Work and Play in Chicago

This year I am working at St. Joseph’s Early Childhood development Center. I’m still getting a feel of the place and how they work, but so far I really like it. I get to play with kids all day! Last week they had me doing a bit of things around the school instead of being in the classroom, but sometimes I wonder why this is my particular placement. While it’s nice to be able to volunteer and help out the teachers, I sometimes felt like I was in the way. I had to have a background check for work but I’m guessing that because I’m not employed by Catholic Charities, I’m not allowed to be alone with the children. When there’s only one teacher and a child needs something that requires that teacher to leave the room, that said teacher has to get another teacher to watch her kids until said teacher returns. It would seem, at least to me, that they’re short-handed. And if they are, and I can’t help, it makes me feel like I’m someone else they have to watch or something. But that was the 1^st week. At the start of the 2^nd week, I was put in charge of more things to do around the school such as changing the bulletin board in the main hallway, running errands for different teachers and that sort of thing. There were times where I liked doing that more, but there were also times where I just wanted to go back and play with the kids! I do enjoy working with the kids, though. The age I'm working with ranges from 3-5. I didn't think I would like it, but I've learned that I like working with children who are old enough to see how far they can push things with you, but aren't old enough yet to question my authority. I still stand firmly on the belief that I don't have the maternal gene. My mother is a fantastic mother, who definitely taught me how to be a mother should that time ever come, but I don't know how much of my reluctance comes from personal feelings vs. generational mentality. Whether I become a mother someday or not, I still very much see a lot of my mother coming out in me when I'm at work with the kids. I even see some of the Newton genes coming out as well. When it rains or it's too cold to go outside, we have playtime in the gym. There, from time to time, I get to show my general knowledge of sports. Just the other day, I taught the kids how to dribble a basketball, hold a basketball and how to shoot it. Granted none of the balls went into the basket because they're too short (story of my life), but they seemed to have fun learning something new and trying it out. Reminded me of my Dad and Paternal Grandfather having been sports coaches themselves for a time.

 I was sitting in the bleachers. Of the 3 HRs that night, I didn't catch one!

 Me and one of my besties.

 View of the score board and below is Wrigley Field at it's finest.

 

Speaking of sports,these are photos from August 21, which was my first ever St. Louis Cardinals vs. Chicago Cubs baseball game. I can’t believe I actually got to go. I’m not going to lie, it took me a while to get excited about it and I don’t know why. This is my beloved rivalry! (Along with Mizzou and Kansas and Duke and UNC.) But it didn’t actually hit me that I was going until I started to see Cardinals fans on the train and it started to get me excited to see some of my people! That, maybe I wasn’t going to be sitting in the bleachers as the only Cardinals fan. I can’t explain the euphoric feeling that came over me being in Wrigley Field. Mind you its nothing like the pure joy and zen I get from bring in Busch Stadium (where I'm convinced Jesus has a summer house because it's so Heavenly), this was different. There’s something about being a die-hard fan of the visiting team in a rivalry game, sitting with friends you love and who love you, and having a Bud Light in an iconic baseball park that not only has been around for such a long time, but that movies have been filmed on, that makes one take a step back, take it all in, and think, “This is the good life”. The Cardinals won 6-2 that night and I felt blessed for the opportunity to go. (Thank you, Carol!)

 This first picture is of prayer candles strategically placed by previous people.

The second picture is of me praying to the Blessed Mother. While visiting this Grotto at the University of Notre Dame, I felt this strong connection to Her. Something that I had never felt before. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe the spirit of my Mema was with me with her hand on my shoulder, maybe it was the Blessed Mother herself, I don't know. But I do know it was incredibly moving, goosebump-y, and spiritually fulfilling. Very much a highlight of my retreat.

               To preface this blog, I want to make this clear: I am not a writer nor do I claim to be a writer. This blog is about my my year as a Volunteer. The fun I have, my living with 7 other people in community, the work I do, and, from time to time, my spiritual journey. If you are not religious or spiritual that is fine because I do realize that not everyone reading this is apart of my friends and family, but this is a Catholic based volunteer program, which is among a number of reasons why I chose this particular program.      

