Crafting Compassion and Circle Time

JV AmeriCorps member Erica Carmody shares stories and artwork from  her second grade classroom at the Mission Grade School in Hays, Montana.

Welcome to my classroom, home of second-grade smiles, laughter, questions, and the kind of growth and learning that needs a Big Sky to blossom. My class of eighteen is full of big hearts to match their big personalities (my class is also known as the Mountain Lion Clan, and they sure are cunning little ones). I’m blessed with a year of service here that has nurtured my experience as a teacher and as a life-long learner. I have learned so much from my students, especially how their culture, open-mindedness and creativity can be tended to in my teaching…

JV AmeriCorps member Erica Carmody

Martin Luther King Jr. Day brought many discussions and teachable moments to our classroom. While second graders crave an understanding of the world, they best reach their understanding through their own experiences and through their own lens. Peace, compassion, non-violence and civil rights are abstract ideas for second graders, but they are values that young ones can make their own if allowed to experience them, especially in a hands-on way so as to feel ownership over these values. Second grade dreams for people here on Fort Belknap emerged in lovely dreamcatchers, each unique, heartfelt and bursting with hope inspired by Dr. King.

One of the dreamcatchers made by a second grade student in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

The Mountain Lion Clan begins each day by sharing “high points/low points” with one another during circle time. As Valentine’s Day approached, many students shared that they were looking forward to the holiday, but on the flipside, their was some sadness or stress in their lives.

JV AmeriCorps member Erica Carmody and her second-graders in Hays, Montana

Celebrating Valentine’s Day, second grade decided, is a lot about candy and love, but how do we get and how do we give? When I proposed we make valentine’s for strangers to brighten up the town of Hays, they were overjoyed. After I laminated and hung up their posters around town, many of my students said the high point of their Valentine’s Day was seeing the poster he or she made decorating the town.

A Valentine's Day card made in Ms. Carmody's second-grade class

Sending much love, and Big Sky blossoming to all!

Serving with Presence

JV AmeriCorps member Miranda Hall shares her experience in the Extended Care Center in Anchorage, Alaska.

As a writer who holds a degree in Theater and English, it seems that the last place I might be qualified to work would be in the health care industry.

And, lamentably, there is some truth to that – six months into my year of service at Providence Extended Care Center in Anchorage, Alaska, my knowledge of meds, wheelchairs, nurses’ stations, and medical insurance is about as lacking as it was when I first arrived.

But somehow, medical jargon aside, my placement here has evolved into one of the most enriching,  astonishing, and purposeful experiences I could have ever imagined. It humbles, challenges, and changes me every day. And I could not be more grateful for what it has asked me to give.

Our facility is a place where people come for rehabilitation from accidents and operations, for long-term and end-of-life care. The population here is constantly evolving, and you never really know who you’ll be serving from week to week.

One of the over-arching challenges, however, which binds almost all of my residents together, is the intense vulnerability and isolation they endure. Loneliness is certainly one thing if you are secluded in a house or an apartment – the experience of being physically and emotionally isolated is a much more transparent condition when you are actually alone. And though the suffering can be tremendous, and the pain incredibly intense, at least it’s easier to identify.

Isolation becomes a completely different ball game when you are submerged in the constant hoi polloi of the hundreds of employees and other residents who spend their lives in your hallway. To suffer the disorientation of our bustling community while trying to account for the loss, separation, and disability that frequently define the experience of Extended Care is a painful and overwhelming experience. Often, I suspect, the depression, anxiety, loneliness, and grief it causes may be even more acute than in an experience of seclusion. I cannot imagine how hard it must be to live amongst so many people and still feel so forgotten.

And that’s where the JV AmeriCorps position comes in. And luckily for me, it has nothing to do with medicine.

I serve my residents by being with them – in the language of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, I offer a ministry of presence. I try to build meaningful relationships that infuse their lives with a sense of connection, friendship, and humor. I want them to feel valued and remembered – that they are significant, individual, and exceptional people. Because, to me, they are.

