Tag Archives: Chicago

In Truth and Love

On one of my first commutes to work I had left my headphones at my apartment. This is a big deal to someone riding the CTA, because headphones provide a welcomed distraction to the chaos of life in the city. This train ride felt really long and I tried to ignore the awkwardness I was feeling. As I stood to exit the train, an older man also stood so we made eye contact and shared a small grin. We stepped off, and as we hit the platform he started chatting to me about his day. We walked for about five minutes together before our routes took a shift as I went to walk into work and he was to continue down the sidewalk. Before we parted ways, he asked for my name and we shook hands as we shared a more genuine, friend-like smile.

I have reflected on this moment a lot during my summer. Perhaps the hardest part about the city to me is that human interactions are reserved for those at work or our known friends… rarely are conversations with strangers welcomed or encouraged. So then I started to think about why this is. Is it because people are somehow more dangerous in the city? Is it the fear that someone will ask something from us and it’ll feel awkward to deny? And I honestly couldn’t come up with an answer that made me feel content. I realize that there are major issues in the city that create for a dangerous environment and that crime rates are high. I realize that being a woman, I should be more mindful of the places I travel and what I do, in order to be safe. But these things still didn’t explain why humans couldn’t just love each other enough to engage in a simple conversation on the train. So the first step I took to experiment with this debate was to promise to never again wear headphones in a public place. With this one decision came many more interactions with strangers. I was asked multiple times for spare change, was complimented on my hair, and most often of all was asked, “Hey, how you doin?” in a non-Joey-from-Friends way but more of a thank-you-for-acknowledging-my-presence way. How crazy it was, that my removing my headphones, I automatically became a conscious member of society instead of a life-avoider. This of course made me start acting differently. I envisioned the people asking me for spare change as a version of myself in very different circumstances. Because of this empathy, I could no longer ignore them and make up excuses about why I couldn’t treat them as a member of society, so instead I would ask to pet their dog and talk to them about the pet. Or if they didn’t have a pet, I would just ask them how their day was going or have another form of conversation to initiate. Sometimes I had money and other times I didn’t, but in any case, I would never walk by without saying something.

I think this is what the CAPS Fellows Program meant to me. It’s exhausting to constantly be focused on MY purpose and MY career and MY achievements, especially when I don’t know what the heck my calling is. But what I do know, is that no matter what environment I am in or what day I am having, I need to be a conscious, loving member of society. I know that my purpose is to approach any situation in truth and in love. As I practice these two things more and more, I believe my calling will become more and more evident, and I can bless others while feeling content about my place in this world. And to those who are having trouble finding their calling also, I just wanna say… it starts with taking out our headphones.

Defining Quality

What is quality?  This is a question that Ingenuity seeks to answers in terms of arts education.  However, this is a question I sought to answer in terms of an internship experience.  Being a college student, we are told that an intern experience is a quality one because we need to build our resumes.  So often, students spend their summers making copies and getting coffee for the sake of building their resume. But is this truly a quality internship?  By the end of the summer, students only know how to use the printer, order coffee, and, if they were lucky, sit in on a couple of meetings to take notes.  My definition of a quality internship is one where I can grow professionally by doing meaningful work. Luckily for me, Ingenuity feels the same way.

The advantage of working at a nonprofit organization is being surrounded by people who are passionate about their mission.  I can always feel the passion for quality arts education for all CPS students in each team member at Ingenuity from the moment I started working here. When I was tasked with the Partner Starter Institute, I was excited to have a project that was integral to the programming of the Partnerships and Professional Learning team.  Being in charge of the Partner Starter gave me the opportunity to exercise my networking, facilitation, and event planning skills. I was given the freedom to design the content of the entire day from the venue, agenda, and even the catering.

  
 Ingenuity puts a lot of faith into their interns.  We are treated as equal members of the team. We are invited to staff meetings where our input is encouraged and valued.  As a member of the Partnerships and Professional Learning team, I have the opportunity to help run professional development events and attend a meeting to foster arts partnerships.  My time at Ingenuity has taught me the importance of partnership and collaboration. No person is an island and we need to work with others if we want to accomplish anything.

Each day was a different adventure working at Ingenuity.  This experience allowed me to think about what kind of work environment I should look for when seeking future employment.  The work culture at Ingenuity is very inviting. Each staff member seeks feedback from others to ensure that their work is being done efficiently.  It is inspiring that each team member models that it is encouraged to work together on projects.

   
 If you asked me what a quality internship is, I would tell you Ingenuity without hesitation.  Ingenuity provided me the opportunity to grow professionally by tasking me with the Partner Starter Institute, assisting with professional development events, and fostering arts partnerships.  I know that every task I was given at Ingenuity served a purpose that aligns with their mission of ensuring all CPS students have access to arts education. I will miss working with an organization that is passionate about the work they do and take the time to nurture a student’s professional development.

             

Jenga Blocks and the Metaphor of Relationships:

It’s difficult to believe that I am coming to the end of my time at Erie House. In the few weeks I have been here, I have learned a multitude of skills, listened to new perspectives on life, and saw the service sector function through a different organization. Each day was another day to learn, to grow, to challenge myself. Yet, some days brought lessons that were seemingly more profound than others and introduced me to a new way of viewing relationship-building, and life in general.

Since ninety-eight percent of my work has been with elementary-age or middle-school age kids, I’ve definitely become more apt at playing sports as well as a variety of board games that I had either not touched since my own childhood or have never seen in general. However, Jenga was one of the games that I was quite familiar with (as there was the “giant version” Jenga in the game room at Valpo). One night at one of the youth programming events, we played Jenga—but with a twist.

