Okay so I admit I have been failing at blogging - I've been swallowed up by my internship where I have the pleasure of offering mental health services for 3-5 year olds who have a trauma history. If any parents need some tips on techniques to work with these kiddos let me know ;).
- but Dmitriy is always a constant thought for me. The reality is he is getting close to transfer age and that is just plain scary.
It baffles me that he is still waiting - blindness is such a simple need to work with and the reality is that he can still become whatever his little heart desires.
Happy Thanksgiving!.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Children Have Worth
I wish I was able to explain my internship. Tell you exactly what I do and who I work with, but I can't. I will say that I work with children.
I will also tell you that institutional racism DOES exist and it starts young. We're putting a value on their precious lives and telling them how much they are worth with the difference in what they receive. Children notice when their schools roof is leaking into the corner of their classroom. They see when their classrooms are temporarily moved to another building because their building doesn't pass health inspections. They feel it when they are asked to draw on the broken chalkboards because there isn't enough paper in the room even for academic use never the less recreation.
How do we let this happen? Children don't make choices, they don't choose to be poor, to have incarcerated parents, to be abused..how can we justify punishing them? They are being punished! How do we reconcile the vicious cycle we create? Statistically children don't escape this and we're just recreating this generation in the next and yet we do nothing - change nothing. We are then surprised when in 10-15 years these children are making the same mistakes and have the same low self worth induced bad habits and they'll have children who we will also punish. How do we escape this..when do we start valuing children in spite of parents or their situation or the fact that their home has more bugs than food.
I take fault in this. After all didn't I avoid "the bad part of town" and allow myself to cover my own eyes to this problem under the pretense of safety. Children live there. I am to scared to drive my beat up car through this neighborhood but children LIVE there. If driving through there with locked doors and fast speeds is unnerving why didn't I think of the little lives who are swallowed up by it daily. They have to sleep there with crooked roofs and drugs and bad choices being made for them..
I encourage you to drive through the bad part of town...wherever that is for you (with someone else..and locked doors) and consider the fact that their are children there. Look at where they live and picture your children there, look for a grocery store (I bet you won't see one..) look at their school..for a playground. It will break your heart but will you do something?
Its no secret that I love children who aren't given a chance..after all I do love Dmitriy. Somehow in the world there are children we don't value and who are never given a chance. Some of those children are in orphanages and institutions, but others are 30 minutes away in an area we refuse to see.
I will also tell you that institutional racism DOES exist and it starts young. We're putting a value on their precious lives and telling them how much they are worth with the difference in what they receive. Children notice when their schools roof is leaking into the corner of their classroom. They see when their classrooms are temporarily moved to another building because their building doesn't pass health inspections. They feel it when they are asked to draw on the broken chalkboards because there isn't enough paper in the room even for academic use never the less recreation.
How do we let this happen? Children don't make choices, they don't choose to be poor, to have incarcerated parents, to be abused..how can we justify punishing them? They are being punished! How do we reconcile the vicious cycle we create? Statistically children don't escape this and we're just recreating this generation in the next and yet we do nothing - change nothing. We are then surprised when in 10-15 years these children are making the same mistakes and have the same low self worth induced bad habits and they'll have children who we will also punish. How do we escape this..when do we start valuing children in spite of parents or their situation or the fact that their home has more bugs than food.
I take fault in this. After all didn't I avoid "the bad part of town" and allow myself to cover my own eyes to this problem under the pretense of safety. Children live there. I am to scared to drive my beat up car through this neighborhood but children LIVE there. If driving through there with locked doors and fast speeds is unnerving why didn't I think of the little lives who are swallowed up by it daily. They have to sleep there with crooked roofs and drugs and bad choices being made for them..
I encourage you to drive through the bad part of town...wherever that is for you (with someone else..and locked doors) and consider the fact that their are children there. Look at where they live and picture your children there, look for a grocery store (I bet you won't see one..) look at their school..for a playground. It will break your heart but will you do something?
Its no secret that I love children who aren't given a chance..after all I do love Dmitriy. Somehow in the world there are children we don't value and who are never given a chance. Some of those children are in orphanages and institutions, but others are 30 minutes away in an area we refuse to see.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
9/11
Today is September 11th and I find myself surprised by how long it has been.
I honestly can't write much on this topic without being upset.
Please watch this video by Suheir Hammad an amazing Tony award winning poet who happens to be Palestinian, Muslim and American.
Be warned it does have some language but it is SO worth watching after the kids are in bed.
I honestly can't write much on this topic without being upset.
Please watch this video by Suheir Hammad an amazing Tony award winning poet who happens to be Palestinian, Muslim and American.
Be warned it does have some language but it is SO worth watching after the kids are in bed.
Friday, September 10, 2010
A poem -anonymous
I have to remind myself daily that you exist
And while I'm here in my everyday
Alternating in a pattern between work and home
I wonder if you've moved
And I find myself selfish
Angry at those who come home without you
and angry at the wooden rails
that surround your body
Finding them responsible for you captivity
representing the society that will sooner
cage your body then free spirit
I try not to picture you hungry
An empty hope that your basic needs are met
And when my own heart beats
its a pulsating reminder that this freedom:
this constant beating comes with responsibility
and again I'm drawn to you
But images of your year older face
hits me like bricks
breaks my stride at best, and tries the strength
of my back on the days I try to picture
how you really are.
Bags under your eyes I've never seen in a toddler
and in pictures now engraved in some permanent
kinda ink on my heart, I've never seen a smile
Do you smile?
I don't picture you abused, not likely beaten
or bruised,
I don't see them angry
I see them indifferent, neglecting your existence
Warehousing your body like faulty product
and closing their eyes to your perfection
and am I any better than that in my silence?