And it seems that there are limitless expressions of that desire to serve – I curl hair, I paint nails, I push people to the window to admire the Chugach mountains, I read fairy tales in the dementia ward, I spend hours singing karaoke, I rub backs, I hold hands, I tell jokes, I deliver crossword puzzles, I make phone calls to the aircraft mechanics’ union, I sit and listen to yodeling music, I read mail aloud, I try to explain where Baltimore is, I reminisce about Paris, I go on outings to Target and WalMart, I call the cable company, I add Splenda packet after Splenda packet to tiny cups of coffee, I take orders for the vending machine, I practice warding off wolverines, and mostly, through all of this, I spend hours and hours listening to stories. I’ve heard about chasing after roosters with machetes, downhill skiing in Japan at the age of 92, having a chamber pot dumped on your head when you’re trying to serenade your girlfriend, using your grandfather’s rifle to shoot your pants down from a tree, trekking 20 miles through the snow alone when your snow machine breaks down in a drift on the tundra.

There is something to me about telling stories that sparks a primal and urgent sense of connection. A joyful exchange, a gracious witnessing, a sense of being heard and valued. An audience of some kind – even a solo one – is sometimes the only thing we need to validate and dignify our worth as humans. It seems that there is an underlying belief in this ministry of presence that a story is a way of saying this is something that I’ve lived, and I’m not totally sure why it’s important, but because it can help us connect with each other, somehow, suddenly, it carries great meaning. As a writer, this is something that I’ve always believed. As a volunteer, it’s a conviction that my service validates daily.

I serve an amazing population of people. They are plumbers and vets and jewelry makers, hotel maids, homesteaders, dog trainers, and social workers. They are reformed go-go dancers and Harley Davidson fanatics, farmers, fishers, homemakers, and artists. They come from Cherokee country in rural Tennessee, from Paris, from Samoa, from Korea and the Philippines, from Detroit, from Vermont, Oklahoma, and Tacoma – they’ve lived their whole lives in Native Alaskan villages, survived the Holocaust, and shared drinks in Mexico with Marilyn Monroe.

Miranda takes a break to smile for the camera during her day at the Extended Care Center in Anchorage.

Not everyone here has the ability to talk, or to speak and understand English, and many of my residents suffer from diseases that distort their ability to remember things. But through my first six months of service here, and the opportunities I have had to be present, be patient, and encounter their stories, I have come to love them with such a fierce tenacity that sometimes it totally overwhelms me.

I can’t accurately predict the depth of resonance that this year will impart on the rest of my life. But I do know, as both an artist and a person, that it will be profound.

Surely, it already is.

Earlier this week, I was visiting with a woman in her eighties who lives in the dementia ward, and after about an hour of talking about horses and husbands, I said to her,

“K, you know, I love spending time with you, and I really love hearing your stories.”

And she looked at me, without looking at me, which is how she mostly encounters the world, and she said, “I love you, too. Don’t you know you’re like the sister that I never had?”

Of course, I choked up a little, especially because I know that she did have sisters. But the exchange confirms for me what I believe in the root of my being – that in my moments of encounter with my residents, there is nothing I would rather be doing than spending my time with them and their stories. I could not have predicted that I would find so much meaning and self-recognition in a place that is –  emotionally, logistically, physically, aesthetically – so foreign to the cultures in which I grew up. But I feel transformed by the patience, tenderness, and love that my service here requires of me, and by the grand expansion of my life to include so many dynamic, surprising, and complex relationships.

I may have no idea what I’m doing here, and I may have a lot of irrelevant training. But I couldn’t be gladder for the chance to do it – to live out my service, cherish it, and grow from the abundance of stories it brings.

