A childs mind, like a sponge, absorbs it's immediate environment
good or bad, the home, media, and eventually the outside world
8 year old with head buried in a book and goldfish crackers
How will I be a positive influence today? How will I make it not about me or saving the world,but about bringing out the strengths and stimulating the child's mind to seek out answers and information to form new ones without instilling my own ideals or values? The project was a bead design and he decided to create a fish, the fish he was just eating. The second project he created was a gun that he would aim and play with. He spoke of how in the past people could argue verbally or physically, then spears, guns and now atomic bombs. I wonder when a child loses innocence, is it when they have learned these things or is it when permanence sets in, the cartoon inflicted with a gun shot wound that returns completely intact in the next scene will not have the same effect in real life. The final message we spoke about was how words can hurt just as much, if not more than a gun and how use of guns for protection most often results in inflicting the person that owns it rather than the actual initial thought out purpose. There was silence, a momentary flicker in his eye and our dialogue is a small part of an eventual formation of his own philosophy. Hopefully one that will adjust to the changing societal and environmental structures. I admit working with children is not my strong point, but it is a great challenge as I can also learn from the flexibility and openness of a child's creative mind.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Soup Kitchen Volunteer
St. Francis Xavier
January 31, 2010
Do you ever wonder where the bread goes once it has been removed from the grocery store? When the expiration date has arrived or is no longer “fresh” because it wasn’t made that day. My assigned task today was to slice bread and bagels and butter them in an assembly-like form in a soup kitchen. It’s about 17 degrees outside and I can’t help to think who will eat this bread once it’s buttered. Bread came in all forms, including one with the bottom that resembled the skin of an adult elephant perhaps its’ knee, and even tougher yet to slice through. I wonder, how much butter would I like on my bread if I were on the receiving end? Why is there no option for a plain roll or how much more expensive can it be to offer cream cheese instead. My assembly line partner that stands in front of me becomes more of a mechanical participant as we are overtaken by the repetitive actions of cutting, buttering and the drone flapping sound of two slices coming together. Occasionally, I look up to see less fortunate people sifting through the organized piles of free clothing and I wonder why I feel disgruntled when the bins at the stores I buy clothes are in disarray. We sometimes forget that we have choices and even when it seems there is no choice you can still make a decision. To eat the buttered bread or not, to volunteer or not, there is a choice. It is not a matter of feeling more fortunate because someone else may be less fortunate, it is not a matter of pity or sorrow. It is a call to action to set aside time from a daily routine, to disrupt it every once in a while for the sake of being a pebble to disturb the pond and have a ripple effect . It is an effect that begins with a slice of buttered bread and ends with the temporary satisfaction of someone else’s hunger so they can carry out their own daily routine and hopefully produce an effect of their own.
January 31, 2010
Do you ever wonder where the bread goes once it has been removed from the grocery store? When the expiration date has arrived or is no longer “fresh” because it wasn’t made that day. My assigned task today was to slice bread and bagels and butter them in an assembly-like form in a soup kitchen. It’s about 17 degrees outside and I can’t help to think who will eat this bread once it’s buttered. Bread came in all forms, including one with the bottom that resembled the skin of an adult elephant perhaps its’ knee, and even tougher yet to slice through. I wonder, how much butter would I like on my bread if I were on the receiving end? Why is there no option for a plain roll or how much more expensive can it be to offer cream cheese instead. My assembly line partner that stands in front of me becomes more of a mechanical participant as we are overtaken by the repetitive actions of cutting, buttering and the drone flapping sound of two slices coming together. Occasionally, I look up to see less fortunate people sifting through the organized piles of free clothing and I wonder why I feel disgruntled when the bins at the stores I buy clothes are in disarray. We sometimes forget that we have choices and even when it seems there is no choice you can still make a decision. To eat the buttered bread or not, to volunteer or not, there is a choice. It is not a matter of feeling more fortunate because someone else may be less fortunate, it is not a matter of pity or sorrow. It is a call to action to set aside time from a daily routine, to disrupt it every once in a while for the sake of being a pebble to disturb the pond and have a ripple effect . It is an effect that begins with a slice of buttered bread and ends with the temporary satisfaction of someone else’s hunger so they can carry out their own daily routine and hopefully produce an effect of their own.
Stroke Hospital Volunteer
Snow, Rain, Sunshine, Snow
Just as nature continues
Our body, part of nature continues
Functioning and Dysfunctioning
It is often taken for granted, the living and dying
When everyday you observe more sick and dying than living
On a stroke unit playing a board game
I wonder, what difference am I making?
At the end of the game, after he has won
He smiles and says how much fun he’s had
The card draws, the counting, the stories
The mind is reminded how to function and connect
When a human connection is made
And as you recount a story from your past
When your present memory fails
You feel the failures or the joys of that moment
Mentally, in an instant, you are rejuvenated
Just as nature continues
Our body, part of nature continues
Functioning and Dysfunctioning
It is often taken for granted, the living and dying
When everyday you observe more sick and dying than living
On a stroke unit playing a board game
I wonder, what difference am I making?
At the end of the game, after he has won
He smiles and says how much fun he’s had
The card draws, the counting, the stories
The mind is reminded how to function and connect
When a human connection is made
And as you recount a story from your past
When your present memory fails
You feel the failures or the joys of that moment
Mentally, in an instant, you are rejuvenated
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