for the sassy 16 year olds alike. I think we all discovered through discussion today around our slices of pizza in a rusty old restaurant that this power only grows as we do.

It never fails that when I get the chance to spend time with these young men…I am slapped across the face with how much I have to learn from everyone around me. At times I can tell that they think I am “teaching” them, but I know they are always teaching me. I feel so lucky to learn from these two teachers.

Excited about the logistics of the new youth cooperative idea, Urban Sanctuary, David and Patrick spent time today asking some brilliant questions that pushed me to think deeper about what that place will become, why it will, how it will, and ultimately who it will impact.

Their reactional creativity sparked a fire in all of us that seems to be rising in our bellies in efforts to live our life’s in a constant ever- flowing space where we can create, dream, explore and work alongside people who allow us to be who we are: flawed and brave. This path seems to be lined with struggles. It's not easy or simple. It is the most important thing we may ever do.

As we were explaining these struggles that all of are finding in life right now, Patrick told us this story:

“Fleas can jump 150x their height. Which is really amazing in itself if you think about the biology behind it. They are born with this skill that not many other species have. They know they have it, and they just do it without thinking. However, if you put a flee in a mason jar….it will not stop jumping. It will keep trying for days and days. After two days though, even if you take the lid off, the flea will no longer jump 150x it’s height any longer. It can now only jump as high as the lid. I loved this story cause it so brilliantly explained to me the commonalties between the flee, and the human condition in all us.”

As I watched my young teacher share this lesson with us, I realized a few mason jars I have climbed into myself.  They come in the form of these thoughts that seem to creep in from time to time (sometimes screaming thoughts) that I cannot do something, or that I am not good enough for that….yet. Both David and Patrick shared similar ideas that they needed more time to be great at this or great at that.

I can’t help but think, “Aren’t we born, much like the flees, to jump as high as we would like just because we are innately pretty magnificent?” If you look at the biology alone! 

Maybe it is the cliché to say , you will do exactly what you say you will do. But, it is more then what we say, and even more then what we do. It comes down to what we think. All saying and doing follows.

I can’t help but write this blog with a sense of profound sadness. I think our society in America is one that is constantly forcing lids upon its youth, upon it’s woman, upon minorities, upon white men, upon everyone. These lids start with our education system as a whole, and seems to follow a long line of lids all the way to parenting, mentors who are too busy to build relationships, and leaves us in a unconnected sea of others scattering all around us: searching for their own self worth in never ending circles that somehow quickly become our everyday routines.

I feel like I have to rip lids off my thoughts everyday. Lids about my body, lids about my job, lids about my roles, lids about my feelings, lids about my past, lids about who I am “suppose” to be and who I am constantly becoming. I get exhausted from ripping all these lids off so often, and Patrick so perfectly explained to me why I have been a little worn out recently. In my life right now, there seems to be lots of constant ripping going on coupled with frustrations since I know I put some lids on myself . One could argue that I choose to leave some on from long ago too. One could argue I have created some lids just for me in efforts to not be as happy as I know I can be. Just as I put them on, one could argue I am the only one who can rip them off. 

I look forward to the time when I have less lids.

I have less now then ever so 'progress not perfection' is a good thing to strive for. I think fully understand 'progress not perfection' is healing in itself. Who invented that word "perfect" anyway. That's the world's most awful word.

I am getting exhausted from hitting the lids too, so I would assume that this exhaustion is a good sign- a push for change.

I want Urban Sanctuary to be an open mason jar with no lid. I want it to be, well I NEED it to be ,a place that provides warmth, family, community, love, struggle and discovery through endless searching- even if it means exhaustion sometimes.

Transformation runs deep and begins with our thoughts.