I Never Ever Saw the Northern Lights

by JV AmeriCorps member Mark Murphy

It’s 3:00 AM in Lower Kalskag, Alaska. As JV AmeriCorps member Julie observed, the sky here looks like sprinkled salt crystals across a black velvet tablecloth. A turn to the north to marvel at the night’s spectacular aurora makes us forget the -20 degree ambient temperatures and even more biting wind chill. The sky is especially spectacular here, where there is no light pollution, and a rare, quiet stillness makes the sights all the more marvelous. Even more colorful than the Northern Lights are the stories that Neils, our 70-year old Yup’ik elder companion, is sharing with us as the artic winds whip into our lungs. Nights like this come only a few times in a lifetime. In the distance a faint sled headlight is starting to get closer. The sound of barking and panting dogs is soon to follow…

JV AmeriCorps members Julie Albert and Ryan Maloney volunteering as officials at the departure of a Kuskokwim 300 sled team

For its first blog entry, our community will share its recent service as checkpoint operators at the largest local dogsled race, beginning in Bethel, Alaska. Through the eyes of a subsistence hunter or fisherman from one of the 56 small native communities in the Yukon-Kusokwim Delta, Bethel is the hub, and never is Bethel more the center of the area’s activity than during the Kuskokwim 300 dogsled race. For the state’s fans and mushers, the K-300 is second only to the Iditarod in terms of prestige and anticipation. The race starts on the banks of the Kuskokwim and follows the river northeast before turning around beyond the Native Village of Aniak and ending up back in Bethel.

The frozen Kuskokwim River on New Year's Day

It is a tradition for Bethel JVs to volunteer at race checkpoints in one of two villages- Tuluksak and Lower Kalskag. JV AmeriCorps members Julie Albert, Ryan Maloney, Ryan O’Connell, and this blogger were blessed to work at the Kalskag race checkpoint for three days and two nights. The time there was a unique treat that few will know in their lives. The dog-mushers, locals, and longtime race officials were colorful characters, whose wisdom and humor help make this great race a vital part of the Bethel JV year.

The Mountains of Lower Kalskag

The trip started Friday morning on a bush plane. We took off with the rising sun and followed the river. Flying low in a full six-seat plane, we could see moose and snowmobile trails on the turbulent flight to Kalskag. As we got closer, the flat terrain gave way to mountains. Nestled between two hills and the banks of the river, the single-runway airfield greeted us for our first village trip. Bethel has its own aesthetic charm, but Kalskag is gorgeous. This village’s mountains and tall trees were a welcome departure from what we’re used to in flat, largely bare Bethel. We settled in to the village school that would be our home for the weekend, where we’d enjoy gracious and bountiful hospitality. Locals shared with us salmon, moose soup, and fry bread. The villagers made us feel at home, and we enjoyed their company for the hours before the race began.

Jamie, KC, Amber Lee, and members Christina and Elizabeth taking a break from checking mushers in from the Bogus Creek 150, one of the two races to come through Tuluksak

JV AmeriCorps members Christina, KC, and Elizabeth at 3:00 AM on the Kuskokwim River

The K-300 began at 6:30 PM back in Bethel. The radio broadcast of the start of the race carried the palpable excitement of the JVs’ temporary home all the way to Kalskag. Bethel is the place to be for the start in the finish, but was a blessing to be waiting right in the middle of the course for the dog teams to arrive. Attempted naps during the few hours between start time and the first team’s arrival in the middle of the night were aborted by anticipatory phone calls from K-300 headquarters.

“Are you all ready for the teams to come in? Only four more hours…”

“Do you remember how to reset the GPS trackers on the sled?”

“Y’all keeping warm?”

“Is there enough dog food out there? How about people food?”

A K- 300 team moving upriver past Lower Kalskag

The GPS trackers, attached to each sled, kept us from having to wait outside fruitlessly for hours in the bitter January night. The first team of fourteen beautiful, hungry dogs strolled in just after 4:00 AM. It was our job to direct mushers to their team’s food and straw, help them to their sleds’ parking spots for the night, assist with any dogs that couldn’t finish the race, and report to the mushing fans at headquarters the official arrival times and order. Luckily, we’d all had some experience helping out in dog yards around Bethel, so it was not our first exposure to this awesome sport.