In this game, Solomon, the man in charge of the youth programming (youth being anyone from 7th-10th grade) at Erie House, gave us eight blocks each. With those eight blocks, we were supposed to build whatever we wanted. Not understanding the ulterior motive (there always is one—or so I believed), I began constructing a tower that would be quite stable if a block were removed (I tried to anticipate what he could possibly be doing and figured it would be safe to go with a short and stable tower). But what came next surprised me. He had his own eight blocks but he didn’t build anything. Instead, he asked me if he could put a block on my tower. I looked suspiciously at him but added a ninth piece to my already amazing-eight-piece tower. But I wasn’t the only one. He went around to each youth and asked to put a block on their tower. Some decided to take it, others did not.

At the end, we had to share why we built the tower the way we did. Some youth explained that they wanted to build the tallest tower, and so they had paired up with one of the staff members or each other to create a taller tower. Others made shapes, like a duck, and said they did it for fun. It was neat to see the level of creativity and the amusing replies they gave. But then Solomon then asked if any of us had any idea what the point of the game was. We all went around and shared our thoughts. Some people believed it was about teamwork since many of them decided to put their blocks together to make something bigger, others believed it to be about individual creativity.

Solomon stood up and pointed at each tower and asked if we could identify which blocks were ours if we had joined our blocks together. Some said yes. Others no. Then it became clearer as he explained.

“This whole exercise was about creating a narrative. We all have our own stories, but sometimes we don’t know what story we want to tell, so we hop on someone else’s and create a narrative that way.

Do you remember that I asked each one of you if I could add a block to your tower? Some of you said ‘yes’, and others of you didn’t. That was me asking to be a part of your story, of your narrative. It’s okay if you said no. Sometimes you see something you really want to be a part of and sometimes you’ll get turned away. But it’s okay, because there might be openings other places to insert yourself and be a part of that story. With each tower, you created a story, a narrative—by yourself or with others. But in the end, this is about understanding how we all relate to each other, and the ability to accept or decline people to be a part of our story and making it our own.”

It was amazing how something so simple like Jenga could become so profound. This extends past just talking about youth programming. It’s about life. We are all building Jenga block towers, so precariously stacked and with only so many pieces, but we don’t always have to build it alone. We can if we want to and that’s acceptable. We can also allow others to help us create what is our own story and account of our lives, actions, and character.

This metaphor isn’t just for the youth at Erie House, but for each person who is telling his/her/their story in life. As I move forward, soon to end my time at Erie House, I’ll know that my metaphorical Jenga tower is even broader because of all the blocks I allowed to be added to my narrative. I hope that I was also able to take some of my Jenga blocks and add them to the youth and staff I worked with in the short time I was there. However, as I continue on to Spain where I’ll be teaching next year, I hope to use this metaphor, this story and its meaning, to better form relationships and deeply reflect and think about what it means to be an individual and collective in creating personal stories.

 

“Every Voice Matters”

Satu, dua, tiga…

 

This past Friday was our final day of Refugee Youth Summer Program here at Heartland Alliance- a day filled with many emotions, from exuberant pride at the growth and confidence of our kids, to humbling gratitude at the opportunity to work with them each day, and finally the acute sadness that accompanies difficult goodbyes.

 

For the last six weeks, I’ve waited in front of the Howard Jewel-Osco in Rogers Park for our youth to come out to summer program, based this year around the theme “Every Voice Matters”  (“camp” is not used by Heartland due to its potentially retraumatizing connotations). Kids between 5-15 years old from countries such as Syria, Eritrea, Burma, and Central African Republic- many of whom are relatively recent arrivals to the United States- are invited to summer program as an opportunity to build relationships, promote familiarization with their greater Chicago community, assist with English language acquisition, and provide a trauma-informed space to process experiences in a safe and supportive environment.  Each day, myself and fellow Heartland staff hop on public transit with our “Howard Crew” kids to go meet up with the rest of our 40+ person summer program group- rotating daily between engaging in planned activities, heading to the beach, facilitating support groups, playing soccer with other refugee resettlement agencies, and participating in field trips in the Chicago area.

Baking cookies in pizza box solar ovens for “science day,” which I had the opportunity to coordinate and lead. Our word of the day was “experiment;” we also made DIY lava lamps and slime!

 

Throughout the summer, I often found myself counting to three (as done in Malay at the beginning of this post).  Sometimes this was done silently to myself, accompanied by a deep breath on a jam-packed rush hour bus with 20+ tired out children in tow who “are sitting down, we promise!” (as they stand in the middle of the bus aisle); during others, it was yelled with enthusiasm when leading a group game of four corners. I‘ve used it to de-escalate conflict, navigate passionate outbursts of emotion, and learn new languages from our participants. As I prepare to head to Malaysia come January, I’ve been especially privileged to be able to start learning Malay from some of our Rohingya girls, and turned these numbers into a game with one participant- for every new number or phrase she taught me in Malay, I would teach her one in English. Whenever something happened that made her sad, I’d start counting as fast I could in Malay (always messing up), which usually provoked a laugh or smile even on difficult days.   

