..................MY-AM-EE

THE BOOK IS CLOSING

2009-12-18T20:40:00.000-08:00

I have been a bit sick the past few days, so I just go to sleep in the evenings, waking up in the morning to realize that I haven't written. Then, once you skip for a few days, it is hard to get back in the habit.

Since my last post, quite a bit has happened. The school has had Christmas parties, movies, and concerts. However, it is quite a different concert than anything I have ever been involved in. The little kids sang some Christmas carols, let by my boy Marcfrid, one of the students. He was quite possibly the cutest kid I have ever watched direct a choir, and actually did a very good job. I was quite impressed! The middle school wrote a play and did it. It was about thieves coming and stealing presents from a families house. Pretty weak if you ask me, but for writing it in the morning and presenting it in the afternoon, it was quite well. I just wish they wouldn't always procrastinate to the last second to do something that could be quite good. Also, five middle school boys decided to remake a "Boyz II Men" Christmas song and dance to it. Once again, I was quite impressed. This, however, is most likely because in the culture I came from, no one really dances, or shakes their hips like these kids do. So I am constantly finding myself impressed by what they can do. High schoolers read poems and elementary kids must have forgot it was Christmas. They didn't prepare anything, but did devour all the food that was brought for everyone.

Finals were also given in the past week, so many students were complaining. For my students, I have never been so happy with them. After giving a spelling final with all the words from the year, I was a little worried to grade it. On a normal test, I would have drained my entire pen with red marks so this is what I was prepared for. However, after two, very lengthy finals, I handed out one F and the rest were A's and B's. For once, my boys took their time, didn't talk, and focused on a test, trying to get the best possible grade.

Today was my last day at YLC, which was only a half day. Of course, there was no learning going on, being the day before a huge break. Knowing this, half the parents didn't even send their children to school. Therefore, it seemed quite empty. I played a few games with my boys, gave them some word searches to keep them busy, and tried to do an English lesson with them, but who am I kidding? They weren't having it. After a few good laughs and a movie, it was time to bid the boys I have grown to love goodbye. While I hate them in school, I love them to death, but I have come to figure this is how it works in the life of a teacher. You have to love your kids, and letting them go is very hard, but I know it isn't over. I will see them again!

After school was over, the teachers and staff had prepared a big "Christmas" party, however, when I entered, everyone was there yelling surprise with a big "Happy Birthday" sign hanging and birthday decorations everyone. A large white cake even added a nice touch of flavor that said, "Happy Birthday Mr. Isaac and Farewell." Dang I hate that word. Just hearing it makes me tear up a bit. Farewell seems like forever, like something you say to someone who has died. Gifts were given to everyone for Christmas, but I felt like they just kept coming to me. I received a plaque that is more like a trophy thanking me for my dedication to the school the past semester. It really was a nice and thoughtful gift that I will take with me. I also was given a few bottles of wine and a cologne set. Maybe I smell weird to Haitian people? I don't know!!

As I said goodbyes and parted, I think back to all the amazing memories that have grown in my mind. I take many memories and pictures back with me to help me continue to grow through my experience here in Miami and Little Haiti. I will be back! I know I will. To teach at Yvonne? I do not know. I can not rule that out, but I know that some day in my life, I will be living back in this community! There is no doubt in my mind.

I now stay here in Miami to reflect on my experience and wind down everything that has happened in the past four months. Where has all my time gone here? I never thought I would get to the day that I was writing about my last day at Yvonne Learning Center, yet, here it is. As I continue on through my journey I will take everything that I have experienced and use it to help guide my on my path through life. I have experienced something not many people have got to experience. I have done this and more. I have lived..and I have experienced first hand.....Little Haiti!

FINAL MONDAY

2009-12-15T14:33:00.000-08:00

The last week of school. The first day of the last week at school. My last Monday at YLC. Bittersweet? Well, I would lean more to the "sweet" end of things. Being in Goshen with friends and family made me REALLY miss being there and going to school, however, my duty is here for another week, so I must make the best of it. As tempting as it was to skip my plane ride back, and just stay in Goshen, I had to be responsible. But is it a sin to be happy that a placement is about over? I do not feel like it is. Does it sound bad that I am ready to be done and back to a normal life and a more organized life? Sometimes I feel like this is unfair to the people here, yet, I have done my duty, served my time and learned a lot. Is there more that could be learned, quite possibly, but I am ready for a change, and the end is now in sight!

Last week always equals exam week. We must see what our student have learned in the semester to see our success as teachers, and their success as students. Today, I gave the spelling final that I wrote on the plane ride back. FIve whole pages of spelling words, for them to correct, and remember the definitions. It has been quite a few weeks since some of them have seen these words, so I let them review for about and hour then handed out the test. They worked very quietly surprisingly, however, after an hour and half, since it wasn't new anymore, they started talking. They have to constantly have new things, otherwise, they are not happy. I gave them a break over lunch, did a math lesson with them, then gave them the tests back to finish. Since it was a new thing again, they worked quietly for the remainder of the day on these tests. And wouldn't you know, these boys that had trouble reading first grade books were all doing spelling tests with the words: phenomenon, government, wharf, embargo, everything, sister-in-law, great-aunt, and believe. This was amazing. I have never been so happy to go through a test, especially a final, and NOT make red marks all over it. What a rewarding feeling.

Now, to continue on with the rest of the week, and giving a different final each day will be another test for all of us involved. Will they get burnt out on tests and not try on the last several? I hope not. I hope the A's, B's, and C's continue to be made. TODAY...was a good day! :)

FIELD TRIP DAY

2009-12-15T14:29:00.001-08:00

Finally, a day at "work" where I was not really required to work. A day where I could relax and wear my street clothes and still not be yelled at. The day of my dreams finally came, but proved to be a nightmare. Well, sort of!

As school kids gathered at school, we once again had the Super Tuesday service, praising, singing and praying together. Knowing this was my last Super Tuesday service, I had a smile on the whole time, even though it was so hot in the back room with 93 kids screaming, singing and dancing. No air conditioner that I know of could work its magic enough to actually keep that place cooled off. One hour of this is about enough to soak a shirt with sweat, and make one smell quite funky for the remainder of the day, yet, no one really seems to care.

As people leave the room of worship, the bus has arrived for the first field trip of the year. Word buzzes around school and excitement fills the air. Everyone is pumped to get out of school for the day and go to a park to relax in the sunshine. The 84 degree sunshine and 97% humidity. Just thinking about it makes me sweat again. It was HOT! As the bus is filled we take head counts and make sure everyone that paid is on the bus. The rest are left behind until their parents can take them home for school. Personally, I would have taken that direction had I been given the option. A hot day at the park or thousands of rules, or a day at home with video games. Seems like a no brainer to me, but that is because I had a good home life. I don't know all these kids stories at home.

As we end the 30 minutes trek to the park, empty basketball courts and huge playground equipment awaits us to run and jump all over it. Immediately, the courts were filled with boys changing into basketball clothes, including Mr. Samir and myself. It was the battle of the year. Finally a good court with two great hoops. The real skills could be proven today. The game was rough and long, but through the sweat and many hits, everyone finished strong and came out alive. Scratches and bruises, but breathing.

Clothes were soaked, and children tired. Shade was quickly found as everyone rested, trying to let the sweat dry up which is nearly impossible in the Southern Florida humidity. After a bit a dare was made, and they aren't taken easy. One boy challenged everyone that he was the fastest. Immediately, another took him on. Of course they are both in my class, making me look like the bad teacher. Five short minutes after this dare, the boy who decided to take on the challenge ran his face into a metal pole because he could not stop, pushing his teeth through his bottom lip, leaving a HUGE hole from the outside, all the way to the inside, requiring about 10 stitches. After this moment, we may as well of gone home because no one was allowed to do anything, except breathe and stay in place. The risk of someone else getting injured was not going to happen.

Sandwiches and chips were prepared as we handed them out to everyone, ate, and returned to school. Everyone that is, except for my boy Oliver. He was at the hospital for the remainder of the school day, until he returned about 3 minutes before the release time. His lip was incredibly huge with black strings dancing all over it, as blood continued to make its way out around the stitches. Why oh why do these things always happen to me? I feel like I am getting paid back for all the frustrations that I caused my teachers growing up. Funny how life always seems to do this!

BACK IN MIAMI

2009-12-14T14:29:00.000-08:00

As the plane took off over the Chicago lights to take me back to Miami, reflections of the weekend and life came to mind, as many memories of friends are families continued to pop up in my mind. Flying over a huge city like Chicago or Miami at night is such a beautiful sight. When a plane can leave a city like Chicago at night, filled with ice, fog and snow in the horizon, the lights glow like little halos. Within three shorts hours, you look out the window and see the lights that look similar, only no clouds and no fog, yet, a reflection of the moon in the ocean, highlighted by the bright neon lights of the downtown buildings, making them glow. Did I mention the temperature had raised about 60 degrees in this short trip? Our world is simply amazing!

While I road on the plane, I got out my computer and started writing out the final that I was to give my class on Monday. As I looked through all the spelling words that we had throughout the semester, little conversations came to mind that I had with my students over the past semester, explaining what each word meant. Looking at their writing has really made me appreciate the differences in people and in cultures. While we in Kansas hear about people in the hood or the ghetto, we imagine them having a different language. Not one that is different, but a different slang to our words in English. Words are put in different order in sentences here in Miami, and this is what I have learned that makes their language so different. Everyone not in this subculture believes that words are changed up, or pronounced differently, however this doesn’t seem to be so. I think back to coming in with what most people would call “proper English” and trying to teach them in this style. And to be honest, it hasn’t seemed to work. I was not reaching them when trying to define the spelling words. They weren’t understanding, and have never heard them used in the proper way. Listening to the other teachers, they even use it wrong. Why? Because we ARE no longer in Kansas Toto! I hade to come to the realization that while we change environments, from Harper to Miami, different things change. I was going to have to change, to make an effect on these kids, and learn to talk a bit like them. Then and only then were they going to learn. I had to learn a new sentence structure. Not one that is written down and understandable, but one you just have to know and adapt to. Once I started this, teaching these spelling words deemed to be much easier for me. I could relate these words’ definitions to each of these boys, helping them know how to use them. Its funny how your thoughts wonder like this, but I am glad they do!

WEDDING DAY #2

2009-12-14T14:28:00.000-08:00

When something goes from extreme heat to extreme cold, or vice versa, it is not very healthy for it. The cells in a body or the molecules in an object are expanded with the heat, then go to compressed with the cold. This is what my body is continually feeling every single time I go outside. I am used to walking out and wiping a bead of sweat of my brow, however, these days I am wiping a ball of ice off instead.

Its wedding day in Goshen and the temperature is falling. We go to the church for pictures, where the heater is proving to work greatly, yet, we decided to take pictures outside where traces of snow are still proving its presence the day before. We have to stand outside and watch all the girls being pretty for pictures in their tiny dresses. I could not have withstood the temperatures for pictures. In my three-layered tux I was freezing, as I stood on the campus of Goshen College, waiting for my turn to get into the pictures.