2011 K300 Champion Paul Gebhardt leaving the Tuluksak check point at 6:30 AM

The mushers interact gracefully and diligently with their teams, who respond to the most subtle and quiet commands of the man behind the sled. These are not yapping house dogs, but well-trained, subsistence athletes who are born to run these snowy trails. This competitive field boasted several former Iditarod champions. We were hanging out with legends of the sport and not even knowing it at first. Our duties took us into Saturday afternoon, as teams arrived hours apart from each other and left after a mandatory six-hour layover in Kalskag. By the time the last outbound team left, the JVs were exhausted and had only a few hours before the leading teams would return for their inbound mush home. The downtime, though, was some of the most enjoyable hours of the trip. The wit and wisdom of one companion in particular made the cold bearable. Neils, the K-300 race marshal, shared with us stories of past races and life from decades yore in rural Alaska. His storytelling and gentility illustrated why elders are such a revered part of local Yup’ik culture.

After a long night of officiating, Christina and KC pose for a photo at 10:00 AM on the river, just in time to catch the Alaskan sunrise

Teams started passing through Kalskag again just after 8:00 Saturday night. Under a rare glimpse of the Northern Lights, the tiny glows of musher’s headlights became visible as they approached our checkpoint after more than 24 hours on the trail. By this time, the strongest teams had nearly solidified their places among the race’s top finishers. Mushers tired and dogs eager as ever, they left Kalskag for the stretch run of the race. When the last-place team left early Sunday morning, the four JVs looked at one another in a moment of shared awe. Even in our lethargic state, we recognized together that we’d shared a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We all agreed that no story could do justice to the truly blessed time we’d just had in Kalskag.

Christina, KC, Michael and Travis taking a mid day sledding break. Says JV AmeriCorps member Christina Polachi: "Sledding is always fun, no matter the size of the hill or if it is 50 below!"

It’s difficult to describe Western Alaska to someone who has never been here. We are not living in iconic, ‘postcard Alaska,’ nor is this area similar to indigenous reservations in the lower 48, but there is a unique beauty in the serenity and purity of the landscape. Yes, it gets cold in the winter, but not enough to make life unduly harsh or to dampen spirits. Poverty is rampant here, but a cultural richness of the area’s native population still prevails even amidst the last century’s Western influx. To say that the area is some kind of peaceful oasis completely bereft of the pressures of mainstream American life would grossly downplay the plight of locals whom the JVs work alongside every day. But there is a pace and delicacy to life here that makesBethela welcome escape from the bustle among which many of us have grown up. A JV year in Bethel is a special one and the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta is a unique place. Never is the privilege of serving as a Jesuit Volunteer in Bethel more apparent than during the Kuskokwim 300.

The Bethel community members around the kitchen table in their JVC Northwest home

Service on the Crow Reservation

Sarah Wurst, a JV AmeriCorps member and teacher at Pretty Eagle Academy shares her story of service in St. Xavier, Montana.

In southeastern Montana, in the heart of the Crow Indian Reservation, there is a tiny remote village called St. Xavier.  The greater St. Xavier area is home to approximately sixty people, one post office, two roadside vending machines, and Pretty Eagle Catholic Academy. This is the place where my three community members and I are living out our year of service through the Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest and AmeriCorps.

Jesuit Volunteer Sarah Wurst creates a sign for MLK Club: A Student Led Social Justice Organization at Pretty Eagle

Because of the relative novelty of our position, my fellow volunteers and I have experienced much flexibility in shaping our year of service.  This experience is grounded in the excitement of solidarity and justice and resonates deeply within us in a spirit of celebration and gratitude.