 

It’s fairly intimidating to show up to work everyday knowing that you’re engaging with kids who are braver, kinder, and more intelligent than you’ll probably ever be. The youth that I’ve had the privilege of growing close with this summer are quite literally some of the strongest kids in the entire world- coming from backgrounds of persecution and oppression only to enter a country that continues to place their identities under attack. A country where they are given next to nothing (and are actually forced to undertake debt just to arrive here- refugee families take out loans to cover their own airfare) but must integrate into a society that overall rejects their unique cultures, languages, and religious backgrounds as “unamerican” and further marginalizes based on skin color. A country who only provides around $1000 per family member to start an entirely new life (think about how this compares to cost of living in the city of Chicago) with an administration that is actively cutting funding for needed social services, ironically requiring many families to move to areas of heightened violence; oftentimes the very thing they seek to escape. Our participants come into a nation that overall does not value the skills and educational backgrounds of the refugees who enter it and incorrectly equates intelligence with english language proficiency, prompting refugees to work multiple low paying jobs at once to make ends meet, all while stigmatizing these individuals as a “threat” (even though it takes years and countless screenings to legally obtain refugee status) and victim-blaming these same individuals for “burdening” one of the wealthiest nations in the world (even though refugees have no personal say in where they are resettled and actually pay more money back in taxes than they will ever receive from the federal government).

 

Our phenomenal Youth and Family Services team, who are constantly lifting one another up with their wisdom, support, and of course food

And yet, despite all this and so much more, our kids arrive each day with the ability to laugh genuinely, advocate for one another, care deeply for those around them, and ask critical questions of the world in which they live. It’s quite frankly a resilience unlike any other, and I look up to each of them immensely.  Given all that I’ve learned from these individuals, I was kidding myself when I thought that I could do tearless goodbyes. And when it was time to leave (and the presumed adult teacher version of Miss Emily was trying hard, but unsuccessfully, not to lose it), it was my turn to hear a “satu, dua, tiga…” coming from my ten-year-old friend.

Recognizing the Phase and Naming the Stage

Alright, it’s week eight in your internship. The end of summer is approaching, and you’re a couple weeks from finishing. What should you do now? You’ve asked the questions, given your input, and tried to be the best intern you could be, but what happens now?

I feel like there’s a shift that takes place over the course of an internship. I think you could consider the ‘shift’ like a series of stages. Stage one is what I like to call the “oh s**t” phase; you’re just figuring things out, and you’re not sure yet if you’ve got what it takes to handle it yet. And, from what I’ve learned, the only way to get to stage two (the “I get this, but not that” phase) is to be confident in your own ability to succeed.

In stage one, I was afraid of letting my supervisors down and letting Ingenuity down, because I thought I didn’t know enough to make meaningful contributions. Then I realized, no one knows everything. While I didn’t know, for example, what quality arts indicators are most equitable and student focused, I did understand how to think through the problems myself. Is requiring all schools to have their musical instruments in-tune equitable? Student-focused? My colleagues decided “no.” But I thought there was something there, so I gave my opinion (me, as a non-arts education expert). I said that while it’s not fair to require schools to make their instruments in-tune when they could be funding more student-oriented opportunities, it is an important to know whether or not students have access to quality tools that allow them to create effectively. While I haven’t been exposed to the entire conversation surrounding arts education in Chicago for the past several years, I was able to trust, draw upon, and offer my perspective. It got others in the room thinking differently about how they saw the problem. So in trusting myself, I moved to stage two which is where I am now.

Stage two is all about confidence, professionalism, and enthusiasm; you’ve got to have ‘em. This is because it’s easy to become the underdog… the millennial… the kid in the office. It’s important to explicitly show what you understand while professionally asking for clarity. My favorite line has become, “what I’m hearing from you is [this], am I understanding you correctly?” This allows you to show that you are engaged in what your supervisor is saying while also asking about what you don’t know. Being the kid means sometimes your supervisors and colleagues over-explain things (this is likely because it totally looked like you were in over your head on week one– and that’s okay). Just remember: exude confidence which equals trusting, drawing upon, and offering your perspective. Once you’ve mastered that, you move on to the final stage: the “what now?” stage.

This is what I’ll be entering as I step into week nine of my internship on Monday morning. What now? I feel comfortable doing the job I came here to do and sharing my opinions, so what’s next for my to accomplish other than more experience? Exactly. You should now, at the end of your internship, start asking yourself if you’re getting the experience out of this professional opportunity that you’d hoped. At the beginning of the summer, hopefully, you made a list of what you’d like to learn how to do or get better at. It’s time to check-in. Did you accomplish everything? My starter list was to get better at networking, get better at communicating, get better at public speaking, and understand how to use this experience to show my professional capability. I think I’ve gotten fractionally better at each, but now it’s the last lap and I’m running out of time to get it all done.

Enter, stage four.

Focus on your goals. You know what you need to do to finish your internship projects, and it’s time to bring your goals to a more forward place in your mind. Make a list of which experiences you think would help you check-off your goal list. For me, that’s reaching out to more folks at the big event next week, checking-in more regularly with my supervisor, helping to present our final instructional session, and identifying through-lines in the skills I learned and the next position I’d like to apply for. Wish me luck!

Cheers!

Finding New Growth in the Garden

Weeding the tomato plants with a volunteer group.

This week is my last week at Growing Home, so naturally, I have been taking more time to pause and reflect on my CAPS journey. Last week, I spent time in our Learning Garden which serves as a hands-on experience for kids to touch and taste the produce we grow. The garden is the responsibility of my department to maintain, so I’ve spent a lot of time in that space over the summer pulling weeds, pruning beets, and harvesting all kinds of vegetables: tomatoes, radishes, green garlic, kale, swiss chard, and a few strawberries, (getting to sample a few along the way, of course). While working in the garden, I was surprised to see how tall our pea plants had grown from when we planted them a few weeks after I started my internship. These plants, which were once pea-sized seeds, had climbed to nearly 3 feet in just a few weeks. As cheesy as it sounds, I cannot help but connect my personal growth through the CAPS experience to the growth of these plants. Just as it’s difficult to notice a plant’s growth in real time, my own growth wasn’t always apparent day-by-day, but looking back through this summer, that growth is undeniable.