Finally it was back to the warmth of the church for some final pictures and the ceremony of the wedding. It went very well and everything seemed to be perfect as it flowed like the waters of the beach. I was glad Landon didn’t choose to have an outdoor wedding!

It was then off to the reception, where a good time is to be had with many old college friends present, as well as good food. This is the perfect Mennonite picture: friends, family, food and fellowship. Of course all of your friends are your fourth and fifth cousins, but we never find out until we start dating them.

Overall the day was a very good one, and almost picture perfect, as the snow gently fell in the lights of main street Goshen. It almost felt as if we were celebrating inside of a snow globe, as the flakes glistened on the outside and we partied on the inside. Once again, the beauty of God was proved in a beautiful day, celebration and nature

TRAVEL

2009-12-12T08:08:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, the majority of my time was spent traveling to my friend Landon Rupp's wedding in Goshen, IN. Home of the cold!

The morning started by getting up and getting ready, like the usual day. Megan was kind enough to get the car warmed up, which takes no time since it is 86 degrees when we wake up. She took me to the train station, which is close to our house, yet, took a good 20-30 minutes to get to. Once there, I sat and waited by myself on the lonely train that would take me to Ft. Lauderdale airport. At first, I was excited that the train was empty, but then, people started coming on. At each stop more and more people were loading onto it for a ride to work. After stopping at about 8 stations, we finally got to where I was getting off. Lugging around two huge suitcases was quite difficult when given about 15 seconds to get off the train before the door would slam shut on you.

After I got off the train, I sat on a shuttle and waited for a good 15 minutes for no one else to come. You would think that when no one else is even in sight, it is a good clue no one else is going to get on. So, I sat there with the shuttle driver, listening to her horrible music as we just sat. Finally we took off and she got me to the airport just in time to get checked in and catch my flight.

Once again I was in an airport, the best place to "people-watch" other than the beach, and I didn't even have time to sit and watch people. Every stage of my travel I was cutting it way too close for comfort.

The plane ride went as quick as three hours can (exactly three hours) as I sat by an old couple from Omaha, NE who had lived the majority of their lives in Wichita. It was fun to chat with people from the home state once again, since I haven't been able to lately. It was also fun to see white, English speaking people again. It is so weird to see people from my own culture, as I never do much in Miami, except the people I am living with, but even they don't have the same sub-culture of Kansas that these people on the plane and I do.

When the plane landed, I was greeted by two great friends who were in Chicago, and going to the wedding. However, since I am cutting everything close, it didn't give us much time to get to Goshen before the rehearsal started for the wedding. However, I made it just as the introductions were being finished and the pastor was praying. Perfect timing if you ask me. No embarrassing introductions! Wrong! Of course the pastor looks up and sees a huge person trying to sneak in and makes a big deal out of who it was. I had to introduce myself in front of EVERYONE. Something I LOVE doing, let me tell you. Even after this, the rehearsal went great and the diner went even better. It is good to be back with the people you love, and back to my real paradise. Even though I went through about 80 degrees of change in 3 short hours!

YOU'RE GUNNA MISS THIS

2009-12-11T04:49:00.000-08:00

Did you know:

Miami has an elevation of 12 ft?

The average daily temperature is 76 degrees F?

Miami-Dade county has 1,955 square miles?

5.5 million people fill that space?

Miami has one of the largest snow skiing clubs in the United States?

Miami is home to 150+ ethnicities and 60 languages?

-and I believe that English is probably language number 60

The average amount of days with sunshine each year is 250?

-I think Goshen is like 3!

I only have 14 days left here?

Only 14 days left? Where has all the time gone to? It seems like just yesterday I was slowly edging towards the door at YLC extremely scared to be in the environment of the "ghetto" of Little Haiti. Now, just 4 quick months later, I am at my last four and half days left there, as they start talking to me about a replacement person. Letting me be a little bit on the board of hiring, asking me for opinions of people that would do good with the boys I am leaving behind.

Only about 14 days total left here on the shores of the Sunshine State until I return the devastation state of Indiana, but mainly just Goshen. I love the place, but it will be hard to go from the Sunshine Capital of the Nation to the cloudiest city in the nation. And coldest as well! What is this I hear about single digit temperatures and ice?! I am leaving 90 degree days to fly to Chicago in less than an hour and I only have a sweatshirt. If I make it back to Florida without frost bite, it is going to be a miracle!

Last night while eating supper with my room mates, we started talking a bit about coming back next semester and when everyone will finally be back and it made me already start to miss it here, even though I was still here. I didn't really think this would happen, but 4 months on being in a place, you start to have your routine and become attached. I started thinking about one of my favorite country songs by Trace Adkins that says in the chorus:

You're gunna miss this

You're gunna want this back

You're gunna wish these days

Hadn't gone by so fast

These are some good times

So take a good look around

You may not know this now

But you're gunna miss this

It goes on to talk about a girl rushing through life. Once she gets to one stage she is continually looking ahead to what is next and rushing to get there, but someone is telling her to slow down and take it all in, because she is really going to miss these days. I think it is hitting home, while packing back to take to Chicago which will never return to Miami, that the leaving date is really coming, and soon this will no longer be home, but yet, like every other American, just a fantasy land of travel and vacation.

I am gunna miss this, and I will want it back (except for maybe teaching. I don't think I will want that one back) Maybe I will have it back though! Maybe I will return after graduating Goshen in April and head back south. I never know where the needle on my compass is pointing, because my destinations change everyday. It will be interesting to see what direction my life will take next. Who knows, maybe Anchorage, Alaska!

A PEACEFUL STANCE

2009-12-09T19:54:00.000-08:00

I return to school, not excited one bit about it, but go nevertheless. It is my job and duty. I have reached one of those points where you don't want to go to work, due to being spoiled from having a very long weekend, and yet another long weekend ahead of me. When I arrive, nothing has seemed to change. The same jumbled mess that always tends to work itself out no matter what happens. Once again, I tag along with the chaos, add my own touch of it and make it through the day.

When I arrive, Mr. Samir was there to greet me with a smiling face. I could tell he was anxious to tell me something, but what it was going to be, I obviously was unaware. "Let me fill you in on some events from yesterday." I smile, excited to hear some the of the YLC gossip.

"Well, your boy Jude may have gotten his butt whooped by a girl yesterday. Supposedly, she was brooming (or what we call sweeping) the floor and hit Jude's shoes when he decided to let her know he didn't appreciate that. I guess throughout the day, they had both been exchanging words and this was her snapping point. She just started laying punches on his head while the teacher watched thinking they were just joking until she got him down and kept laying hits on him. I wish you could have seen it!" To fill you in on Jude a bit, this boy is the softest person on the face of the planet, who turns and runs when he feels someone is THINKING about hitting him. He is a very scared boy, but loves to talk things up like he is the best fighter in the world. Knowing this child makes it all the more funny just due to the fact of how much smack he talks, yet, will not even back it one bit.

During class, everyone was giving Jude fits about it, and he seemed to be down all day. It was almost nice to see him quiet for a change, and sitting there doing work. I asked him later in the day what happened. He informed me that he didn't want to hit her back, because she was a girl. "I don't believe in doing that," he told me. "I am not going to hit a girl." Well, knowing this boy, he is not going to hit a guy either, but I admire him for this. How many perfect Mennonites, when getting pounded in front of classmates, nonetheless by a girl, will just sit there and take it knowing he is going to be tested for it later. While being submerged in a culture full of violence and beating, it was great to see that one actually does have a peaceful stance in his life. One he believes in AND sticks to, even in the time of action. What a great gift to see in one of your students. Very possibly, I rubbed off on this guy a little bit. Hopefully, if this is the case, he will always remember the stance of a Mennonite that we have talked about in class, and may he continue to live a life of peace, staying away from the dangers in fighting and war. If he learns nothing else this year (I hate when teachers and others say this because it is very cliche) but, if nothing else is learned, I pray that he honestly can remember me for my peaceful stance in the world and continue to live this way.

RETREAT IN THE KEYS DAY 3

2009-12-08T20:01:00.000-08:00

For the final day in the Keys, we were once again woken earlier than planned from the bright rays of sun coming through the glass. While we were still in silent time for this morning, I had thought of going out on a walk, just to get away and be in nature, but then I realized it was only about 7 in the morning. If I would sleep possibly another 2 hours, it would be that much more I wouldn't have to worry about not talking. Even if it is only thirty extra minutes of sleep. Obviously, the choice of sleep was it, and my next conscious moment hit me about 9:32, according to my phone.

The house was strolling around being quiet. I read a bit in my book and got ready for the day. Once the teeth were brushed, I headed out the door for a nice nature walk. While I tried to make it long, the road ran out pretty shortly and turned to highway, so, I turned around and decided to go sit out in ocean for a bit, just relaxing with the fish. However, the first thing I saw as I was wading, was a nice big puffer fish, swimming right by my ankles. I was quite nervous knowing that they are just a bit poisonous, but no big deal. When I jerked my ankle, he swam away quickly and never even puffed up. Other things I saw were hermit crabs, stone crabs, small minnows and some sweet coral just sitting there swaying in the water. Getting bored of watching them, I wanted to interact so I found a stick and the biggest crab I spotted and after about 30 minutes had him on shore hissing at me. What a great life!

Quiet time was over at 11 in the morning, which was weird to start talking again. I thought I'd be anxious to talk, however, listening to the silence and just concentrating by yourself on whatever came to mind really is a great thing. Being out with the ocean and your mind is some where you can not always get to. Especially in a city of 5.5 million people. There is always a constant hum of some sort.

We loaded the van and took off for Key West for our last day of retreat. We were headed the the southern most point of land in the United States. We later proved everyone wrong as we looked up Hawaii, being much more south, but technically, I was at the southern most point of America. Only 90 short miles from Havanah, Cuba. This seems weird since I feel closer to Cuba sitting in my living room. In Key West, we went to a Conch Bar, where we were served a fantastic meal in an amazing environment with fish in an aquarium. The only difference from the snorkeling the day before was the glass separating us. And the lack of sting rays and barracuda swimming right at you.

We walked around the shops, quickly discovering it was identical to every other tourist hotspot with the crude T-shirts and dirty ladies, however, everything here referred to being south and sea life. A place of its own, yet, carbon copy of Bourbon Street in New Orleans, Louisiana. Key West was a bit different than I had ever really imagined it, as I always wanted to go as a kid, but heard it was really no place for a kid. This was very true as drunk people lined the streets trying to talk to you as you passed. One lady even talked me into letting her try my hat on, but crossed the line when she asked if she could keep it. I have never came into contact with someone that sloshed.