Jesuit Volunteer Donald Burton Speaks to the JV-founded MLK Club

Solidarity and Justice

The mission statement of Pretty Eagle seeks to uplift students “by providing quality education which embraces Native American culture, primarily the Northern Cheyenne and Crow Tribes, so that Native American individuals are empowered to attain self-sufficiency.”  This is the process we get to be involved in every day.  By affirming the positivity and beauty in the culture, we encourage the children to BE the leaders that they need in their lives.

Each of the four Jesuit Volunteers works in a position of Academic Support at Pretty Eagle.  We cover and fill wherever there is need for an extra set of hands and ears in the school. We are divided up by grade levels, teaching groups of advanced or lower level students.  Wherever there is a gap, it is addressed by a Jesuit Volunteer.

We have also been fortunate enough to expand our services outside of the classroom.  We have helped coach, organize culturally significant holiday programs, and volunteer at community feeds.  We have immersed ourselves into our new home, and found that we are often the ones who are learning and being served as much as the students of Pretty Eagle and the members of the community.

Jesuit Volunteer Janine Dilorenzo Tutors Two Third Graders

Celebration and Gratitude

The warmth and welcome that we have met at Pretty Eagle and from the Crow people is something for which we are truly thankful.  We have been invited over and over again to learn to see through the eyes of the reservation.

In November, the four of us were adopted into the Crow Clan System.  We all are now clan brothers and sisters to the very students we serve.  This is the highest honor that we, as volunteers, could imagine.

Grandmother Margaret Behan of the Northern Cheyenne Tribe and one of the Council of 13 International Indigenous Grandmothers said last week to myself and fellow volunteer Janine Dilorenzo,“Making adoptions, making relations is a way of making the world smaller, until everyone is family.  And it is all about family.”

Jesuit Volunteer Matt Hubbard Participates in a School Powwow, Doing a Traditional Crow “Push Dance”

I think that is as good of description for our service in St. Xavier as any: we have been building family.  It is with heartfelt gratitude that I sign off in the Crow way, by saying “Aho” to all of you.  “Aho” is a prudent and beautiful farewell, blending the meanings of “Amen”, “Bless you” and “Thank you.”

So, from all of us out in St. Xavier, AHO.

 

Hard Labor with a Smile

JV AmeriCorps members Darryl, Eddie, Amie, Cole, and Maggie above an ivy-infested hillside. Ivy is an invasive species in Oregon and prohibits the growth of native plants. The day of service was designed to rip up the ivy for future native plantings. Photo by Naivasha Dean.

The third-annual national MLK Day of Service was Monday, January 16th. In the spirit of the day, AmeriCorps programs all over the country participated in various public service days. Here, JV AmeriCorps member Cole Merkel shares his experience at the King Neighborhood Association’s day of service in Portland, Oregon.

When my JV community mates and I showed up at King Elementary School for an alternative day of service it was cold and gray but the weather was dry; not atypical for a January morning in Portland. The group’s energy, however, was warm and excited, a complete antithesis to the Northwest winter weather.

Our task for the Martin Luther King Day of National Service was to rip and pull weeds, ivy and other invasive species from a hillside at King Elementary School in Northeast Portland, which is also the site of a weekend farmer’s market. We dove straight in to the muscle intensive work of digging and dragging the overgrowth down the hillside, piling the cuttings in the parking lot to await a pickup truck to take clippings away. With thirty-five other individuals helping, it was amazing how quickly we cleared the hillside: just four hours of hard work reset it to a starting point, readying it for a new planting of native, easy-to-maintain species.

The author and his community member Eddie, both JV AmeriCorps members, pause to smile at the camera while chopping ivy roots. Photo by Naivasha Dean.

I was truly struck by the diversity of the community present to help in clean up the space. Along with the six JV AmeriCorps members (and one JVC Northwest staff member) who showed up, the individuals present ranged from elementary students and their parents to farmers market vendors and patrons and older individuals who live in the neighborhood. The spectrum of ages, skin colors and languages being spoken was awe-inspiring: a brief yet true distillation of Dr. King’s vision of the beloved community — all of us working together toward and achieving the same goal of beautifying a community space.

