Over the course of this summer and my internship at Erie House, one thing has became ever more clear to me each time I wake up and head to work: any number of individually insignificant factors can decide whether or not it’ll feel like a good day. For example, it could be cloudy but not raining, my bus is on time, and I have an extra minute to grab coffee before I clock in. That’s already a good day. Just as much, if it’s raining without an umbrella, both of my bus rides get delayed, and I have to show up twenty minutes late, that’s kind of a rough start.

Any one of those single elements shouldn’t be enough to make or break a day, but taken together, they pile up quickly. And, of course, that’s just the first hour or two of your standard weekday. If you’re in the habit of noticing things, there will be more of these little factors than a reasonable person would even try to count. So, that begs the question: What do you do when every single part of your otherwise normal day seems to be going wrong?

I suppose you just have to do your best. There’s not much else that can be done. 

Whatever you have to do that day, just try to do it well. Enjoy the help of who’s with you. If you’re going solo, just focus on your surroundings, thinking as much as you can about whatever catches your eye (if it’s not something good, keep looking). Eventually, the object of your frustration will only become a smaller part of an otherwise normal day. Maybe something better or worse will happen later, but that’s not happening in the moment.

• by Lucas Lennen, Erie Neighborhood House

Photo credit: Shirley Heinze Land Trust

As my internship continues, I continue looking for a purpose big enough to dominate my life. I’ve always loved reading and since childhood, narratives of grand proportions filled my head, so much so that I’ve come to expect my purpose to be similar to the same characters that had
populated my life. Frequently I find myself looking for a purpose big enough to dominate my own life or appear on some metaphorical horizon. I had expected to see something like a summer thunderhead marching across the sky, or maybe something far away but with a promise of grandeur like the Chicago skyline as seen from the Indiana Dunes National Park.

This summer, and especially the CAPS internship has set my mind on a future that I am
typically happy to ignore. My previous blog post mainly talked about my refusal to truly think
about vocation in a real sense, but I’ve realized that I have been expecting a lot out of myself
unconsciously. That looming purpose, I now realize, was meant to be just that, looming and out
of reach. An imposing storm front that would never rain, and a city that would always be
shrouded in mist. A thing that is always there to look at and admire, but I could never touch the
clouds, or wander the far away city. To be honest, I’m a little disappointed in myself as I have
always left the infinite to others, and to the realm of impossibility for me.

As I considered the issue more, I realized that I associate that huge imposing cloud with works
and people who I admire the most, but don’t personally know and probably do not entirely
understand. Things and people who have pointed to or embodied something bigger than myself.
Therefore, I cannot or will not attempt to reach it. Unfortunately, the irony of this situation was
lost to me until I relatively recently. By separating myself from these big things I’ve also made
myself relatively isolated, and less able to connect with the immediate things which populate my
life. I’ve also denied myself the opportunity to grow or stretch beyond my perceived limitations.

Recently, I have been reading Ted Kooser’s Kindest Regards and the author’s focus on the
beauty of locality has steered in another direction. With the help of Kooser, it has become more
apparent to me that those little kernels of meaning and beauty that can be found anywhere
contain storm clouds, and the seemingly small things will swell to the size of hurricanes if given
the chance.

To be honest, I’m not sure what to do with this realization. I certainly don’t have all the answers
right now, but I am part excited, and part nervous about what my life may look like going
forward. In the meantime, I’ll make sure to be more aware of the kernels which keep piling up.
As for a concise and satisfying conclusion? I’ll leave that for the next internship which is only a
short Junior year away.

-Korbin Opfer, Shirley Heinze Land Trust Intern

Today is my last day of my CAPS summer fellowship at Heartland Alliance. I look around the office. It’s quiet, a normal Friday morning as people mostly elect to work remotely before the weekend. Regardless, while everyone goes about their day, I sit here reflecting on some of the things I have learned this summer about both the work I have gotten to be a part of in refugee resettlement and as part of a non-profit at large in Chicago, IL.

I once asked my supervisor the question, “how does Heartland approach the problems it wants to solve?”, and she gave me an answer I did not expect. For those that may not be familiar, Heartland Alliance’s mission is to resettle newly arrived refugees and immigrants in Chicagoland with the goal of helping them to become self-sufficient. My question about its “approach” could have yielded a number of answers. 

Her answer to me was that Heartland takes a “strength-based approach”, something that helps each person newly arrived to the country to center, at least for a moment, on what things they bring to the table as a citizen in their community. Getting them to “feel confident in their skills, but also to feel confident that they are human beings who are here to contribute to society,” is the ultimate goal, something that can transcend any single service Heartland provides. 