We took off back for home, making quick bathroom stops as we flew back across the bridges from island to island. This gave me time to reflect on retreat and everything we had experienced, especially the beauty God has created in his world. Just being in this small group of islands and seeing all the life that fills it, it really is something to think of the entire world and what all possibly can be sharing this big ball we call Earth with all the different types of humans. The complexity of God must be very extreme; all the way to the point that I no longer dream of trying to figure out God. He is so amazing that we can not have any way on Earth of trying to determine it. The fine little details that go into every fish and crab (that most likely will never see a human or change the world that we know of) are so amazing, and just shows that God cares about everything on the face of the earth. I am used to seeing these details in mosquitos and bugs back home, but never think of it, because they are a part of my life. This trip gave me a realization of what really is surrounding us every day!

RETREAT IN THE KEYS DAY 2

2009-12-08T20:00:00.000-08:00

The morning came early, especially for JJ and I who slept in the living room on the East side of the house, which is lined with windows. However, it reminds me of waking up in my bedroom at home, as the sun creeps in early in the morning. At the first crack of light, the room started heating up as well, as the direct sunlight seemed to make the indoor temperatures rise.

Everyone was up by about 9-930, softly walking or chatting except for JJ who was pounding on everything and as hyper as a youngster eating chocolate cake on their birthday. In all of its “annoyingness” it truly was something to watch this guy bouncing off of everything. “We must leave by 11:30,” Heidi told us as we all glanced at the time revealing about an hour and half. We were heading off on a snorkeling adventure for the day, and must not be late.

As everyone was ready, we took off and made it there with plenty of time to spare. Our first time being on time to anything this semester. It really was quite weird. However, we sat around and talked, went shopping for some snacks, and then loaded the boat just before 1 and took out to sea.

We had a great history lesson of the Keys, pirates, and southern Florida as we floated through the Gulf of Mexico. That is, until we went under the bridge of Highway 1, when we entered the Atlantic Ocean. The change is so amazing and breathtaking. Not really. Both look pretty similar is you ask me. But we were off, flying as fast as the boat would take us as we passed many of the islands that roads do not go to. One in particular is one of the nicest resorts in the keys, with rooms starting at 1200 dollars. It was an amazing looking place, with each condo having their own private beach like yard with lawn furniture for two in every one. Seemed like a great honeymooning place. Now, I just have to find the bride that I haven’t started searching for yet. All the other plans so far are in the bag. Maybe I’ll just have to settle for spending a night there by myself.

Just past this island, we got to our destination; one of the only living coral reefs left in the Keys, as most of them are dieing off. We were informed you do not touch ANYTHING in the ocean, but just observe the nature of it. We all bundled up in our snorkel outfits, looking real attractive, jumped in, and about died. Now I can swim and hold my own, but when it comes to sticking my head in water and breathing out of a tube while looked it sharks, stingrays and barracudas, my place is right next to the captain on the boat. I knew I hated this sport, but really wanted to try it again. Once again, I proved to myself that I still can’t relax enough to breath through that stupid tube. I have no problem being in there with the fish, but how much they stressed not touching anything scared the daylights out of me, after each time I kicked him flippers, something hard hit the end of them. How do you honestly keep a size 14 flipper for hitting anything when the water is like 5 foot deep? Therefore, after feeling like a dog swimming around forever with my head up, trying not to die just so I could protect these stupid corals, I got in the boat and took pictures.

After a bit, everyone was called in, and we got out the fishing lines and the bait. This is what I am talking about. I will see the wildlife, but I stay dry and bring them in to see me. Make the fish come into our environment! Quickly, Julie had a bite and pulled in a colorful fish. Suddenly, it seemed like everyone was pulling something in, but nothing was ever big enough to do anything, other that put in an aquarium back home. However, it was fun to see these colorful fish coming out of the water on the pole in MY hand, not one on discovery channel. This part got over, what I thought, too quickly, and we headed on back towards land, but not before stopping at an underwater sand bar that we could finally walk on. We got out and walked around the Atlantic Ocean, towards a small key that was the stereotypical island someone would get stranded on in a cartoon or something. After feeling like an adventurer for a while and seeing the quick movements of fish and sting rays swim past out legs, we loaded the boat up and prepared for the voyage back to land, as well as a lunch prepared by the guides: Mahi-Mahi and a salad bar. I chose the Octopus, which happened to be a hotdog cut like an octopus, but I also was able to get a piece of fish. I still prefer the hotdog!

The tour was a great way to relax out on the water, even if I felt like I was killing the environment while trying to stay alive myself. It was a great opportunity to see how amazing God’s world is that we live in!

Tonight and the rest of the day tomorrow is being spent in silence, to reflect on our lives and how God is working in each and every one of us. To reflect on why we are in Miami and what we are doing for the agencies that we have been placed into to work for the year, or semester in my case. Being silent is one of my worst skills at life, so it will be rather difficult, but something that I think will be food for reflecting and realizing just how great God really is to us!

RETREAT IN THE KEYS DAY 1

2009-12-08T19:58:00.000-08:00

As the day started out, we all had to pack our bags for the weekend away on the first DOOR retreat of the year. Destination…Florida Keys! While packing, thoughts back to my first trip ran through my head. The trip where the bugs ate us alive, and the bites survived my scratching fingers for at least 2 weeks afterwards. However, we would be sleeping in a “condo” compared to a tent this time around. Therefore, packing seemed to be a bit easier this time.

As everyone had everything piled into my house, we took out to Heidi’s house, our director, supervisor and every other name given to one in charge of a group. The six of us would soon start the long drive across bridges and over islands. We set out and had made it about 5 miles when we spotted a man with a huge backpack and a nice little sign with “KEY WEST” printed on. A fifteen passenger van with six Christian Missionary people could not pass by this man, going to the place of his destination, and not pick him up, right? We turned around, and I stepped out of the van to “interview” him to see if he was safe. After two seconds of finding out he was German, and that he was 21, I thought he sounded safe enough and we loaded him up. With our final passenger aboard, we took out for the keys.

Our first stop was for lunch at a favorite of the DOOR house, Alabama Jack’s. A nice, typical hick fishing hole right in the Everglades; the last stop before actually being in the keys. Once again the food proved to us the reason they have won many awards. With Moritz, the man we now found out came to America to travel before going on with his education and who has been in America since September 6 and is staying until mid March, we continued with our plans, discussing a book talking about the diversity in Miami, and how different cultures have proven their ability to take over a major American city and run most of the major positions both politically and in business. He fit in as if he was too, a part of the group. He humored us with many jokes, including asking the waitress if he could sign up somewhere for the bar fights that he had heard they were having. It was much funnier to hear this scrawny German boy with his German accent, asking to sign up for a bar fight. Great humor!

We continued on with him, down a few of the keys until it was time to get our groceries for the trip. As we unload the van, we asked if he wanted to shop with us, or continue on his journey, seeing if he can catch another ride to try and catch the sunset on Key West. It would take us a bit in the store, altering his plans a bit. We bid ourselves goodbye, took a few pictures, and parted in our own directions.

We shopped for a good while, buying all sorts of goods that we can not afford on our poor budget, and even had a little fun doing it. Fun is something that usually does not go along with being in the grocery store. It never is a pleasing even for me. Anyways, after we got out of the grocery store, the first thing I spot is two cop cars, lights flashing, with an innocent looking German figure in front being questioned. Obviously, our friend Moritz was not trusted in these parts. Before anything would go wrong, we rushed over and rescued him from the cops. It really is a great story to be told!

We took him about 20 miles on down the keys with us, protecting him from harms way thus far. We then dropped him off at the last bus station for him to try and get a ride there, once again, parted our ways and left him in the horizon. What a great guy with a great spirit. I will most likely pick up a few more hikers in my life.

We got to our retreat center, a waterfront house on stilts overlooking the beauty of the Keys. After we unpacked everything, we did multiple tests, which seemed to be quite accurate, revealing that I am indeed the person I knew I was, but needed an expert to spend multiple years of his life to develop a formula, just to tell me an others, what we already knew about ourselves. While they seem cool, I already knew these things. It is just more impressive to me how accurate these studies are, and match me 100%. Maybe, just maybe in the future I will understand them a bit more, but at the moment, they just tend to creep me out a bit. These people have never met me, yet, seem to know me. Now, I think I am very extraordinary, and there is no one quite like Isaac Shue, however, this test proved to me that this guy has been secretly stalking me, or there are other very odd balls out wondering the country sides who are just the same as I am. I wish I could come across another number 6 in my life time!

The evening was spent talking about everything and anything from Texas to Iowa, across to North Carolina and down to the Keys. We hit every topic and even sipped a bit of wine from South Africa to go along with it. What a day for adventures, and even more are on their way, I feel, in the next two days here at the keys.

KEEP ON KEEPING ON!

2009-12-05T08:58:00.000-08:00

As the work days come and go, school seems to be like a second nature. You go, teach, every now and then something funny, fun, or rewarding happens, but it feels more like it is such a routine every day that is never broken. However, I am talking about the normal classrooms. Every time I walk into another classroom, it is the same, boring seating arrangement. Same boring lessons. Same kids sleeping in the corner with their books up trying to look interested, and half the time I swear it is the same lessons being taught. It is as if the world is becoming little robots with certain things to teach and learn, only because the books tell you. If it isn't in the book, don't teach it. Life examples no longer are taught, yet, frowned upon because students should not know about our personal lives. Maybe this is just at Yvonne Learning Center, but either way, that is what I am experiencing, and it is getting to the point of exhaustion. Sometimes, however, I envy those classrooms with structure. The ones who can do anything they want in their rooms and it stays that way. Who actually HAVE books to teach out of, and are working with the age or children they are trained to work with. Last year I observed in a Special Education classroom and the teacher, who had been there over 25 years, told me the burn-out rate is 3 years in Special Education. While it seems high, I now know why. Also, that is in the typical Special Education classroom. The one at Yvonne Learning Center is anything but typical, however. While I have been hiding the details, may I fill you in on the reasons the burn-out rate here is about 2 weeks. I am passing the bar by about 16 weeks or so now, and only two to go.

My typical day:

First off, I walk into my classroom that looks like a typical tornado has went through it. Desks are everywhere, accompanied with chairs. Remotes to TV's, DVD players, and every other gadget that has a remote, are lying everywhere, half with batteries in them, half with the batteries littering the floors. Bookshelves are rearranged, table are flipped, my desk and files are nowhere to be found, later realized they are on the floor in the corner. My white board is somewhere else in the school. And chaotic noises fill the corridors as the voices are heard "worshipping" in the back room.

I take about 15 minutes, rearranging everything in the classroom to make it look like a normal learning environment. Re-sweep the floors, making them look presentable again, and make straight lines with desks and chairs, knowing they won't last past the first five minutes of class, as the students think they can sit where they want, moving the desks anywhere. I get out the appropriate books for class, even though no one dares take a book to do assignments or look at during class. Another, obvious waste of time on my part, but I continue on, doing the same everyday. The classroom is finally back to a learning environment, even though the AC is still not turned on.