       

             I had always heard about this program from its director when she would come down to CCM every semester to talk about it and recruit people to join the program. It wasn’t until I saw it put into practice from one of my friends that I actually got a sense of what it was about. It was September and I kept saying that I wasn’t going to even make a guesstimate decision about a yes or no answer. I had been thinking about it and praying about it and one day while listening to Pandora on my computer I heard a song that completely spoke to me. It’s a song by Lady Antebellum called, “I was here”. When I heard the chorus sing out, “I wanna do something that matters, say something different, Something that sets the whole world on its ear. I wanna do something better with the time I’ve been given and I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life. Leave nothing less than something that says, ‘I was here’”.

              That was it. That was my clear cut sign that I was called to serve. Anyone who knows me knows that I am very musically oriented. Perhaps, at times, to the point of annoyance, but I believe with every fiber of my being that the gift of music was given to me by God through my parents. I believe God speaks to us and uses us through the gifts He bestows upon us. And for me, it’s through song.

                 I was the first new person to arrive. Kind of wish I would have waited a few more days because everyone was in the middle of saying goodbye. I HATE goodbyes. Hate them. I couldn’t stand seeing the SUV drive away and the thought of not seeing my sister (my Partner-in-Crime) or my dogs or my parents for almost 3 months. Everyone moves away from home. So a part of me thought that I should just get over it because it happens to everyone. I guess I couldn’t help it. 

            On Saturday they had a huge going away party for one of their housemates who wouldn't be returning for her 2nd year. (With this program you commit to 1 year with the option to do a 2nd year.) It was pretty emotional because she was/is kind of a big deal. Moving in early wasn’t my best idea. While the house was in the middle of saying their goodbyes to the 3 housemates that weren’t returning, I couldn’t help but feel like somewhat of a visitor. It’s not their fault that I felt out of place, by any means. Just kind of feeling like an outsider looking in on someone else’s bond with someone who is going to be very much missed. Now I know what my friend (and one of the housemates) meant and why he warned me about not expecting people to be too welcoming because I was going to be walking in on the housemate’s goodbyes, which, is a hard thing for anyone. 

               Something tells me I’m really going to like it here. The sounds of the city always appealed to me in the movies and now that I’m living in this concrete jungle, I find them somewhat alarming. It never fails, at all hours of the night and day I can hear people yelling, horns honking, stereos blaring with bass sound loud it sometimes rattles the windows. But I think working in the neighborhood as well as living in it, will give me not necessarily a better advantage, but a different kind of advantage than the other 1^st year volunteers. And I think it also will enrich my volunteer year more than I could have ever imagined it would. 

               The beginning of the year retreat was held at the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, IN. Being on retreat at Notre Dame was not only a “homecoming of sorts”, but also made me realize reasons of being here that I didn’t even know I had. I watched a video of people doing mission work all over the world and all for different reasons. One girl said, “It’s amazing what, through the grace of God, you’re able to do.” That really inspired me because not everyone really understands why I decided to move here to be a volunteer. They only thing they know is that the neighborhood is not the safest. Some people are supportive, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me to have those people’s kind and supportive words, but it seems that the ones who have negative opinions and or judgments seem to be speaking the loudest or least the most often. Without pointing fingers, I just want to say this: If you have questions, that's one thing. I'm happy to answer any questions you may have. But if you don't have anything supportive to say about my feeling called to serve, and my choice to live out of my comfort zone, in a place and neighborhood that you know nothing about, then please!! don't say anything at all. But I guess it’s only human nature to point out what we see as wrong or weird about others and judge what we don’t know or understand. I think what solidified my confidence in coming was when Fr. Tom McGann said,” Focus on the ministry and the people you will serve. See Christ in them. It's the will of the Father that you should seek. What is God asking of you, Janie Marie, at this time of your life? Let that be your priority.”    I knew I liked him!