When we look at the broader implications of the strength-based approach that Heartland takes, it certainly places the refugees and immigrants in a position of accountability, or at least more accountability than one might think refugees should have. In fact, this is often a misconception: both from the outside world, and from inside Heartland (and organizations similar to it). When I asked my supervisor about common misconceptions she hears about her work, she spoke directly to this issue. “We are not here to save people”, she told me. “We are here to support. People save themselves, but they need our support to do it.” Sometimes staff and even newly arrived refugees see Heartland as an organization that can solve everything, which can affect the effectiveness of such a non-profit with limited resources. To be effective, it takes the newly arrived refugees to recognize that even in a new and often-times intimidating home, that they are still capable as human beings in society. They have to see themselves in the equation, and all of the autonomy, but responsibility that comes with it.

As I think about what I have learned this summer working in a non-profit, that may be the most important lesson. At Heartland, we are not here to save people; we can only support them in saving themselves. The best way to support them is to help them see not just their own strengths, but to see themselves as citizens in their community. Avoiding “mission drift”, where an organization loses sight of its goal (in this case supporting, not saving) is hard in refugee resettlement, a line of work that faces you with real people and consequences. But as an organization, Heartland does not have the means to address the root of the core challenges that refugees face in Chicago and the United States. However, it can support people, one by one, in facing those challenges, and give them the disposition to continue to overcome them long after we are supporting them with tangible means. Maybe in the future Heartland can exercise more influence on some of those core challenges. For now, it needs to focus on its strengths: supporting refugees with personalized services, all in the name of allowing them to create a better world for themselves. 

“Problem-posing education affirms men and women as beings in the process of becoming.”  Paulo Freire, Pedagogy of the Oppressed

• by Aidan Obermueller, Heartland Alliance

‘I don’t know.’: the response that never feels good enough. Whether it is an answer to what you want, why you started, or what you plan for the future, few leave a conversation satisfied when you say ‘I don’t know’. But I, personally, don’t know a lot of things. I am a very indecisive person; I like to do a lot of things, and I don’t mind doing a lot of things, so, while some people might call me a people pleaser, I would say I’m just really adaptable. I want what others want because I would be content with either.

Being so flexible is great a lot of the time; I’m reliable, understanding, good at sharing, good at listening, good at conflict resolution, and the list goes on. But that also means, I have a hard time setting boundaries, and don’t always receive the same grace I give others. While it can frustrate me in the moment, it’s not something I like to focus on and often just brush off.

But there was one day where this flexibility made me feel like Elastigirl, being pulled in all different directions, and I felt as if everything was out of control. I had just finished putting out a fire with one set of kids, when I see Willow and Zack (names have been changed to protect privacy) start shoving each other, so I rush over and say, “Uh-uh-uh, keep your hands to yourself; we do not solve our problems with violence” to which Willow responded with “Then make him to stop.” Willow did not like that Zack knew all the lyrics to the song we were playing and was singing it.

As I explained to Willow that Zack had every right to sing and that sharing a classroom with other students meant sometimes we had to hear and do things we find boring or don’t necessarily want to do, she interrupted to tell me how mean and horrible of a teacher I was, which I took. I let her finish and then said, “Okay, well just because you think that does not mean you can shove Zack. So it’s either you go color or play but no more shoving.” She rolled her eyes and went to hug me and I cringed inside because one of my biggest pet peeves (which I did not know I had until this summer) is getting a hug after an argument or disagreement where there was clearly no resolution. I stopped her and said, “No, you don’t get to hug me after telling me how horrible of a person I am without apologizing. I am not mad at you and I respect that you feel that way about me but I do not want a hug, because you hurt my feelings.”

Willow’s face went blank. She was so confused and awkwardly walked back to her table. We went the rest of the day like nothing happened and I wished the kids a good day and reminded everyone to be safe like I did every day.

But, as I took a deep breath as the last child left, it really hit me. I said ‘No’ to a hug. In general, I feel bad rejecting any physical touch because I recognize we need touch and it is important for a lot of people to receive that from others. Because of that, there were so many days I went home upset after I allowed a hug from my coworkers and students after getting an earful from them that was negative. It felt like a slap in the face.

A few weeks prior, as I was giving a friend the rundown of my day and mentioned feelings this way my friend said, “Why do they get to feel good after making you feel bad?” Roasted, I truly was. Because any behavior you allow, you endorse.

• by Noemi Vela, By the Hand

As a result of my time ending at Jacob’s Ladder, I have been given a chance to shift my focus from getting the most out of my experience to reflecting on everything that I’ve learned and what it means. Throughout my summer at Jacob’s Ladder, I had the pleasure of learning many lessons, though the ones that stick out the most to me are the ability to walk into new experiences with an open mind and heart and not to put too much emphasis on my expectations. 

I believe that it’s completely normal to have expectations and a mental checklist of things that we want to accomplish when entering a new environment or experience. It’s a way to hold ourselves accountable and a way to maximize what we’re learning. Even though having expectations is essentially inevitable, I have come to realize that expectations can limit us and put us in a box. If we’re constantly thinking about an imagined quota or very specific experience, it can result in being very disappointed and sad that it didn’t work out the way we planned. When in reality, the expectation that we didn’t experience wasn’t meant for us, and the one that we were able to experience, can lead to us learning more about ourselves and others. 

