Warning: You always
know there is something up when I leave a warning at the beginning of a blog
post, as if it could be harmful to your health if you continue reading. I do not think it could possibly hurt you, not
physically at least – but I do feel the need to alert you that this blog seems
to have taken the direction of more of a public journal or diary that not only
outlines my adventures in Yap, but also navigates the inner thoughts, the
indescribable feelings and emotions that I am encountering. We shall see where this goes – for as Peter
Pan so wisely said, “to live would be an awfully big adventure”, and I would
hate to miss out on it over something as silly as being embarrassed to share
what I am truly experiencing.
The past
week or so has brought with it some of the most frustrating, trying,
challenging experiences I have ever faced.
My classes seemed to hit a wall.
My Geometry class floundered at the most basic concepts which I thought
we had mastered – which led to my almost losing it during a class period that
changed from a 5 minute review on bisectors to a full fledged re-teaching of
the lesson completely changing my language choice and approach. The students could sense my frustration and
many even apologized to me after the class.
I felt terrible for almost completely losing my patience – a virtue that
I usually pride myself on after 6 years of handling every possible problem from
every possible age group during my years on camp staff – I felt even more
horrible for letting my frustration show to my students, the ones who I truly
am directly here to help along their path of education to help improve the
overall living conditions of Yap. I am
not used to failing – in fact, I refuse to fail… and I used to think that this
meant that no matter what, I needed to do all in my power to achieve
success. I now see – that our failures
are what make us human – and how we react to these failures is what defines our
character – what makes us role models – what sets us apart – what makes us
heroes.
In my
Junior year of high school, I gave a talk during the Kairos XIX retreat about
Piety. My favorite quote from this talk
is “It doesn’t matter how many times we fall down, what matters is that we
always get back up.” For most of my
life, I persevered, I dug deep, I thought I was forcing myself with my own will
to get back up. After reaching a new
level of frustration, a level of apparent failure – I am once again “back up”
on my feet– but I would still be struggling in the dirt if I was not lifted up
by the love of others – and most importantly, by the love of God.
Things
seemed to be getting worse at first - I had that terrible pit in my stomach
that comes with homesickness (I have a GREAT story… well many stories relating
to my experiences with homesickness – that is for another day), I was feeling unmotivated to work on planning
my lessons – to giving my all to helping these students to achieve their dreams, I was looking at my cold
showers as painful trials from the depths of some horribly twisted icy hell, I
was losing focus on what is truly important in life – of why I am here on the
island of Yap.
I thought that a quaint Skype
date with my “more-lovely-than-words-can-describe” girlfriend would help to
raise me out of this lull. After an hour
of working through the lack of video and what was a great conversation – we both
realized that the online phone chat actually just made us seem that much
further apart. It put me further into my
funk as I spent the rest of the day wondering if I should just hop on a plane
to run back to Keri just to hold her in my arms… That thought quickly receded
when I realized I would have to wait until Tuesday night anyway, and it was
only Sunday. But – I ended up realizing
how excited I was to be with her when I return home, and even though we are
9,000 miles apart – I feel that our relationship has only grown stronger. Sorry, boys, even though I am on the other
side of the world in the middle of the Pacific Ocean – she is still all mine –
and she is even more perfect than ever.
Still –
I was left feeling lonely, having some serious cases of FOMO, and missing all
of the wonderful people back home on top of my frustrations with school. To make things worse in the most dramatic way
possible, a huge tropical storm has been swirling around the island for the
past 3 days with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Our power periodically goes out for hours at
a time – Yap literally experiences island wide black outs. Being thrust into the forced darkness seemed
to be mirroring my inner frustrations that I just could not seem to shake. And then – out of the blue (meaning we get
mail on Mondays and Wednesdays – and today is Tuesday) – Fr. Rich brings a
package to me during the last period of the day smiling cheerily as he says, “Well,
it looks like someone loves you.” As I
looked at the package, my eyes were immediately drawn to the return address
label that I recognized so well as I read off the address of The Community
Outreach Office of The University of Scranton.
I could not stop beaming – but I practiced my self-restraint and decided
to wait until I was home to open it.
Of course, I was welcomed home
by yet another power outage as the storm swirled around us – so I took my
package and cuddled up with it in my cozy, sweaty twin bed. My second family at the Community Outreach
Office had sent me toilet paper, chapstick, pens, games, tootsie rolls, crazy
straws, a waterproof camera, a yo-yo – all of the necessities one needs on a tiny
island in the middle of the ocean. And
while all of these gifts certainly raised my spirits – it was the other items
in the package that lifted me back up onto my feet. I was at my lowest of lows (as one of my
greatest mentors has repeatedly told me – My free spirit brings me to the
highest of highs, but when I hit a low – I hit the lowest of lows, I have no
middle ground) – I had fallen into the deepest cavern I have ever experienced,
I accepted that I could not pick myself back up on my own – I surrendered
myself to God, telling him that I needed his help to pull me back up to the top
of the mountain, to bring me back up to the highest of highs – and he responded
with a simple package – with a Community Outreach cup that changes colors when
it’s cold, with a FIRST T-shirt that I am already wearing, with a Center for
Service and Social Justice (new office name.. impossible to answer the phone
with I imagine) bag that already has my school books in it, with a few flyers
outlining what the Community Outreach Office is up to now this year – and what
truly helped me not just simply back onto my feet – but what sent me soaring
back up to the sky – a bundle of letters from my second family.
I sat in
my room – with all of the lights out due to the black out – reading the letters
with a flashlight – laughing hysterically as I read Lauren’s adventures of
bread delivery and Peter’s note written in giant smelly highlighters and Kerry’s
absolutely inappropriate, but oh so perfect for us letter, smiling to myself as
I read Francesca’s note written on a rubber ducky and Michelle’s adorable
animal puns. I could not stop the tears
as I read Ellen’s note describing life in the office, Lori’s beautiful words of
encouragement, Cathy’s letter that seemed to find me right where I was at. And then the sobbing began as I read Pat’s
letter – a letter that reminded me that my experiences in Scranton, in the
Community Outreach Office did not have a four year expiration date – these
relationships will last for a lifetime.
I
fell. I fell hard. I fell deep.
I gave up. I realized I could not
make it on my own. I turned to God – I told
him I needed him. He answered me. He sent me the encouragement, the strength,
the motivation I needed. He picked me
back up with the hands of my friends, my mentors, my role models, my family. He saved me.
“When
you love you should not say ‘God is in my heart,’ but rather,
“I am in the
heart of God.”
-The Prophet – Kahlil Gibran