Next, I walk to the back to catch the last or worship, as kids DON'T worship, but use it as a time to catch up with friends. While it is a Christian school, I am yet to see a Christian act by any student, and by the majority of the staff. It seems like church and Christ are not talked about, except when they are making a point when someone has been bad, but even then it is very atypical. When worship is over, my boys wait in the Middle School class for attendance to be taken then make the trek to my room. A whole ten feet that they always get lost in, and take 15 minutes to do. Sounds like the truth is being stretched, while really, I am being quite lax. It is more like 20 to 30 minutes but I am cutting them a break. This all is before "class" actually starts.

Settling everyone down enough to get out a journal and start writing takes a good 30 minutes. Same for spelling words, and getting out reading books. More time is wasted in this classroom by shear laziness than anything else. Well, this obviously reflects the teacher, right? I suppose it may, I will accept credit, however, I could pull guns on these boys and they still wouldn't move. Not to be funny, but the only thing I found to scare these boys is talk of the KKK. Mention those letters together and they get moving, however, can white guy in a black school really use these letters? Absolutely not. The only time they have been brought up is when they asked if Kansas has the KKK. Other than that, I am too scared, and too respectful to bring this up much more than that. However, it would work to get them moving.

Every once in a great while, I get them all working on something, always to be interrupted by someone in authority at the school, needing something done so they ask my boys. Is it really too much work for an adult to carry three chairs from a room? Here, yes it is! Of course it is my class that is interrupted to do these deeds. Not a class where the students don't have disabilities in reading and need all the time they can get in class. Structure is something that I work on continually, as Special Education needs more structure than any other classroom, however, it is something that is not allowed here. Perhaps the administration needs a lesson on how to write a blog; they call in a specialist on the idea, kick us out of the classroom into the back room, give us chairs from the preschool that are no taller than my ankles, and tell me to teach back there. Are you kidding me? My classroom is taken over multiple times for stupid reasons, not even allowed normal chairs, and I am supposed to teach a child, 16 years old, to read? I don't know any specialist in the world that would be able to pull this task off, let alone, an art major from the country.

Under the strange circumstances, I finally get the boys back on track in the back room, doing our work when the meeting up front is over, and they demand we come back up to the front, once again, stopping all progress on learning. And we aren't even to lunch.

Come 11:30, I am forced outside to watch the lunchroom, even though there is another teacher out there. One they listen to and respect, due to his skin color. Does this sound racist, absolutely, but is it? No way! It is the truth, and nothing more. So why am I forced to sit out there from 11:30-1, and then forced to take a break from 1-1:30 where I can not even see my students? This is 2 hours every day wasted, while my "Special Education" boys just sit in the back room under no supervision. They sit and do nothing, even though they have homework. But here, it would be a sin to do homework at school during free time. Shoot, it would be a sin to do homework at all!

After the break is taken, and everyone is full from lunch, everyone knows that nap time comes. So, my boys are called to the preschool to set up beds for the students because once again, it is not the teachers and administrations responsibility to do this, but the Special Education students in the school's responsibilities. Come 2 o'clock or so, the boys slowly make their way back to my classroom, as I am sitting there like a bump on a log. Quickly, knowing we have no time left, I go to the board and try a simple math lesson, to turn around and find everyone quietly sleeping, or up roaming around like they own the school. I am yet to finish a math lesson in one class period.

Finally, 2:55 comes and it is time to leave. All the students talk about during school is how they want to go home, yet, when the time comes, you can not get them to leave the school. They stay in my room, annoying me as I try to get some work done. I put a broom and mop in their hand and tell them to clean, which lasts for about 10 minutes, and 1/4 of the room. I have never seen someone mop so horribly, but, they think it is doable. Once I get them to leave, I have to stay until 4:15, which drags on longer than the teaching day itself. Before I go, however, if the floor really needs it, I sweep it again and mop it again, making it look very presentable, since it is right near the office. I then line everything up, leaving it the way I want it to look the next morning, with my desk looking like an orderly desk, and desks in straight lines. Why I bother, I don't really know. It is going to be a wreck the next day. But I "keep on keeping on" as my high school football coach told me in a recent email.

"You are making a difference whether you think you are or not. You just got to keep on keeping on!"

These are the words that get me through every day. I never knew how much power a simple phrase from a simple man had, but with them, I am changing the world!

FAMILY NIGHT

2009-12-03T20:30:00.000-08:00

As the weeks come and go, it is hard to keep track of days as they all tend to run together. Between teaching, coaching, weddings, naps, waking up at 4, hospitals and room mates, everything blends together into one big blur. However, we always tend to remember Thursday nights; the nights set aside each week to come together as a house for supper and an evening of fun or learning. However, parent teacher conferences are always held on Thursday nights, and seem to come every three weeks. I have had more parent teacher conferences this year than I ever had as a student in my whole educational career. As I sit listening to the meeting, and meeting with parents, all I could think about was my room mates at home, participating in the most fun "family night" of them all. ELF night!

To get into the Christmas spirit, we have decided to all watch the movie ELF staring Will Ferrell as one of Santa's elves, who is really a human, that travels to NYC to meet his father. It is a classic Christmas movie. I love it, and watch it every year, once, twice or maybe even five times. It never gets old and laughs come out just as hard on the fifth time as the first. But, remember, I am stuck at parent teacher conferences.

I get out of there as soon as I can, and head straight for home, not stopping for any fast food or beach scenes. I can get these any time. But not ELF. Christmas only comes once a year, and I am not missing the first viewing.

As I walk in the door extremely excited, the "family" is around the table eating a Texas Chicken dish, and just finishing their last bites. Thankfully, they had saved a plate for me, as I filled with with the food, and began devouring everything in site, including the freshly cut avocados that never get old. Apparently, the movie had not been started yet, as they WERE waiting for me. This got my adrenaline rolling as I helped get the dishes done so we could watch it. (What a stupid thing to be excited about, BUT...the movie is totally worth it.)

We all sat down, got out the movie and controls, took our seats and began the movie. It proved to be just the same this time as the first, and just as funny. To make the movie more interesting, some of the house mates decided we should make paper snow flakes to go along with the movie. I showed my skill as I made the scissors fly around the edges. Now, after a very (what seemed to be) short movie, we have a house full of snow. Possibly the only house in Miami!

(What a horrible thing to blog about, but the day was about as bland as they have came. Well, the good parts were. I am just getting kind of tired of writing about negative things at school, and wanted a little cheer in my life!)

THE ULTIMATE EXPERIENCE

2009-12-02T20:24:00.000-08:00

When one person signs up to do missions work in a place very unfamiliar, they are signing there life away to unfamiliar territories, as well as unfamiliar situations. This, I feel, would perfectly sum up my experience in Miami over the past few months. Lately, I have been very worried about what I would write new in my blogs, however, each day God surprises me with events that tend to prove I still do have stuff to write about.

With this being a huge part of my SST, I am really wanting to experience as much discomfort as possible, learning about different cultures and things happening in the world. However, come 4:42 this morning, I experience something to the extreme. Something I never thought I would see, and something I think I would feel alright about if I never experienced again. This is it: this is my story of the morning of December 2, 2009. Hold on to your hats, we are going for a ride.

Like experiencing a normal night, I wake up with it still dark outside and grab my phone to see what time it is. Not that I want to know, but more to see how much longer I have to sleep. Through my sleepy eyes, I read a blurry "4:42" on the screen, put it together with the fact it is still dark outside, and realize I have plenty of time to fall asleep and get a bit more rest before the alarm will go off at 7:15. As my head gently lays on my pillow, I hear a faint whisper of words coming from the mouth of JJ, laying just 5 feet from me in his own bed. Not knowing if he heard me moving around, or if he was having a dream, I whispered, "JJ?" just to be responded to with silence. He was sleeping. Possibly having a bad dream. After I was laying back down, approximately 4:45, I hear another noise. This however, is the sound of someone choking, gagging, possibly throwing up. Of course it is JJ. Maybe he is sick? Maybe he is dreaming? Or maybe, just maybe, this guy has a very weird "snore," as I have never heard him snore before. I sit up to see what is going on, but what I see will continue to haunt me during the dark, lonely nights.

This past August, JJ had what they thought may have been a seizure, but there were no witnesses or reports giving them the "ok" to list it as a seizure. But during this episode, his right shoulder was dislocated, making surgery a necessary step in getting it back to normal. Surgery; one that happened only 2 short weeks ago. Since then, he has been in a sling, having very minimal to no movement of his joint. However, they were still uncertain, and a little cautious, about what caused this episode. Therefore, yesterday, JJ spent the day at the hospital doing a 24 hour EEG, monitoring the brain to see if there was any notable activity. However, he made it home and announced they found nothing worth telling him. We were once again lost, wondering, and anxious to know what was going on. We were unaware we would soon have the definite truth.

About 4:47, after the choking and gagging sounds, I cleared the fog out of my eyes, grabbed my cell-phone and lit the back-screen, holding it in the direction to light up JJ's bed. I see his body thrusting violently, up and down, bouncing like a ball off his mattress. Being the responsible EMT that I am, I thought about what I just saw, as JJ laid quietly in his bed, seeming to have good rest now. "Was that a seizure? What just happened?" These were just a couple of thoughts that flooded my brain. I didn't know if I should call 911 or even wake up my room mates, so I just laid there, not wanting to over react if he was only having a dream. I would hate to wake someone up, and them think that I am retarded, waking them up in the middle of the night thinking they were having a serious seizure. So, I just laid there. Possibly five good, long minutes. Then, more puking sounds. More gasping for air. At this moment, I sat up and sat on the edge of my bed, watching as if I were in the front row of a Broadway musical. Then, his body rolled over, his arm came ripping out of his sling, and his head turned towards me revealing his eyes half open, but showing nothing but white. Then, once again, like being triggered by electric shock, his body started jerking around, going from the wall to the edge of the bed, throwing his new shoulder around in ways I cant even move my own shoulder. This man was going crazy. I spring into action, run to Julie's room, and softly tap on her door. A nice, moaning, "What?" came out of the room. "Julie, come out here," I said as I didn't want to shout through the door and scare her. "No, what is going on?" "JJ! JJ is having a seizure!" At that moment, her door, as well as Erin's flew open as they came out and went straight to my room. We all stood in the door, witnessing the last seconds of his second (that we witnessed) seizure. His body was still shaking and moaning around the bed. Then, like powered by a switch, he stopped.

We wanted to turn on the lights, but didn't want to startle him, so we turned on the lamps, slowly getting them brighter until we could turn on the lights, revealing JJ laying unconscious on his bed. After the lights were on for a bit, his eyes opened, but it was the most blank, scared look I have ever received from a person. It was obvious this guy didn't know what was going on. He could not answer any questions. He didn't know who anyone was. He was very alone and very scared.