Our growing pea plants

I am so grateful for the people and experiences that have supported my growth over the summer. One of those experiences has been the opportunity to work in each of the departments at Growing Home, which gave me a full experience and understanding of the organization and the work that they do. I mainly worked with the Community Engagement department hosting volunteer and tour groups on the farm, attending community events, and, lately, I have spent my time to helping prepare for Growing Home’s first Back to School Farm Fest at the end of August. This preparation has included everything from making a promotional flyer to creating 70 seed germination necklace kits that will be used as the kids’ activity to teach them about the beginning stages of plant life. Although I won’t be here for the event, it has been fun to see it take shape and to see the corner of our office pile up with boxes of in-kind donations, especially the 60 backpacks, full of school supplies, that will be given to children at the event.

 

Outside of my department, I visited the office where our development team works and learned more about what our development team does to keep the organization running smoothly and to raise the funding needed to keep the organization operating. I was able to learn about the process of organizing a fundraising event and helped create some social media posts.

 

 

Being given a variety of tasks and experiences has been one of my favorite parts of internship at Growing Home. I’ve learned proper way to bunch pieces of kale to form a uniform bouquet, helped with resume and job search workshops, acquired in-kind donations from local businesses, prepared weekly cooking demos, and recently created a short video for a grant. As a self-identified planner and sometimes overly-cautious person, these experiences have shown me my ability to take on new tasks or challenges and succeed, even in unfamiliar circumstances.

 

Taking some time away from the farm to hammock and read with my fellow CAPS Fellow, Emily.

Overall, my CAPS experience has stretched my perspective, not only on the work that goes into running a non-profit, but also on the many injustices in our food system and the amazing work community members in Englewood are doing to overcome the challenges and barriers they have had to face.

 

Although I will miss working with the talented staff at Growing Home and spending time with the Chicago CAPS cohort, I’m happy to have made lasting connections with these wonderful people who have supported my growth this summer in the same way the metal cage supports the pea plants ability to grow taller and stronger. Going into the next semester, I’m thankful for the personal and professional growth I’ve made this summer, but just like the pea plant, I still have plenty more to grow.

Compassion Fatigue

One morning on my commute to work, the woman sitting next to me on the train struck up a conversation with me, as we are often on the same train for a portion of our respective commutes. I took two things away from that conversation, the first being that I am fooling no one in my efforts to seem like a seasoned Chicago 9-5er, as she immediately intuited that I am an intern. The second thing I took away was her reminder that I am looking at the next forty years of my life in the workforce. I’m not sure if that piece of sage wisdom was supposed to terrify me (40 years of working seems pretty daunting), and at first it definitely did. With time, however, I’ve come to regard that statement as crucial in my personal journey to find a career or goal to work towards in my life that I feel called to do.

I’ve been working at Concordia Place for five weeks now. Concordia Place is a Lutheran non-profit whose mission is basically to support members of the community at all stages of life, from early childhood to the teenage years to retirement, through accessible services that have arisen out of the need Concordia Place identifies in the communities it serves. I am shocked that the time has flown by so quickly, but the abundance of things that I have learned about myself, nonprofits, and the needs that often go unmet in the Chicago area community, are proof of the passage of time.

My supervisor, Cameron, has been awesome about taking me along on her meetings around the city, whether it be with Concordia Place board members, public relations consultants, or potential donors, and helping me to understand how a nonprofit runs from all different angles. For a nonprofit that I had never heard of until my involvement in CAPS, Concordia Place has a large and impressive network of players and contributors, and the people of Concordia Place have worked tirelessly to get this far. In a political and social climate that has presented charitable need in so many different areas and issues, I am impressed by how Concordia Place continues to grow.

In a recent meeting I accompanied Cameron to, I learned about the concept of compassion fatigue. Compassion fatigue is best described as a feeling of indifference towards charitable campaigns addressing even the most important of issues, due to a saturation of appeals for aid for various social issues. As human rights are infringed upon with increasing frequency lately, there are just too many problems vying for attention. For example, it might be difficult for Planned Parenthood to campaign for funds right now, when the ACLU is also campaigning for funds to help families separated at the border, which is a recent social issue that is dominating the news cycle. Both organizations work towards a very worthy cause, yet people cannot put their time, energy, and money into an infinite number of worthy causes. They do what they can, and no one can do it all.

As a college student who is lucky enough to attend Valpo and feel safe and at peace in my privileged bubble in Indiana, it is easy to understand how compassion fatigue comes about. Eventually, we just stop talking about social injustices and things occurring in our country that are against our personal convictions, because they are too numerous, and the thought of all that needs to be fixed in the world is overwhelming and upsetting. And because these injustices often are not directly impacting those as privileged as myself, we can just push these thoughts aside. This is a dangerous pattern of ignorance and comfort to fall into.

This CAPS fellowship couldn’t have come at a better time, as I myself was beginning to fall into this pattern. What could I, an average college student, do to help fix any one of these problems? It often felt like the answer to that was nothing. Now, working for a nonprofit, I see that there is so much that I can personally contribute with my talents and gifts, and even more importantly, so much that can be done when numerous compassionate and driven minds come together for change. Compassion fatigue is a very real phenomenon, but one that can be combated with passion and persistence. I’ve learned that any progress towards change is worth being celebrated, no matter how great or small. And optimism is key.