I could give you statistics
Tell you about toddlers, mental institutions and death
But this poem is about is about a child
and my heart
Joining the two together in words
And coming out of the silence.
And while I'm here in my everyday
Alternating in a pattern between work and home
I wonder if you've moved
And I find myself selfish
Angry at those who come home without you
and angry at the wooden rails
that surround your body
Finding them responsible for you captivity
representing the society that will sooner
cage your body then free spirit
I try not to picture you hungry
An empty hope that your basic needs are met
And when my own heart beats
its a pulsating reminder that this freedom:
this constant beating comes with responsibility
and again I'm drawn to you
But images of your year older face
hits me like bricks
breaks my stride at best, and tries the strength
of my back on the days I try to picture
how you really are.
Bags under your eyes I've never seen in a toddler
and in pictures now engraved in some permanent
kinda ink on my heart, I've never seen a smile
Do you smile?
I don't picture you abused, not likely beaten
or bruised,
I don't see them angry
I see them indifferent, neglecting your existence
Warehousing your body like faulty product
and closing their eyes to your perfection
and am I any better than that in my silence?
I could give you statistics
Tell you about toddlers, mental institutions and death
But this poem is about is about a child
and my heart
Joining the two together in words
And coming out of the silence.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Blind Social Work
So school has started - with full force - and I no longer have any days off.
Honestly one of the best parts of school (and my internship for that matter) is meeting people. This year I am a senior in the Social Welfare program (at a school ranked 9th in the country for SW!) and this week we had the pleasure of meeting the juniors.
I was most excited to meet Shannon (she gave me permission to share) who transferred from a community college with an excellent GPA. She also works at a shelter for women and her list of volunteer work puts me to shame. We were all on unfamiliar territory as we attended a presentation in a building I had never been too and when we switched rooms I was amazed that Shannon had beat me there. I again sat next to her and probed her with questions(Sorry Shannon) and she honestly inspired me.
I asked her the usual questions like "why social work?" and she answered with:
Most social works choose social work for one of two reasons.
1. They see something wrong with the world with the world and want to fix it.
2. They've experienced whats wrong with the world and want make it better for others.
She told me she was the latter.
Me too - me too.
Whats special about Shannon?
She's blind. :) - Actually she was born blind.
She is roommates with "R" who is in a wheelchair after an accident and Shannon jokes that its the perfect arrangement. "She can point out the things we need, and I can actually reach them!"
She has the best attitude and when I mustered up the courage to ask her what its like to be blind she simply responded with "Well, what is it like to see?".
Doesn't it make you wonder what Dmitriy would want to be when he grows up? Maybe, because of his past, he would choose social work too. Can't you picture him now with his cane and braille computer walking into the first day of a class. :)
Honestly one of the best parts of school (and my internship for that matter) is meeting people. This year I am a senior in the Social Welfare program (at a school ranked 9th in the country for SW!) and this week we had the pleasure of meeting the juniors.
I was most excited to meet Shannon (she gave me permission to share) who transferred from a community college with an excellent GPA. She also works at a shelter for women and her list of volunteer work puts me to shame. We were all on unfamiliar territory as we attended a presentation in a building I had never been too and when we switched rooms I was amazed that Shannon had beat me there. I again sat next to her and probed her with questions(Sorry Shannon) and she honestly inspired me.
I asked her the usual questions like "why social work?" and she answered with:
Most social works choose social work for one of two reasons.
1. They see something wrong with the world with the world and want to fix it.
2. They've experienced whats wrong with the world and want make it better for others.
She told me she was the latter.
Me too - me too.
Whats special about Shannon?
She's blind. :) - Actually she was born blind.
She is roommates with "R" who is in a wheelchair after an accident and Shannon jokes that its the perfect arrangement. "She can point out the things we need, and I can actually reach them!"
She has the best attitude and when I mustered up the courage to ask her what its like to be blind she simply responded with "Well, what is it like to see?".
Doesn't it make you wonder what Dmitriy would want to be when he grows up? Maybe, because of his past, he would choose social work too. Can't you picture him now with his cane and braille computer walking into the first day of a class. :)
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Lessons Learned from Visually Impaired Children # 2
While it's important for the little ones to learn to use a cane to navigate the outside world the reality is they don't need it in familiar territory.
The kids can run and play around a room they are familiar with and you would never even know they are blind. I however, with perfect vision, still manage to run into my dresser atleast twice a week and have the bruises to prove it.
So what was lesson number two for me working with visually impaired kiddos?
"C" taught me that you can't move things in the room and not inform the children.
I didn't personally move the trashcan, but it was moved to clean up the aftermath of craft project.
This may not seem to suspicious yet.
You see little "C" was chewing gum, which is outlawed in the school for multiple reasons so he was asked to throw it away (do you see where this is going?)
Of course the trashcan was missing and little "C" was just doing what he was asked- the problem is I was unfortunately tying "J's" shoe in almost the exact place where the trashcan belonged.
That's okay "C" I needed a hair cut anyways :).
The kids can run and play around a room they are familiar with and you would never even know they are blind. I however, with perfect vision, still manage to run into my dresser atleast twice a week and have the bruises to prove it.
So what was lesson number two for me working with visually impaired kiddos?
"C" taught me that you can't move things in the room and not inform the children.
I didn't personally move the trashcan, but it was moved to clean up the aftermath of craft project.
This may not seem to suspicious yet.
You see little "C" was chewing gum, which is outlawed in the school for multiple reasons so he was asked to throw it away (do you see where this is going?)
Of course the trashcan was missing and little "C" was just doing what he was asked- the problem is I was unfortunately tying "J's" shoe in almost the exact place where the trashcan belonged.
That's okay "C" I needed a hair cut anyways :).
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
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