He sat up, watching us, but didn't know what to do. We had called the ambulance and was just waiting for them to show up. As we talked with JJ, asking simple questions that he had no response to, the red and blue lights came around the corner and I went out to meet the ambulance. Three men came rushing, although that that fast, into our house and I showed them the room. JJ sat there with the blank look, wondering who the strange men were. "Hey," he said, with a very childish tone and grin on his face. He obviously didn't know what was going on, or who they were, but wanted to be kind, and welcome them to his room. The whole time that they were asking questions, he gave (brain damaged) answer, making us laugh, yet, feel bad for laughing.

JJ tried to stand and walk away, but when the EMT asked where he was going he had no answer. "Sit down sir," the EMT demanded. JJ looked very confused, then, gave a very funny look to us all, threw his hand up straight into the air, gave a careless moan, and fell straight backwards into his bed like a little kid throwing a fit. This man was making a scene. One I wish I had on camera. Words can not explain the humor this guy was unknowingly causing us. While we were scared and no one laughed, I think down inside we were all snickering a bit.

The walked him, stumbling, to the front door where they met him with the stretcher, loaded him up and took him to the ER. We sat at the front table as the sun was coming up, pondering about what we had all just experienced. Should we go to the hospital? We all have work in an hour, but at what point does a room mates health over power the responsibilities of a volunteer job? Is it bad to tell a boss you cant make work because your room mate just had a few grand mal seizures while you helplessly watched in awe? I decide this seems very reasonable, so I get ahold of work, tell them I will be late, and take off to the ER.

Julie and I arrived to find JJ being his normal self. As we walked in, he had a smile on his face, happy to see us. It was good to hear him call us by name. The neurologist was at his side, questioning him until we came and found out I was an eyewitness. Therefore, he chose the more reliable source, and asked me to replay the events of the night out loud for him. After my short speech, including hand gestures, pelvic thrusting, and throwing of my arms, he turned to JJ and said, "There is no longer any question. You are having seizures."

Why we have to go through this to find out he is indeed having seizures is more than I can know, but leaves us wondering what God has planned for our house, and specifically JJ, as he lays in the hospital wondering, "Why him?" Is there some sort of lesson we are learning, or something we are all being prepared for? I wish it would just all make sense, and be done with. And, for the sake of JJ, I wish it would all just get figured out quickly, so the right measures could be made and get him back to his healthy self.

The last I heard, he was doing fine, as he was watching the History channel in his hospital room. They are keeping him to watch for 24 hours, making sure everything is a little more normal before releasing him back to our care. Now, with hopefully a little more answers, I hope life can get back to normal for JJ, especially with his arm. Hopefully, the little bout of physical therapy that he gave it today was not too much, causing him to have more surgery. But, from all of this, I now understand how someone can dislocate an arm while sleeping and have no recollection of how it happened. Our bodies are miraculous machines!

ONCE AGAIN...

2009-12-01T18:41:00.000-08:00

Laying on my bed, the clock reads 5:32 PM or something close by as I look at my homepage on facebook. I notice, out the left corner of my eye, a glowing circle hovering just above the rooftops of the neighboring houses out my window. Facing the Eastern coast, the glow, later, proves to be that of the full moon rising into the deep, navy sky. Suddenly, answers start flowing from the moon, along with its brilliant image, straight to my head. Why was today one of the worst days of my short teaching career?

School, once again, managed to come in the morning, which means a school full of rambunctious children ready to learn. Or, because their parents want them to attempt to learn, yet, not want to be a big enough part of their lives to show interest in their educational lives. Go figure! This extremely sad fact really is seeming to catch up with me, as working with the parents and children seems more and more difficult each day. Why do parents still breast feed their children (not really, but figuratively speaking) when they are 16 years old.

Today, once again, was the day that grades, or progress reports, were going out. And, once again, grades seemed to be less important to anyone in my class than the gum they spread on the back of my chair when I was in Illinois this past weekend. How to get people to care about their grades seems almost impossible. Currently, however, I am wondering why I even care so much. A grade is only a letter. Anyone can get a "grade," but not everyone can learn.

While my boys really got under my skin today, I noticed something huge. They are not making grade, but the change that has occurred in their education since day one has jumped, not just to the next level, but quite possibly 3 or 4 levels. My main goal was to get these boys reading when I started on that scary day just four or so months ago. Now, with ten days left for me to be in the classroom teaching, these boys are asking to come read aloud to me, and in front of the class. They are wanting everyone to see that they can sound out any word, big or small, and get the right annunciation of it, even if they still don't know exactly what it means. Finally reaching this goal, I must work on these boys to learn context clues, helping them define those words in a reading that they do not know. Is this possible in ten days? Is it possible to get 4 boys to be able to read in three months after they haven't read for 16 years? I love it when I have goals and dreams that seem unimaginable, then knock them out!

Ten days to do the unthinkable. These boys, even though they do not make the grade their parents are wanting, or act like they want when they come and yell at me for giving D-'s, are going to understand what they read. This is a sentence I never thought I would be able to blog about. Praise God! Through all the difficulties and discouraging days, I am starting to see the glass filling up instead of evaporating. For once, when leaving the school mad, I still left with a smile deep down inside.

BACK TO REALITY

2009-11-30T21:02:00.001-08:00

It is sort of weird to say I am, "Back to reality" as my plane lands in Ft. Lauderdale just an hour or so ago. What a real rough life to be where it is still 80 degrees outside, even though the sun has been down most likely 7 hours already. However, I recently realized, is where you sleep the majority of your nights and have a job to go to every morning. But shouldn't Florida be a vacation? A place where only fun things happen, with no worries at all?

Being in Illinois and Indiana this past week, with all my good friends and family around, has really made me appreciate them all a lot more. It is the people you are surrounded with that makes the places you are at amazing, or terrible. Hearing my brother, who moved into to Bermuda where he knows no body, say this, I wondered how he possibly could mean it. He lives in paradise, but seems unhappy at times. Yet, I also recently moved to "paradise" yet, and not experiencing paradise. I feel like I did experience a bit of paradise this weekend, even in rainy and cold Goshen/Chicago/Champaign, Illinois. Why? Because it felt like home. I was surrounded by ones I love, and who love back. I had no worries. It was a priceless week. Even though I was not constantly having fun, constantly comfortable, or experiencing breathtaking sights, I still had a great time. One I would, "write home about!"

I am excited to be back in Miami, with the people I am learning to love, however, it IS back to work and reality for the next month of my life as I finish up DOOR very soon. I look forward to everything that I am quickly going to miss. I count down the days, but I don't know why. Is it to go back to school where I will quickly start counting down the days there as well, or is it just to move on to something new. If either one of these are true, or both, I know it is to return to my paradise, of being with those who treasure my presence as much as I treasure theirs, and I simply can not wait.

As I go back to school tomorrow, I look forward to jumping over the last hurdle I will face for the year, and try to finish the race stronger than I started it. I hope I can walk away from this place with people saying I taught them as much as they have taught me. An experience like DOOR, while it ends physically, is one that will continue to help build me as a person through the rest of my physical life on Earth, and I am just as anxious to continue on with it, as I am to end it. I pray that I can finish my year off with a smile, remembering all the good that came out of my adventure!

THANKSGIVING

2009-11-29T11:03:00.000-08:00

I roll out of bed with a smile on face, ready to fly to Chicago to go see all my friends. Thanksgiving, for the first time, would be spent with no family, yet, mostly by myself in airports.

Alicia drove me to Ft. Lauderdale early in the morning to catch my flight into Chicago Midway. Not really thinking, I had thrown on my shorts and flip-flops to fly in; comfort, both wearing and weather wise. I usually don’t throw on jeans and bundle up when it is 85 degrees outside. This would seem smart until a bit later in the trip: obviously!

As I checked in, I noticed that I was in the very last spot to board the plane. Southwest has a system that gives you a number, then you line up in that order, then board the plane and take the seat of your choice. Being the last I didn’t have much of an option. However, I did spot an exit row seat empty next to a larger older couple so I took it. It was the most leg room I have ever had on a flight. Only bad part was, this man was large and loved to talk. While being squished against the window, I managed to make space for conversation.

After 4 tiring hours, I finally got to Chicago, and back on my own without the “couple” protecting me as if I needed protection from two 80-year olds. Come on! I live in the ghetto of Miami! Oh well, I shouldn’t complain that someone is looking out for me. After collecting my bags I sat and waited for an hour until Nate could pick me up and continue the trip to Champaign, IL to get him hitched.

While I have grown up in Kansas for 22 years and been in Miami only 3 months, I was extremely weird to drive through Illinois and see nothing but fields. I never knew you could be converted to a different place so fast. This place is just so desolate. The only skyscrapers I see are elevators and the only people to look at are white and speak English. Something I have not been around for quite some time, but I must say, it is finally comforting to speak English to anyone you know and KNOW that they will be able to respond. Never in my dreams did I think I would feel a slight but uncomfortable being surrounded by white people. (Not that anything would be bad in this situation obviously, but with what I have learned in my time down in Miami, it is just weird to not see any diversity.)

The rest of the evening was spent catching up with friends and eating Burger King, which, happens to be the only thing I ate for Thanksgiving this year. Twice. Burger King for lunch as well as supper! I saved a turkey this year!

THANKSGIVING DINNER??? I MISS MY MOMMY!

2009-11-24T21:04:00.000-08:00

Snow, family, fun, football, cold, hot drinks, smell of candy and things baking. These are all things that symbolize the greatness of the Thanksgiving Holiday that is just around the corner. It is always a festive time, especially one, full of food. When Thanksgiving comes, it is always fun to see how many different Thanksgiving meals you are going to get. Grandma, mom, an aunt's, a simple school lunch, and maybe one or two others. The taste of turkey and stuffing is something everyone always looks forward to. Being in Miami away from all family, I did not know if anything would be done on Thanksgiving for me, or around this time. Then, word spread around school of a Thanksgiving Feast that was going to occur on this Tuesday, November 24! I could not wait. I WAS going to get to eat a Thanksgiving meal. Little did I know, I would soon be eating something I never would forget.

Before I say anything, I must say, after eating everything, it was a very good meal that had the best taste I could ever ask for. What makes it memorable may be what exactly I ate, or how something was prepared.

We had mothers come in and decorate the school while the children diligently worked, trying to sneak a peek every now and then around the divider to see what was going on. Everyone was in good spirits as they happily waited to indulge in the festivities we had planned, starting with the Feast of Feasts. As I pondered around the food area, I was very impressed with displays of turkeys, all dressed to look spectacularly delicious to anyone who looked at them. Two turkeys to be exact; making sure everyone had their fill plus more. Smells circled the school, making everyone more hungry as they waited. Finally the time had came, and children started the line a class at a time. While they wanted to dish everything up themselves, the mothers did it like an old fashioned lunch line at Harper Elementary as the plates were passed down the line, then handed to the student at the end. They then proceeded to their desks and ate in the classrooms with their friends close by. After everyone had finished, I got in line, hoping for a heaping plate since everyone had been through. I got exactly what I wanted. As they filled my plate, I kindly declined the macaroni salad and something else that didn't look so swell, so I just said I was allergic to it. Worked like magic. I got my plate, and took my excited stomach to my room and sat in some peace and quiet. Many colors flooded my plate and I tried picking what to eat first. The bright pink and white cranberry Jell-O salad and whipped cream salad was obviously the best choice. Especially since they had given me two helpings. I loaded my spoon with a mouth full, opened wide and clamped down trying to savor every single ounce of it. At that moment, my taste buds sent shocks through my spine alerting me that something was wrong. My sweet taste buds that had been so finely prepared were thrown for a loop when something completely different was present in my mouth. While in many homes I have been in over Thanksgiving, cranberry something is on the table and a tradition. However, I suppose this has something to do with Haitian-American culture, they believe that pickled-egg potato salad should replace the cranberry, giving onlookers false hope of receiving a nice dish. Instead, this...STUFF....was served to me, punishing me for assuming too much. I could have died!