If I’m looking at the next forty years of my life, the nonprofit sector seems like a great option as a place to spend them. The lady on the train’s terrifying advice now suddenly seems terrifying for a different reason, in that forty years doesn’t seem like nearly enough time to achieve all that I wish in making this world a better place. Although at times it may feel both difficult and hopeless to fix social issues, I feel called to push aside compassion fatigue and just do what I can with what I have to fight for change.

Volunteer day at the new Concordia Day center opening later this summer on Milwaukee Avenue!

Concordia Place interns with CEO Brenda Swartz at her 15th Anniversary Party

Where Do I Go From Here?

Since this is my first blog, I’ll introduce myself. Hello, I’m Alicia, and I want to be an advocate for human trafficking survivors. It’s always a little awkward for me when I tell people my career aspirations. Human trafficking it’s exactly a light dinner conversation people expect when they ask me, “what do you want to do after graduation?” It may seem like I’m being unnecessarily specific, but I’m actually expanding my options. In high school I wanted to be a psychologist that specializes in healing trauma caused by human trafficking; however, VU has helped me broaden my career horizon while still centering it around human trafficking survivors. I could work as a lawyer, a policy maker, a researcher, an FBI intelligence analyst, or a caseworker. This why I find myself interning under caseworkers at Heartland Alliance’s Refugee and Immigrant Community Services (RICS). While this internship has been interpersonally and emotionally challenging; it has helped me grow in self-awareness and awareness of refugees and asylees.

Through this internship, I’ve learned more about the refugee process, specifically the resettlement process. I’ve seen first hand some of the difficulties that immigrants and asylees encounter. I’ve often found myself thinking about how I would feel if I had to live in a country I can’t easily communicate. I know their journey can be dismal and hopelessness at times, and I wonder if they think the immigration is or will be worth it. When I encounter families, in particular, I’m reminded of my own family. They made me think of my grandfather and his immigration to the U.S. For the first time, I thought about the challenges that he went through. All that I have in the U.S.—my very existence—is because of his decision to move here despite not knowing much English or having any family here. Even though I can’t talk to him now, I feel so fortunate to be doing something that positively affects other people coming to the U. S.

 

Because of how RICS teams function, I am able to contribute to the workload as an intern in a measurable way that is not overwhelming. I’m surrounded by people that have the same goal of helping others in the most compassionate and effective way. The type of people these jobs attract and the way this workplace is structured gives me the opportunity to be apart of the most supportive, encouraging, understanding, and well-communicated group of people that I’ve ever worked with. I’m given space to learn how I can make a meaningful impact on participants* and improve my interactions with them.  

 

This is especially important for me not only because of my ancestry but because of my identity as a U. S. citizen. Recently, I heard someone say that the separation of families at the border is not a Trump administration problem. It’s a problem that all of the U. S. is responsible for. The lack of compassion in our actions (or lack of actions) toward refugees and asylees is and has been a tragedy. At our highest intake of refugees (when we accepted more refugees than any other county recorded), we still accepted less than 1% of refugees around the world. I feel so fortunate that I’m able to talk to people about my internship and incite compassion for these fellow human being. I feel fortunate that I’m able to share this with you, my reader, and people I have and will meet with.

There is, however, an obstacle I face that inhibits my capability of maximizing my efforts: anxiety. At Heartland Alliance it’s important to create a welcoming environment for the participants by knowing the participants by name, greeting them when you see them, and asking them how they are doing. It’s also important to create a friendly environment for fellow coworkers. This is a challenge for me because I get more anxiety than the average person during certain social interactions. For example, I get a great deal of anxiety from names; pronouncing someone’s name wrong, calling them the wrong name, or completely forgetting someone’s name genuinely bring me fear because I feel like I’m unintentionally insulting someone and/or making them feel insignificant. I can work on and manage anxieties like that, but it can be exhausting to manage from 9am to 5pm for 4-5 days a week. 

Based on this experience, being a case manager for human trafficking survivors might not be the career for me; however, I think it’s still too early to be sure. I have no doubt that being a case manager for human trafficking survivors would give me a more holistic understanding of human trafficking survivors. Long term, I might be more comfortable with a job that specializes in helping them with one thing (such as mental health) instead of managing their entire case. That way, I can focus on the participant for a prolonged amount of time and help with the specifics of their mental, legal, or ect case. However, my opinions on this may change. Only time and experience will tell.

 

*Participants are the refugee and immigrants coming to the office. Heartland Alliance uses this term as a reminder to the employees and the participants that the participants are not just passively receiving services; they are expected to actively be involved in attaining their goals.

Savior Complex: It’s not about you, it’s about the community

As a recent graduate from Valparaiso University in Social Work and Spanish, I have begun to experience life in the “real world”. From various job applications to calling insurance companies, I am learning what it means to be an “adult”.

In this time of transition between my next job and the end of my college career, CAPS is filling the time with experiences that have opened my eyes to understanding the complexities of being a part of a non-profit organization. While this is not the first non-profit organization I’ve worked for, I have had the ability to see more of the “behind-the-scenes” aspects, such as the logistical planning and important meetings, such as meetings for fundraisers. In addition to these invaluable experiences, I’ve also come to discuss and explore what my calling is in this work that I do, but also understanding one essential aspect of service work: I am not a savior.

That probably goes without saying, but sometimes embedded subconsciously in our minds and hearts is the feeling that we are “saving” a community through the work we do. But we need to rephrase and review how we approach the service sector. The point of service and outreach is not to fulfill and feed the “savior complex” many individuals have, but rather to ask and assess what the community needs. We are more prone to assume what a community needs instead of taking the time to investigate what the community needs most, whether this is through forums, community surveying, or even personal testimonies from those living there. I admit that I had a “savior complex” stepping into the field of social work. I saw myself as someone saving other people, when in reality, it isn’t about me. It’s about the community or the client. Instead of saving, perhaps we should seek to empower.