It can be unrealistic and daunting to say “Don’t have expectations”. We all have goals and ambitions (personally, professionally, academically), so it can feel weird to say “I’m going to walk into the experience with no expectations.” However, my time at Jacob’s Ladder taught me that schedules and plans can change. It’s completely normal. As a result of schedules and plans changing, it’s vital that we are flexible and aren’t attached to our perceived realities. If we can let go of the imagined reality where all of our expectations are met, it can be freeing and lead us to learn things that we wouldn’t have learned otherwise. I highly doubt that I will completely stop walking into new situations with zero expectations. However. I will be flexible with my expectations and open to them changing. 

Since I have learned that my expectations do not equal my reality and that is okay, I have felt much more accepting and comfortable with what happened compared to what I thought would happen. I believe that this mindset switch is very helpful as I am getting closer and closer to my career since the workplace can be unexpected and is prone to going through changes. With an open mind and heart, it helps the always-changing and unpredictable conditions of the workplace feel a bit more manageable and that what is meant to be, will be. 

• Natalie Ensor, Jacob’s Ladder Pediatric Rehab

A lot of people think that I am a shy person. But really, I am just an anxious person, and that results in me thinking and rethinking through any possible implications and consequences of any actions or words before doing or saying them. And when I do not pre-think through them, I will post-think through them afterwards. Or both, which can really slow an interaction. Shockingly enough, that kind of hesitation comes across as shy.

As I have gotten older and worked on it, this pattern of thinking and hesitation have been steadily decreasing. And this summer specifically, I have gotten to practice a new mentality surrounding social interaction that has really helped.

It started at the beginning of the summer. On maybe my second day, one of my supervisors took me to a meeting with her where she was planning an awareness event with a few other representatives of youth organizations over coffee. While I was only there to shadow, walking into a meeting like that on only my first week, I felt woefully underqualified to be there. Talk about having to think through a social interaction. I was introduced to all of the people there, who were all very nice, and they began the meeting. As they planned, I heard a bit about how each of them came into their fields, and I thought about what an odd set of circumstances that these people would wind up at the table together. An odd set of circumstances, I realized, just like the set of circumstances that brought me to the table. I started thinking, what would be so different about me that my circumstances were any less valid when I too, had the same goals? Not much. I was reminded of a phrase that I had started telling myself last semester: I belong in every room that I am in. But now, I actually had to put it into practice.

Little did I know just how many opportunities I would have to put this thought process into practice this summer. My supervisors have brought me to tag along with them to nearly all of their meetings this summer, just so I can get a feel of how Girls on the Run operates. So, in addition to learning a lot about the organization that I am working for, I have met many people and had several intensely social interactions. Each time, reminding myself of my new mantra, it gets easier to walk in thinking about why I am there rather than how I got there. And now, at the end of the summer, I have realized just how much weight this takes off of an interaction. 

At the most recent meeting I went to, my supervisor took me to a luncheon packed full of people, many of whom were invited because they head up nonprofits. Walking in, though I felt significantly better than I did at the first meeting, I was still a bit uncomfortable, because confidence is a skill, not an epiphany. And this big, formal room of leaders felt like the confidence Olympics. So, I was following around my supervisor, not saying much, until we walked up to two people who were talking, and my supervisor got into a conversation with one of them, leaving me to talk to the other person. At first, the conversation was a bit strained, I was extremely conscious of being at least a decade younger than everyone else in the room, and I could not even focus the conversation on the purpose of the luncheon… because I was completely unaware of it. I could not stop thinking about the formality, and the fact that everyone was shaking hands in dresses and button-ups. But then, after my conversation partner and I had awkwardly interrupted each other by accident a few times in attempts to initiate a conversation, I glanced down and noticed that he was wearing flip-flops. For whatever reason, this immediately snapped me out of my hesitation. We both belong in this room, no matter the formality. I physically felt my shoulders relax. I apologized for interrupting to bring attention back to the conversation and I started talking and talking before my mind even gave my lips permission. Apparently, the person I was talking to was a professor, and if I enjoy talking about one thing, it is definitely school. As it turns out, so did he. Then, when the lunch part started, Professor Flip-Flops asked me if he could sit with us, and settled on my answer before he even asked my supervisor. He told her he was joining because I was “fun”. 

I was floored. Never before have I been one to bring new people into a social group, and certainly never before has my first impression on someone been that I am a “fun” person… usually not even my third impression. This made me realize that the practice that I have been doing this summer has really helped: I went from being intimidated by a small coffee-get-together to hyping myself up during a large luncheon. This skill is still, obviously, a work-in-progress. One does not go from being nervous in a one-on-one social interaction to being comfortable in any social interaction in one summer. But I am a little better at it than before, and I have found that my new reminder is very helpful for me. 

• By Katherine Naylor, Girls on the Run