After I cleaned the puke up off the ground (This is a joke. Once I realize what it was, I ate it and it was fine, just not my Jell-O salad I was craving) I proceeded to the turkey. I had not slabs like I am used to it being cut into, but chunks. So, I took a chunk, inserted into my mouth and chomped down again. After this I immediately was looking up my cousin Erin Johnson's (a dentist) phone number. For it felt like every tooth was broken off into my mouth. Apparently, the knives they used are sharp enough to filet right through bone, cutting the turkey into a grid or something, avoiding taking the bones out. Why take them out when we can cut through them? Well, fine! OK! I understand your concern! Just please, next time, let people know this is not a traditional Thanksgiving Feast. Please and thank you!

Since I have no teeth, I proceed onto the mashed potatoes since I don't really have to chew them. Quickly, I decide this too was not a good idea, as the stuff in my mouth tasted like mashed potatoes, yet, was something very, extremely cold. Almost frozen. I did not want to say anything because I want to be culturally polite. So, I do the next best thing. Find Alicia, the only other white person within 20 miles, who happens to be the secretary and ask her about it. She informs me that it is indeed mashed potatoes, but when she tried to heat them up, she got yelled at so she just set them on the table. I should have realized that I was the last person through, and no one had touched these potatoes. Usually a sign of some sort, so, I took mental note of that one too.

As the meal was slowly declining, I decided to stick to the black beans and rice they had prepared, as well as the fried plantains, a traditional Haitian meal. It...was...SPECTACULAR! I should have just stuck to three plate-fulls of this instead.

After downing the last of my plate, someone asked if I wanted sweet potatoes also. While I love sweet potatoes, I kindly declined wondering if they were even orange or sweet or even potatoes. I was 2 for 5 on guessing what things were so I was going to stick to my current odds and turn it down. I think I made the right choice!

To refresh everyone...The meal was very good and lots of work was put into the meal to prepare it. I may sound ungrateful, yet, I was not at all. I was so happy that the time, energy, and most of all love was put into making this feast. It is just, when working with different cultures, things are prepared different ways. When it is a thing like Thanksgiving dinner, that everyone is used to their own traditions, it is hard not to get expectations that it is going to be mom's mashed potatoes with ranch and cream cheese. This by far was the best meal we have had this year at YLC, it would have just been better with an instruction packet on how to properly consume each thing on the plate!

DECISIONS! WOW...

2009-11-23T20:04:00.000-08:00

I really thought I left everything at home as I left Kansas just three short months ago. I thought everything would be totally new. A new culture, new food, new language, new habits and definitely new people, however, something has been proven to be the same. Kids all around the world still want to make stupid decisions, and are still trying to make the same excuses I thought I invented in school.

Being quite a young teacher, I still understand the ways kids are thinking, their habits, attitudes, and how they all change on the spur of the moment, just depending what is going on. Yet, they all seem so impressed when I catch them doing something, or not doing something. For example, I heard someone chewing on something today and told them to spit it out. Since I was not looking at them, they could not figure out how I knew they were chewing on something. They revealed it was sunflower seeds, so I told them to spit all of them out and empty their pockets. I got back to work on the board, not watching them as I figure being 16 years of age, I don't need to walk them to the trash. While writing, I heard one small thing fall in the trash and the student return to their seat. Without turning around, I told them to go back and spit them ALL out. Once again, they were so impressed that I could tell that without seeing them.

Like I said earlier, these kids think everything was reinvented by them, even though excuses and the same behavior has been around since before my parents were here. If they only knew the high school I went to, and what all went on "behind the scenes" there, they would quickly learn that they are not so tough, and "street smart" as they think they are. They have never been offered weed at school or taken shots on breaks at their lockers. Or have they?

Today I was in a hurry to get reading books to the boys and didn't want to put up with them slowly getting out of their chairs and walking to their bags, therefore, I went to their bags to get them for them instead. At the sight of me grabbing his bag, one student jumped up yelling that I had no business looking in his bag. At this moment, while it doesn't take a NASA engineer to figure out, I knew there was something being hidden that was not school appropriate. Possibly another knife to use on the teacher, or if I was lucky, a gun that would take care of me instantly, leaving no pain or suffering. By his startled reaction, I found it very necessary for him to stay in his seat while I searched. He found it necessary to try and get the bag from me, but once again I proved to them that they can not out power their teachers, or outsmart them. After a simple glare (This boy is the weakest boy in the class, and the biggest softy in the school. However, he tries so hard to act tough, but is only laughed at by his peers) he decided to back down and let me search.

Now usually, I would just do a brief, slide-my-hand-in-each-pocket" search, but I knew something was sitting inside waiting to be pulled out. Anymore, students' bags have about 30 pockets, just asking for them to hide something from a teacher, specifically a weapon. After opening pocket 29 I still found nothing and thought that I may have over reacted or over read his actions. However, I was not about to have another knife blade pulled out in my classroom. I don't need my face flashed around CNN for the next week. As I opened the last pocket, there was a strange little bottle sticking out. Now in Haitian culture, and possibly African-American as well, these young boys have just as many accessorizing bottles as girls I know. They all have lotion, hair spray, brushes and all, making my room turn into a beauty salon every day. I just figured it was another bottle of lotion, so I decided to put it down. After dropping it, I thought it would be funny to see what scent of lotion this boy uses, so I picked it up, unscrewed the cap, and took a whiff. After all my nose-hairs grew back and I was able to see straight again, I realized this was indeed NOT lotion, but a bottle of alcohol. When asked, they were all quick to respond the same name of the Haitian cocktail, but neglected to tell me any alcohol was present. I took it around to Haitian teachers and they were all in shock, knowing exactly what it was. A home mixed drink made with coconuts and other tropical juices and I believe vodka. When asked, he admitted he brought it to drink at lunch, but had no idea it had alcohol. Of course he didn't know alcohol was in it! Only the reason he admitted to stealing it from his parents cabinet. After a long talking to, and tears were cleared up, his parents were called to the school and I had a big meeting with his mother and him, as he stood with tears flowing out of his tightly clenched eyes. "You just wait till your dad gets home!" (Another similarity between cultures, or maybe the world. No kid in the world wants to be home when his father hears that he took some booze to school.)

While this was a very illegal move, the cops or authorities were not notified, but taken care of between the school, parents and myself. It is so weird to be part of, let alone in charge, of big issues like this, giving a very stern speech to a young man about how this could effect his life both physically and politically for the rest of his life. It seems like only yesterday I was sitting in school, listening to motivational speakers talking to us after a huge party was busted. God has put me in some weird situations this past semester that I never thought I would be in. Yet, I am loving every minute more and more!

THE GIFT OF FAMILY

2009-11-22T19:25:00.000-08:00

With the sun shining brightly and temperatures reaching to the upper eighties, it seemed to be a great day to go to the beach and get some much needed relaxation. The weekend has been very lively, reaching into the wee hours of each night. For me, it has definitely been the latest hours I have stayed up since coming down South. Therefore, why not go to the beach and try to catch an afternoon nap while getting some rays? Having two weddings in the next month, both near the Chicago area, I have told myself I WILL be the darkest person at these weddings! Well, darkest Caucasian. Living in Miami, there is no reason I should not have the best tan of my life. What would I tell people when they ask why I have no color to my skin? Therefore, like I always procrastinate, I am trying to hit the sandy beaches as much as possible in the next few days, and today proved to be a great day to get color. Lots of it. A nice, warm, red color all over the front half of my body.

After being at the beach most the day, my parking tolls were running out, forcing me to pay more or just return home. Today, Megan's family was to arrive, so I decided to just come back to the house and meet the McCarty gang. After returning home, I noticed Megan's car to be gone, then found out I had just missed them as they headed to the beach. I called Megan and she had just been honking at a huge van in South Beach, thinking it was me, later to realize it was a vacuuming company, or some sort of cleaner. We got a good laugh out of that. This gave me a chance to come home, catch up on some sleep and get cleaned up before they got back.

For dinner, we all went out to Havana Harry's, the local Cuban joint just to the south of our house a few miles. It was my first time to the restaurant, yet, proved to be one worth going back for. We all enjoyed huge plates full of tons of food, then shared god fellowship as we sat around the table and chatted for a bit before leaving.

It is fun to get to know the family of a room mate, as I am the only one that has had a guest in the house thus far. Stories always help one realize where a person came from, but meeting the important people in their lives sparks a deeper respect for where they came from and shows us who they came from. They will be in Southern Florida for the whole week, but are leaving the house for the Keys in the morning.

MY THIRD HOME

2009-11-21T21:00:00.000-08:00

Being in Florida, which I will now call my second home, I have really grown accustomed to what is surrounding me. Lots and lots of buildings, surrounded and filled with people of every color and culture imaginable. I heard there are about 60+ languages spoken around Miami, with each obviously having a different culture. In these cultures, there are also subcultures, dividing the people even more diversely. To get away from all the chaos of the matter, why not get away to a place where you are guaranteed to be back in my own culture, or, a subculture of the English language, and one not far from that of Harper County.

I have taken a liking to the Everglades and have started finding myself out there quite bit. A little "home away from home" if you will. Going on fan-boat rides has became an occurrence that I didn't really think about doing before coming out here. I have now been aboard three different boats touring parts of the Everglades. And, every boat ride tends to be a bit different.

Having a great experience with my parents at one just a few weeks ago, the female room mates and myself went back there, and took a ride. While we went on a cold day in the past, today was nice, with a temperature of about 85 degrees. It was a perfect day to be on a boat, and even better day to sun if you are an alligator.