There’s a famous metaphor that alludes to this concept of empowerment through the idea of teaching an individual to fish versus giving fish to an individual. Teaching the individual how to fish allows one to continue being self-sufficient. Other times, the individual knows the skills, such as “how to fish”, but doesn’t have the resources. And yet other times, they don’t have a place where opportunities or “fish” are readily available. Thus, non-profit work and service work should ultimately be about giving clients the tools to be self-sufficient and assessing the needs of the clients instead of assuming or giving without empowering them. Many of the programs here at Erie House support this idea of empowerment and independence. Through the citizenship classes offered to youth mentoring programs, the philosophy is that we are helping a community help itself. We are helping individuals help themselves. We are empowering, not saving.

Therefore, through my service work at Erie House, I am learning to be an accountable, active member in society. I am learning to give the tools, link clients with the necessary resources, and ultimately act as a way of getting clients to their goal—I am not delivering their goals to them. In all, I am just an everyday person looking to give back to a community with the hope that the cycle of giving and empowering allows the community to thrive in new and bigger ways.

Even though the work I do isn’t always glamorous or “fun”, I know that in the long-run, I am serving an organization that is here for the right purposes and serving the community in the best ways it can through the programs and resources offered. So as I sit here and continue to sort crayons and crafting materials, I know that these seemingly trivial tasks are important to the community and to the organization as a whole.

“But Do You Have Friends?”

“I get to do this every day.”

This thought has echoed within my mind repeatedly over the course of the last few weeks, carrying through the Chicago view from my apartment window, to the neighborhoods surrounding my brown line L commute, to the community-style lunches enjoyed by my department each day that bring together different cultures, flavors, and perspectives. I am reminded of it when I hear and learn new languages from my office desk, and when I witness the kind of joy that can only come from a two-year old ready to run outside to play. And though my first few weeks in Youth and Family Services have consisted more or less of blindly stumbling around while simultaneously trying to pretend that I actually know what’s going on, I remain thankful that I stumbled into Heartland.  During these first few weeks in Chicago with Heartland Alliance’s Refugee and Immigrant Community Services team, I have had ample opportunity to reflect on the post-graduate transitions and new beginnings that, while new and exciting and overwhelming and meaningful, can also be difficult and stressful. This relatively very small transition on my part pales in comparison to the types of transitions that our participants are making–transitions to a new country, culture, language, and community, among so many other things. Coming into my internship, I knew that Heartland worked to help provide a space for the latter among our participants and staff- a space for community- but I am each day more fully beginning to realize the type of community that I myself am entering during this time of transition. Heartland is inherently relational in both philosophy and practice; something that I both resonate with and am constructively challenged by each day.  Living out inherently relational sometimes means setting aside immediate tasks in favor of conversation with a participant, prioritizing people over productivity, and knowing that people can and must take that priority. These moments act as reminders that help me more fully engage in the relationships I claim to strive for, redefining my previous notions of professionalism in a way that prompts me personally to grow.

In building these relationships, part of my work with Youth and Family Services involves K-12 extracurricular programming, meaning that last Wednesday, we hosted our annual Girl Power Pajama Jam (find a cooler work event, I dare you). During GPPJ, I had the opportunity to listen to, laugh with, and learn from some brilliant young women all while wearing PJs, eating pizza, and focusing on the theme “girls can do anything!” It is a unique privilege to be surrounded by women from all over the world, to witness them form friendships as they go, and to be simultaneously welcomed into those friendships (but maybe most importantly, to hear the incessant laughter that follows a 15-passenger van jam out session post-pajama party).  

Yet our participants not only welcome us into their lives, but their homes, sharing stories and personal space. On a recent home visit, being granted the opportunity to enjoy tea with a Syrian family, we chatted about family and summer and Chicago, and I was asked about my recent move. After sharing that I appreciated my time in the city and at Heartland, a question was posed with sincere concern: “but do you have friends?”  

Coincidentally, life also happens to be inherently relational, and it looks like this summer, I’ll be learning about priorities. I look forward to continuing to learn from my friends at Heartland Alliance.

Got Questions? Ask Them!

When applying to be a CAPS Fellow, I had a limited understanding of what that meant. I knew from former Fellows that it meant interning at “real” job, travelling to that “real” job, and spending my summer gaining some experience. But, just what exactly was that job? Where would I be going? Staying? Doing? To be honest, those questions are hard to answer. The best way to understand it is to experience it.

The first day I started at Ingenuity was the first day that I really understood what that non-profit does, and, really, I don’t think anyone could have explained it to me beforehand. There’s a process, I’ve learned, that comes with entering a new space (a new workplace). It’s a whole new environment, and, to do the job right, you need a lot of context for why your colleagues do the work they do and why. Before arriving, I browsed their website and googled the work they did in the past, but I began to understand more just by being there.

What do I mean by that? I mean: you learn most about your CAPS Fellows placement just by listening in on meetings, listening to your colleagues chat about the work, and having your colleagues explain to you how their work contributes to the larger trajectory of the organization.

And, please, ask questions!! It’s really easy to let yourself feel like you’re not qualified or as experienced as your colleagues, and that might make you feel like you should remain quiet so as to not disrupt the work going on, but don’t! In my experience, folks are so happy to bring you into the conversation. They want your input! So, if there’s clarification that you need in order to make meaningful contributions to the conversation, by all means ask for it!