The one true battle of the service day involved my community mates Eddie, Maggie and me fighting to dislodge a thirty-five pound, three foot long ivy root from the ground. Balancing precariously on the hillside, with borrowed shovels and pickaxes we spent an hour and a half digging and dangerously swinging at the earth to dislodge the monster root wad from its underground lair. Pulling it up was the most satisfying moment of the day and absolutely makes up for our sore arms and backs.

Watch Cole and his fellow JVs in action here!

Finding Community at the Recovery Café

The Recovery Café in Seattle, WA provides holistic treatment to men and women living in transitional housing, shelters, or low-income housing who have experienced significant life trauma and struggle with a range of issues. Caitrin Coccoma, a second-year JV, serves as one of the Café Managers, and describes an experience at her placement.

Caitrin with James and Ritchie at the Recovery Café.

On a retreat during my first year in JVC Northwest, the facilitator posed a question to the group: what is it that you assume about those you will be serving this year? This is a question anyone embarking on any type of service should ask themselves. After all, when you are going to do ‘service’ you probably have some idea what the needs are of the people you will be serving. Do you see them as helpless? As being so desperate you are the only hope they have? And do you see your service as a one-sided relationship? That you are there to give but will receive nothing in return?

For my second year in JVC Northwest I wanted a position where I would be directly serving those who need help the most. To my delight, I was placed at the Recovery Café, an amazing organization where a community of people from all walks of life come together to support one another in their recovery journey. While the vast majority of our members struggle with addictions to drugs or alcohol, many also struggle with mental illnesses, homelessness, PTSD or just feeling broken from a life of difficulties. As one of the operations managers, I add to the services of the Café as my day combines the roles of chef, counselor, barista, concierge, mediator and motivational coach, allowing me to support both our members and the staff to make the café run more effectively. At any given moment I can be found helping in the kitchen to feed the hundreds who eat at the Café, sitting with a member as we discuss a personal struggle, or greeting those who walk in our front door. Every day is different. Every day is uniquely life-giving.

A few weeks ago I was given charge of the floor for the first time. This meant I was the person people went to for anything that might come up during the day. Everything started off really well. Lunch began with no problems and members had volunteered to help with dishes and clean up. It seemed like it would be a quiet day. About an hour after we opened, Susan, one of the Café’s members, came up to me in tears. She frantically explained that she had left her false teeth on her tray wrapped up in a napkin for safekeeping. When she had finished eating someone had taken Susan’s tray up for her and tossed everything in the trash and compost. Everything. A few moments later I found myself with a pair of gloves, staring into the compost bin at a disgusting mess of tossed food while simultaneously trying to calm Susan down, manage the back up of people all trying to throw away their leftovers and mentally prepare myself for the task ahead.

All of a sudden another member, Danny, popped his head around the corner. Danny was one of the first members I met when I started at the Café. He was an unabashed jokester who talked constantly about his destiny to be the greatest musician in history. While I knew little of his personal story, Danny had always been able to get me to laugh, especially if I was having a particularly difficult day. After sizing up the situation, Danny stepped to my side and offered to take the mess to the back and sift through it for me. I was shocked and relieved in more ways than I could count. I quickly handed over the bin and gloves to Danny and stepped back to allow him to work. After ten of the most nauseating minutes in my recent memory, the teeth were found, cleaned and returned to a tearful Susan who proceeded to hug and kiss Danny and me.

Danny’s selflessness is only one example of what goes on daily at the Café. In the few short months I have been here I have watched the people I expected to serve step up to give back to the community themselves. I have come to realize that despite my best intentions, I carried assumptions with me about the work and the people I would be ‘serving’ this year. From helping out with clean-up and prepping food to providing a listening ear for their fellow members, members here are just an integral part of why the Café works as well as it does. I am learning every day that the Café is a community that includes all the members, staff and volunteers. We depend upon each other to keep the doors open and the support going that is vital for recovery.