While waiting in line to get on the boat (or maybe we were on it, I don't remember) a loud truck drove by with a HUGE confederate flag waving behind it as the driver hung out the window and yells, "GET DRUNK AND HAVE FUN!" This was the first clue that we no longer were in the city. There is no way this guy would still be breathing had he done that anywhere near Miami City Limits. After sharing a little laugh and a little flashback from high school, we got on with the trip. As we took out, the tour guide started sliding the boat around giving us a real fun and memorable ride. He also proved to have some really good (lame puns) jokes. However, he was a lot of fun, but it was hard to know when he was serious. He stopped and told the ones with shorts (My room mates and I) to get in. Well, who really gets in alligator infested water when someone says to. I hesitated a bit, then jumped in. Why not? Only really have the chance once, or in my case, every other weekend. The water was nice and chilly, feeling pretty good on this warm day. The ground below the water was quite different, as it felt like walking on a sponge. While it was knee deep, it allowed us to wade around close to the boat, within jumping distance if we saw the spikes on the back of an alligator coming at us. After a few pictures and laughs, we tried to get in the boat, but my first step, I landed in a sink hole and went in up to mid thigh, soaking my shorts! I was sure I was going all the way in, but managed to grab hold of an arm, and got pulled it.

After safely getting in the boat, we took out across the Everglades, going through grass and trees. Finally the captain stopped telling us he sensed a gator close by. Suddenly, a huge head popped out from under our boat and an 8-foot gator swan out from under us and climbed into the grass by our sides. It was AWESOME! He was so big, yet, seemed so tame. It was all I could do not to reach out and grab his tail. We continued on, seeing about 10 more gators, 15 more turtles, hundreds of birds and all different forms of wildlife like fish and bugs. While the first two trips could have been more eventful in terms of seeing things, this one really made up for it, as it seemed like I was on a crew filming Planet Earth.

Afterwards on the way home we stopped at a BBQ joint that looks real junky (which is the universal sign for the best tasting food!) It proved to be quite good, as I got a gator burger and fries. What a great way to end a day on the water surrounded by the giant lizards.

FINALLY FRIDAY!

2009-11-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

Once again, the loved weekend has drawn close again, only having to survive another day at school. And when I say survive, it is not a word to be throw around to sound funny. It is a serious matter. I actually do "survive" each and every day that I leave that building. There are some days I honestly don't think I will come out alive and surviving is proven to be a skill, not a given.

Over the past few weeks, I have had several conferences with the principal and administration of the school, a.k.a the Beauregard family. In these meetings, we have discussed the future of the 5 young boys in my class that I work with every day. While they are falling behind in every class listed on the grade card, Mrs. Beauregard believes that these individuals only need to focus on reading. I am instructed to teach only phonics, spelling, reading, writing and a bit of math. When they decide they want to read, and finally catch on to it, she believes everything else will come with time, but their reading skills really need to develop soon or they never will. To put this into action, I have taken Social Studies and Science almost completely out of my class. This is very hard to do as they are some of my favorite subjects and ones that I feel I can teach better than Reading. However, I am listening to the administrative decisions and going on with teaching Reading. During each day, we spend about and hour or two working only on our spelling words, breaking them up into syllables, looking at letter combinations and when they appear in other words, long and short vowels and what makes them this way, as well as definitions and actually using these words in sentences. This tends to be the hardest for them to do. They can all memorize the spelling of the word long enough to pass the test, but actually making them put them to use in a sentence is what sinks their boat on each test. Therefore, we put tons of effort into getting them to do that this week.

Early Friday morning, I have them all study a bit on their own as I finish us with some grading then start to help them. We go over sentences, definitions and actual spellings. I show them a few ways that helped me growing up, such as making acrostics. (I think it is called acrostics) This really seemed to help them. Nervous about if they were going to make the same grades of F's that they have all year, I had them clear their desks and get out some paper. I started giving words, demanding that I only repeat them once, making them pay close attention.

After giving all the words, I gave them a while to write a sentence per word and waited patiently for them to finish. After getting them all turned in, I started the grading process. Usually I use about a pen-full worth of ink to grade their tests each week. I got my fresh pen out and went to work.

My two best students' tests were on the top, proving to be once again the highest in the class. Out of 20 possible points they missed about 3 each, but nailed the extra credit, giving them A's. The first time ever. Then came my two worst students who have never received an A on anything except lunch. After checking a few wrong, they got upset cause they really believed they had done good. Cursing me, they turned and walked away swearing that "I" always give them bad grades. I grade to hard. (Personally, I don't understand how checking a word wrong because it is misspelled is being to tough, but hey, to each their own.) As they walk away, I am tickled silly to actually see they had the rest of the test correct, even the extra credit.

For the first time this year, I handed out 0 F's, 0 D's, 1 C, 2 B's and and A (One boy was not there for the test). I have never been more proud for a group of people as I was standing there in my classroom. For once I felt as if my work had been completed for a bit. Maybe this is one of those moments teachers talk about where you just have a smile because you know that you have done something to change a person. It is something like that, that makes me excited to get back to work and give them more words to see if they can keep it up. My weekend has been that much better due to 5 boys actually trying in my class!

WATCHFUL EYES

2009-11-20T12:14:00.000-08:00

Yvonne is a very family oriented school. It is part of their mission to get the parents of each child involved in their child's life, especially their educational life. In Little Haiti, and from what I observed while at Haiti, people do not put much time towards worrying about their children's education. They more are worried how they are going to survive, and, paying money to school and going to check on their children is near the bottom of the "to do" list for the day. School was never a big point for the parents, therefore, they don't see the need to support their children or their school either.

In attempt to change this Yvonne requires each parent to come to school and volunteer at least 30 hours per year. If this time is not fulfilled in the time that school is in session, they are required to pay a fee of about 130 dollars or so. To volunteer 30 hours in 10 months, this is not asking much. As far as my students go, I have not seen one parent come to school to volunteer time. We have a student in first grade that is a little terror and never gets anything done. He also keeps others from getting work done. His mom now comes three times a week and it is amazing the changes that boy has made. He is now getting A's on his report card. This helps to prove that when an adult puts interest in their children, they tend to do better. With my class, there is no parental help or guidance at all. However, Thursday morning, I turned around to find Mrs. Beauregard in my class with a parent, saying he was volunteering for the morning. Finally, a parent is trying to make a difference in my class. I was excited.

Growing up, whenever a volunteer was in the class, they were put to work, helping students with homework, helping watch the class; you know, just another set of eyes to keep everything in line. I thought this was going to be great. I let the parent know what we were doing, thinking he would jump in to help. However, he pulled up a chair, sat at the edge of the room and just watched. No smile, no frown, no movement, just staring. I didn't know if he was staring at his kid, using the silent treatment to get him to work, or staring at me, trying to make me nervous, but this is how I took it.

Now I have never had anyone watch me teach that knows anything about it. Not one adult has watched me teach, not even sat in for five minutes. Every now and then and adult or Mrs. Beauregard will walk through, but never stop and listen for a bit. Therefore, this made me quite nervous to have another adult in the class, possibly judging my teaching style. having another set of "watchful eyes" in the classroom is always enough to make a teacher be on THEIR "A" game. Talk about pressure! Even though these parents can barely speak much English, it is still very hard for me to not think that he is sitting there just ripping my style apart. Had he been helping do something I think the butterflies would have escaped out my mouth in one burp, however, he just sat and stared. Almost like a certain doll that lives in the basement where I spent the nights growing up; just sitting and staring at anything that walked by. These guys eyes didn't blink one time in the hour he sat there. I have never seen anything like it. It was as if someone had painted his face on, because it did not move. Even the slightest smile would have made me feel better.

Finally, I put it aside and went on. This seemed to help, as I walked around the room more, noticing he wasn't even really paying attention to me. He seemed to be more hypnotized than anything else. Possibly asleep with his eyes open. And work was easier.

After almost forgetting he was there, a large hand was thrust in my face, making me jump as if someone had shocked me with a cattle prod. "It was very nice to be in your class today. I look forward to coming back next week!" I shook the hand dangling in front of me and saw him to the door. With the "slam" of the door shutting, my class instantly turned back into the monkey cage at the zoo as boys were everywhere. However, when the swinging monkeys were threatened to write lines they calmly turned back into studious boys and stuck their noses in their books. Feelings of freedom came down on me for the rest of the day, and possibly, the rest of the year.

ASSEMBLE!

2009-11-18T19:21:00.000-08:00

Growing up in school, every now and then we would all be herded into the gym or auditorium because we had a guest speaker coming to change the world, one small school at a time. It was always a great time away from the class for us to listen to yet, another great person that did something great with their lives that was going to help us change into perfect little angels that never caused any trouble, giving our lives color. Well, while we gradually changed to black and white little children, the students at my school have lives filled with every color in the rainbow. And, after being there three months, sometimes it is hard to think they are ever going to get rid of those colors. Which can be a good thing sometimes. Who wants to live in a black and white perfect world?

Today we had an assembly, YLC style. Since there is no gymnasium, auditorium and hall in our school, we put all the kids into our largest classroom, which is actually two classrooms divided with a simple divider. The whole school, except the preschool and kindergartners came together to listen to a woman talk about November 18; the day that Haiti fought the start of the battle that soon became their independence. It was fun being one of the only two white people listening to a big presentation about the slaves revolting to win their independence. This was the second time that the lady has been here, as she talked about the Haitian people being slaves from Africa, but then continued her presentation today, and will wrap it all up later in the year.

Watching these kids listen as their history is revealed to them is so exciting, as they all have smiles on their faces and actually sit and listen. The first time she came, the kids were a little disrespectful, yet, today, they all did much better as they knew that she really was a good presenter.

While it was good to have this lesson, as for the rest of the day it was hard to work with. With the whole morning taken for the presentation, there was absolutely no learning being done. Then, come the afternoon, the students all just want to take naps, wasting their time and mine. Teaching in the afternoon is almost impossible, as no one will listen. Therefore, today, while very easy for me, was a waste of time.

Every Wednesday we have a teachers meeting after school and Mrs. Beauregard decided to have each teacher do a lesson for the other teachers, showing how they do in their classroom. Today, obviously, was my day. I had a week to prepare and didn't think about it until the middle of the ladies presentation. I had nothing to do it with, so thought back to my days in school. I decided to do a lesson on color, being an art major. I was going to make the color wheel out of food coloring and water, as well as bringing in some Science showing how and why the colors spread at different speeds. After school, Samir and I rushed to the supermarket to buy the coloring. However, they didn't have any so we went to the Jell-O aisle to use it instead. After tracking it all down, we discovered there was no blue, so the plans changed. We went to the soda aisle and finally found a blue soda, yellow and red soda. We took them back and WHAM! it all worked perfectly! The presentation went well and everyone seemed to be impressed as they all learned. (Only Alicia knew anything about colors...unless everyone else was faking dumb.)

JUST PART OF LITTLE HAITI LIFE

2009-11-17T19:56:00.000-08:00

"What happens when you die?" I hear as I am sitting grading papers. After being sick, and still a little light headed, I am just trying to make it through the day and it is only 9 in the morning. After getting no answer I hear it again. "Mr. Isaac. What happens when you die? Like, what happens to you, not your body, but like you?"

Where do these kids go to school? They have been going to the same Christian school now for three years, and they don't know what happens when you die? How could this be? "Well, you can go to Heaven, or Hell I guess, just depending on the person." After this it was quiet. Relatively quiet I guess, but the subject was dropped.