At Ingenuity, I’ve learned (through asking questions) that the organization’s goal is to bring arts education to every Chicago Public Schools student. One of the questions I asked: “How does Ingenuity do that?” Once I learned that Ingenuity is the Chicago ‘hub’ that tracks arts partners (organizations like: museums, galleries, creative working studios or any places that provide access to arts education) and teaching artists (in the classroom) at every school, I could then ask questions like, “What resources does Ingenuity provide that connects arts partners and teaching artists?” Their response is: Ingenuity provides several training sessions available to both partners and teachers throughout the year in order to inform them how they can use Ingenuity’s resources to their benefit (like arts grants), advocate for the continuance and addition of arts ed in schools, and much more. After learning the basics, through asking questions, I was able to not only understand the work that was going on but also where I could contribute to the conversation. It was because I asked questions that I got myself assigned to developing one of the training sessions I was most interested in (storytelling as an advocacy tool!).

So, just relax, believe in your own ideas, and trust that people want you to succeed, and then you’ll have an amazing time at your CAPS placement, meeting tons of wonderful people!

Finding Community in a New Place

Living in a new place can be an exhausting process of navigating the unfamiliar. The first few days are usually filled with trying to get comfortable in a new space. For me this included finding where to buy groceries every week, the route I would take to my internship every day, and a good, nearby coffee shop. These small forms of comfort and routine help create the space for an unfamiliar place to become a community.

On the morning of the first full day at my internship, the crowded processing room was full of applause, as everyone celebrated accomplishments and got motivated for the day. During the morning meeting we discuss the theme of week, which for my first week was “community”. As a result, I spent time that week reflecting on community and what it meant to me in the context of my recent, unfamiliar surroundings. In new places, community is something I think might feel absent at first but can quickly emerge and come together.

Before explaining more about my notion of community in a new place, it might be useful to explain more about where I am interning. My CAPS placement is quite different from many of the other CAPS placements and from most internship experiences in general. I am interning at Growing Home, Chicago’s first and only high-production, USDA certified, organic urban farm. Yes, that’s right, I’m interning at a farm. In the city of Chicago.

A view of the field on Honore Street, one of Growing Home’s two lots. Look closely to see the delicious and colorful swiss chard.

Upon telling people my placement, most did not know urban farms existed, or they assumed the farm was just a glorified garden. However, let me assure you, a garden will not produce 30,000 pounds of produce annually. At Growing Home, I work within the Community Engagement department which seeks to make the farm a space that is open and accessible for the surrounding, Greater Englewood community and other nearby neighborhoods, various organizations, schools and universities, and larger communities interested in urban agriculture within the city of Chicago and across the U.S. As the Community Engagement intern, I assist with our events and activities which include tours of the farm, weekly cooking demos, our annual block party, and tending to our learning garden which gives people an opportunity to interact with the plants and occasionally harvest a few vegetables to take home and try. Through these events as well as produce and seedling donations, the Community Engagement department helps improve food access in nearby communities where fresh and affordable produce is less accessible.

Tabling at a community event organized by a local high school where we served samples of a rice dish with kale from the farm.

Outside of Community Engagement, Growing Home runs a 14-week employment training program for adults who experience barriers to employment. During this program, participants work as Production Assistants on the farm and work through a job-readiness curriculum in the classroom.

Although I have only been in Chicago for three weeks, it amazes me how quickly I’ve begun to find a sense of community. Whether it’s among the Growing Home staff who have made me feel so welcome, and who are always willing to share their favorite ways to prepare the vegetables we grow on the farm, or the CAPS Chicago cohort who I hope to share many more adventures with in the coming weeks (especially more $1 Taco Tuesdays). So far, my time in Chicago and at Growing Home has taught me the importance of finding and creating community with those around you, and even though the time I will spend in these new communities is limited, I know the lessons I will learn and the relationships that form will extend far beyond my CAPS experience.

We’re Not in Valpo Anymore!

 

We traded our Chapel bells for rumble of the L train.  Chicago.  A city that will never cease to amaze me.  Being from a Chicago suburb, I am no stranger to this majestic city.  I spent my weekends exploring different pockets of city under the careful guidance of my family.  I like to say that my family bubble wrapped my Chicago experience.  I could not take public transportation until I was 17, and even then I was under the protection of my brothers.  My mom is a nurse and my dad is a taxi driver, they know firsthand how bad Chicago can be.  They were just trying to protect me, but they cannot shelter me forever.

The independence is liberating.  Living in Chicago allows me to explore myself outside of the safety net of home or Valparaiso.  I was overjoyed when I discovered my placement was in Chicago because it meant I could grow in a state I love.  Being a big city, Chicago offers diversity that is not highlighted often back at school.  Although every person has their differences we all share one thing in common, taking public transportation.  Everyone has their own love hate relationship with CTA.  On one hand, it is easier that having your own car because you will not have to deal with paying an outrageous amount of money for a tiny parking spot.  On the other hand, the estimated time of arrival of the CTA is unpredictable because of unscheduled stops.  Complete strangers bond over their shared feelings about CTA.  It is truly a beautiful sight.

 

Not as beautiful as my commute to my internship though.  I made the decision to walk to my placement to get better familiar with my surroundings.  Every morning, I walk over the Chicago River as I head to Ingenuity’s office.  Ingenuity is the glue between Chicago Public Schools (CPS) and arts partners.  Ingenuity was birthed from the city’s need to provide quality arts education to all of CPS.  My organization tackles this goal through four innovates: data and research, public affairs, outreach, and partnerships and professional learning.  With a mission as vast with these four innovates, you think there is a large army of people advocating on the behalf of arts education in CPS.  Well, there is.  Nine dynamic leaders blazing a trail in educating and advocating for arts educators.  The staff of Ingenuity works tirelessly with CPS Department of Arts Education and arts partners to enrich the lives of children in CPS.