As the weather gets worse and with the economy the way it is today more and more people are going to be coming to our doors downtrodden from the hardships they face in life. Food and shelter are the physical needs that will draw them to Recovery Café, but it is the supportive and caring community that resides within its walls that will provide true nourishment. It is my privilege to be a small part of that community.

Farewell, 2010-2011 JVC Northwest AmeriCorps Members!

Today marks the last official day of service for the 2010-2011 year!

Goodbye from your AmeriCorps department, Clarissa and Thomas!

…until next year.  Which actually starts next month!

Who says making a difference can’t be fun?

2010-11 Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest AmeriCorps member Greg Hudson serves his community by planning recreational outings for recovering addicts.  Many clients at the residential drug treatment center where Greg serves have led difficult, hard bitten lives and don’t know how to enjoy themselves without turning to drugs and alcohol.  So Greg leads nature hikes, plays laser tag, attends sporting events – all to help his clients have a little fun!

The goal of the program where Greg serves is not only to treat drug addiction but also to help clients transition back into society.  Also, it’s a year-long treatment program – so the fact that Greg has committed to a year of service through Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest AmeriCorps means that he’ll be able to see the tremendous impact he’s having.  Greg also teaches a weekly employment skills class.

Synergy

Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest AmeriCorps member Chelsea O’Neil serves as an art studio assistant at REACH, an Alaska non-profit that offers a wide variety of services for adults with developmental disabilities.  Chelsea’s main role is to help artists with disabilities express themselves through their work.  Below, she writes about this unique service experience:

“Synergy was the title of the art exhibition of the first REACH artist to have a solo show here at the Canvas Community Art Studio and Gallery.  This artist experiences cerebral palsy, chronic seizures, developmental delays, and quadriplegia, but these diagnosed disabilities do not limit who he is as a person or artist.  This artist has a brilliant smile that lights up the studio. His enthusiasm for painting is inspirational.  His color choices and method of moving the paint across his canvas is attention-grabbing.  Synergy is defined as two or more things functioning together to produce a result not independently obtainable.  As an art assistant, I am simply a facilitator for the art experience. His work is completely his own.  Our hands work together to create a piece of artwork in his vision.  He makes choices in color and directs me to where he wants the paint to be placed on his canvas.  I live out the value of social justice by helping to provide choice and independence for artists who experience disabilities.  The gallery opening of Synergy drew a huge crowd who marveled over his art.  13 pieces hung at wheelchair height so the artist could admire his work. He had a smile on his face during the whole opening and I felt proud to be a part of the synergy.”

Serving Intentionally, Growing Professionally

Jesuit Volunteer Corps Northwest AmeriCorps helps members have an impact on the community, while also helping them create paths towards their own futures.  In addition to touching the lives of the marginalized and meeting the needs of the community throughout the Northwest, members get opportunities for professional growth that are hard to find in today’s economy!

Miles Griffin, for example, is serving as an educator and volunteer coordinator for the environmental non-profit SOLV. He writes: “Directly following my college graduation, I have been able to gain valuable learning opportunities in a teaching role and as a leader.  This is valuable to me as I intend to pursue a career in education.”

Christie Costello serves at the Domestic Violence Resource Center, where she’s been “coordinating the outreach program that previously didn’t have a dedicated staff member to run it,” she writes.  This gave her the opportunity to “strengthen many professional skills,” and to “implement creative ideas” to grow the program.

Serving as a case manager for homeless outreach organization HomePlate, Sean Fitzpatrick says that he’s, “developed solid skill sets for outreach and for serving as a resource to the community, particularly the homeless, runaway, and at-risk youth population.”

These AmeriCorps members are contributing their time and energy to the community — but they’re also learning, growing, and gaining marketable professional skills.