I am honored that Willow and I have been inducted as fearless warriors in the fight for quality arts education to all of CPS.  I feel like I have become a part of the Ingenuity family.  As a Partnership and Professional Learning Intern, I am excited and nervous to plan our annual Partner Starter Institute to acclimate arts partners to the culture of CPS and instill the importance of partnership.  This summer is just beginning, but I know endless adventures await me as I explore the city and learn more about the importance of arts education.  This may not be Valpo, but it is a place where I belong.  A place I can call home.  

 

 

Familiarity in the Difference

Before we even get started here, I think it is important to know that I grew up in a small farm town in Northeast Indiana, to devoted and incredibly loving parents. My hometown, North Manchester Indiana, is a Tree City USA with one university, two retirement homes and three stoplights. If you travel 4 miles east of town limit, you’d find my parents’ house tucked in a woods with a long gravel lane. This environment has to be one of the top places for a child to grow up. I had frogs to catch, hills to sled down, and many cousins to play basketball with in my grandparents’ barn. Now that I am three years out of high school and into my degree at Valparaiso University, I love to reflect on my past as I am continuously blown away by my present and future.

Now that you know where I am from, I want to tell you a little about where I am at right now. Currently I am sitting in the north lawn of the Field Museum in downtown Chicago, with the skyline in its full glory as the sun shimmers on the high rise office and apartment buildings. I can see the lake to my right but its natural beauty is somewhat overtaken by the noise and energy of the city in motion. I am contemplating whether I want to get a donut or a cookie for a treat from one of the shops along my walk back to my apartment, or if I should just grab some groceries and stay productive. All of this moment is something different than what I grew up knowing, yet I am able to fit into stride with the millions of people who live in this city. Obviously I have a sense of adventure and curiosity to be able to fit into the crowd like this, but I also believe that I feel comfortable here because of the people who I have met so far. Today as I was in my supervisor’s office talking about the events of tomorrow, and into the room walks a jovial man (Mark Bouman) who will be going with us tomorrow on our drive to Gary, Indiana. We do a little introduction and I find out that he not only graduated from VU, but he also had the same professor as me… in fact, he had Professor Janke’s first class and I had his last! As I reflect on this moment I feel a comfort knowing that we have an immediate connection. I also feel proud to be a student at VU, because this man has been incredibly successful in his career and he is just one example of why VU’s reputation extends in circles outside of Valparaiso. For these reasons, I am anticipating an incredibly bright and successful summer.

Though my past is geographically different than my present, my passion for people and nature remains the same. It is now evident to me that my backyard woods and my grandparents’ basketball games were much more than temporary entertainment. In fact, these things are a huge part of who I will forever be. I will always be a student of nature and a social member of a team. Therefore, I am so excited to be working on environmental community engagement in the Calumet Region for a cohort of Field Museum people that have a passion for healthy people and healthy places.

AKA, students of Ronald Janke’s first and last classes.

How to Put a Giraffe into a Refrigerator?

Time flies, I must say. It has passed half-way point of my position at the Concordia Place as a CAPS Fellow and my first time living in Chicago – I am very grateful for everything thus far.

Concordia Place is a nonprofit with a focus on providing growth and opportunities through inclusive early childhood, teen leadership, and senior wellness programs to the community. Having the opportunity to work at an organization that has been changing the lives of Chicago children and families for 35 years is such a great honor. However, initially I almost didn’t take the offer:

The fact that I lack experience in an organization for children before in addition to any advancement related work experience gives me worries because I hope to do a good job with my limited time there. Prior to my first day of work, I was very nervous and timid and did not know how to cope with the doubt and fear – what if I don’t fit in. Not until my week at work, I found that everyone works in the office is very welcoming and friendly – they are always willing to help me learning new things very patiently.

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The very first picture I took on my first day at work

 

Since my first day working at Concordia Place, I’ve gotten the opportunity to develop various skills such as in fundraising and marketing. A new early learning center, Concordia Day, is opening in Ravenswood (see picture below) and I am very glad to be a part of this historical establishment and given my help and support. I am able to learn very hands-on marketing skills from a marketing consultant and how to communicate with local businesses about the organization.

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The finishing look of part of Concordia Day

 

My boss, Cameron, is the bomb. (The “badass” lady who’s giving a speech standing on the bench is her 😉 We bonded over “sweet tea” during our first meal as we discovered that she is from the South and I also went to high school in the South. Not only she is one of the most understanding and helpful people I’ve ever met, she sat down with me on my first day to discuss my objectives for my time at Concordia Place so I could get the most of my experience there. I started to gain confidence from learning her stories and experience.

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Cameron giving an introduction of Concordia Place to volunteers from Deloitte on Impact Day

 

Living in Chicago for the first time has been a blast – I absolutely love the Chicago summer! There are fun events going on almost every day and every weekend. And my real Chicago experience can’t be completed without my beloved “Team Chicago”: Bri, Erin, and, Meow (aka. Evan). Whether it’s going on a spontaneous photoshoot on the street in the middle of the night or watching the Prestige more than 3 times together within a month as it has become part of the “rituals”, being able to have such a support group like them really makes this summer memorable.

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#Selfie while waiting on Uber to dinner on my birthday!

 

Now as I look back in time, I am gradually figuring out how to cope with my fear and confusion. When I have to think about not fitting in or not belonging, like “how to put a giraffe into a refrigerator”, the answer is simply: open the refrigerator, put in the giraffe, and close the door (where there’s a will there’s a way).