Periodically through the day, someone would bring it back up. What a weird question to be asking. Are they planning on dying or something? Why are they asking about death all of a sudden? After thinking this for just a bit, it hit me why they were asking with the following conversation with my student Maxsteven.

"They got him in the forehead, Mr. Isaac!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"My homeboy! They got him in the forehead!"

"Who? What? Who got who in the forehead?"

"My homeboy got cracked in the forehead this weekend! They capped him!"

"He is dead?"

"Yea, of course. He got shot right in the forehead. He is dead Mr. Isaac."

After talking for a bit, they all chimed in informing me that one of their friends, specifically Max's, was shot an killed just a block from the school on Friday. However, no one seemed effected by it. And surprisingly, I wasn't either. When first coming to Miami, hearing about a murder anywhere in the city frightened me. It was very scary how much crime was here, especially near where I was to work. Now, it doesn't even effect me. Someone was shot a block from where I work, roughly about 5 hours after I left and it doesn't even shock me anymore. This, I think, is more shocking to me than the actual fact this young boy's life was taken over a drug deal. After dealing with it and hearing about it everyday, you just come immune to these things. You may not think so, but everyone at the school is about the same way. "It's just another person getting shot. No big deal. Happens every day around here. Thats part of Little Haiti life!"

For the rest of the day, I take it easy in class as I notice no one can really pay attention. While they try to act tough, as if nothing happened, I can tell they are all thinking about their friend. I promise them if they can pay attention through a short math lesson, we will have McDonald's. Little did they know I already had it in the microwave for them staying warm, and I would give it to them no matter what, but they think they are getting rewarded, which is the plan.

Working in ghetto has really opened my eyes in a way I never thought they would be opened. So many lessons can be taught to a teacher in school that somedays I really wonder just who the real teachers are. I truly feel I am learning much more from these boys than I could ever teach them!

SICKNESS SETS IN

2009-11-16T18:39:00.000-08:00

Being sick is never fun, but come 3 AM this morning, I found myself wrapped around the toilet, letting my inner juices be released. What caused it, I don't know, but all I can think about is driving my room mate across Miami at 6 AM to his surgery appointment for his shoulder. That was going to be a miserable trip like this. And work? What to do about work? I don't want to call off, so I put that in the back of my mind until the time comes to actually make a decision.

As I fall back asleep, I am in and out, of sleep and the bathroom for the rest of the night. Head pounding, I stumble around my dark room trying to make up my stomachs mind whether it wanted to stay in the bathroom, or stay and sleep, but it never did.

The alarm wakes us early, as I still feel puny, but strong enough to take JJ. We go, and upon arrival I am aching to get back and reunite with the bathroom again. What has gotten into me? I do not feel sick, just can't stop this stuff! I dial the numbers of my principal's cell and find her at home, getting ready for school (I think). I tell her there is not way to make it to school, and she understands completely, as we don't want sickness going through the students.

The day was filled with much reading and relaxing, for the most part. Sprinting to the bathroom every half hour was my only exercise. I surprised JJ when he was dropped off by a coworker, and tell him I stayed home to be a good room mate and take care of him. I think he thought I was serious, cause I played nurse the rest of the day. That was alright though, I don't mind helping as I remember the days of my knee surgery.

We sat around talking, watching movies and reading books the majority of the day. I hate being this lazy, especially when I feel this crappy, but eventually in the afternoon, after unsuccessfully trying to keep down yogurt and eggs, I start feeling better. Yet, my insides are still unsure of what they want to do. It sounds like a real party in there, listening to the rumbling and bubbling that is going on. Hopefully it calms soon, or another long night could be in store!

SINGING: A TRUE GIFT FROM GOD

2009-11-15T18:01:00.000-08:00

As we enter church on Saturday nights, it is never an option except to enjoy the music. I have mentioned before how amazing the band is at our little, "coffee-house" like church. All the instruments being played perfectly to blend at such an amazing tone. I always leave a little more impressed with how well they all mesh together.

Every Saturday night afterwards, something happens (socializing at out house this week) and then sleep, followed by the choice of going to church again Sunday morning. At first, I went every Sunday morning. Lately, however, I have been slacking in this category. For me, music is a big part of worship. It is something I really get into doing the services. I must say, sometimes I judge a church, not on the pastor and how welcoming people are, but by the musical talent and ability of the congregation to sing. It is what makes a church service aesthetically pleasing. Coming from the Mennonite church, I get rather spoiled by this. Especially, coming from my particular, very musical extended and immediate family. God blessed me in a way, by putting me in these two, very musical groups of people. It really is hard to top a good Mennonite church for their singing of hymns, and and song in general. In almost every Mennonite church I have been in, during a hymn, I will stop and just listen to the sound being made. I do this in all new churches I am at. However, during most Mennonite hymns, there is a distinct, talented 4-part harmony, and if not, something very close. It is when I go to other churches that it is painful for me to sit through the songs. While there are some churches I have visited that match up to the Mennonites, it is very unusual for me to find one of these churches.

Being in Miami, where there are not a lot of Mennonite churches, and living in a house full of Presbyterians, my choices for Mennonite churches is very slim. Except for the Spanish speaking on that is rather close to the house. However, I don't think the music would be the same for me, since I wouldn't be understanding the words. Therefore, I go to many churches, well, other churches, that are not Mennonite. Non denominational, congregational and today, my first visit to a Presbyterian church. While growing up, if not at my home church, we usually went to other Mennonite churches, or, for example, A black Missionary Baptist church in Kansas City, Missouri, which could sing like crazy. I have always been surrounded by singing. I am trying to make this clear. So, when I walk into church today and they tell us to sing, I have trouble finding my pitch. Usually, being in a congregation full of amazing singers, I can get it no problem. Getting off pitch is the hard part since everyone else is always on. However, today, I could not seem to get my right pitch. As I sat and listened, I quickly realized it was because no one in the church was singing the right pitch, or trying to harmonize in the least. I had never really noticed how much this affects how I sing as well. It was as if I was looking for the only person in China who spoke Spanish. Being in the middle of so many Chinese speakers, I would never find that one person. Just like I was never going to find that note today in church. It was painful. It really was!

While thinking about it in "sitting and listening" part of the service, it really made me so grateful and thankful for the people I have surrounding my life. While these people are not bad ones at all, something just very important to me is lacking in their church services. While I come to this time of the year of giving thanks, it really stuck out to me how richly God has blessed my family, the Mennonites and I with the gift of music! I can't wait to get back to my roots and listen to some good ole Mennonite hymns and singing! Miami, being the city of cultural differences, is missing out on one of the best cultures someone could ask for!

FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH

2009-11-13T20:33:00.000-08:00

What things happened unlucky for me today?

1. Had to drive Megan's Toyota Camry to work today, which is very opposite all around from my van. Brakes push easy and gas is hard, complete opposite from my van, almost causing me to wreck.

2. The boys were crazy, and didn't have any homework done, or respect for the teacher once again. (That was not something special for today, but just a daily occurrence.)

3. Gave a spelling test, on which my boys still didn't get A's, even though we worked on them for 2 hours each day this week.

4. Had one of them refuse to do the reading assignment, which was a book report he had all week to do.

5. Only got one plate of food for lunch, instead of two. Usually she loads me full of food, but today it didn't happen. Couldn't figure this one out. Maybe she thinks I'm fat.

6. Had a student announce to the middle school class that Mr. Samir and I preform sexual acts on each other. Needless to say, we went off on him, along with the principal and he has to write 150 pages, front and back of "I will always respect my teacher," and he is not allowed in school until then.

7. Had no idea what was going on in my pottery station at our DOOR formal gala tonight.

8. AND....for the first time had nothing really to write about that seemed interesting.

Today was very boring and typical, as it slowly went by. Nothing stuck out, except for the fact the boys actually got B's on their spelling tests, instead of the typical F's. It really was awesome to see them sit and work on it, trying to get good grades. And for once, even though they weren't perfect tests, they were trying, anxious to see their grades, and happy with what they got as a grade. I feel like we need to make adjustments to the class, getting rid of cancer once again, to help us out. As bad as I hate to say this, there are two tumors in the class, and they are the two that were added halfway through. The one boy is the one who made the sexual comment in class. I then was approached by his sister-in-law that the boys in my class pick on him. This turned into an hour long discussion with the principal and other teachers, giving all sorts of examples how bad this kid is in class, and he is most definitely not the victim, but the cause of everything bad in the classroom. This kid has no discipline, and today, he made the (pardon my French) shit hit the fan in the school with his comment. All hell broke loose, or seemed to from my eyes, in the office with the little meeting. However, I was very pleased with the outcome, as the sister-in-law left more on our side, realizing how this boy acts in school. I was glad someone from the family finally showed interest in the boys education and came to talk. Now, hopefully we can get him on the right track in class, and finish this semester on a high note! It is going to be tough, but I am still going to turn these guys lives around and make a difference in them before I leave. If they don't learn how to read, algebra, or science in Mr. Isaac's classroom, they will learn that there is someone out there who cares for them, even in the darkest moments. Who cares if he lives 31 hours away in a small, farm community in Kansas. At least they know there is good in the world they are living in.

OH MAGGIE!

2009-11-12T20:21:00.000-08:00

So it has really been a while since we have seen much of Maggie. As she used to come over all the time, sometimes two or three times a day, the frequent rapping on the door has stopped. Maybe things are better for her with her husband at home, or maybe we upset her, telling her to go home several times, however, she has returned. Tonight, I hear the beating on the door, followed by Megan saying, "Hi Maggie!" We are much friendlier when we see her once a mont, not once an hour. She continues to say hello, but quickly says, "Is Isaac here? Isaac or JJ please!" Of course I know to get my phone ready for her to call. She knows our house phone no longer works, so she takes the next step of using our personal cell phones. I can not get it in my heart to say no, so I always dial the number she gives me, then hand the phone to her.

She promises just one call. One, long call, that she yells the whole time in Spanish at the poor person on the other end. JJ translates, as I finally realize she is indeed very upset with the woman telling her just to listen, because it is now her time to talk. Or yell. The phone call ends, but of course she needs another call. At what point are you allowed (christian wise) to tell her it is time for her to leave, and show the light of Christ while trying not to be impolite. It is a very narrow line to walk, but one we do all the time. It wouldn't be that big of deal, but she always comes at the wrong times. We were just walking out the door for supper, which had to be delayed for an hour so she could continually yell at people. This lady is not friendly to ANYONE she calls. It is very odd. I could not stand to be the person on the other end, doing my job like I am supposed to be.

Tonight she called the Social Security people (she said in NYC) and just yelled her lungs out. I couldn't believe it. What if they track the phone to me, and think I am some bad person, or think it is my mom, since it is obviously a woman voice. She has no courtesy while using other people's things. She gets upset because they ask her to repeat her SS number to them, because her broken English makes it hard for anyone to understand. Constantly demanding a new person who is polite, she wastes more and more of our time. Finally, Erin gets up and tells her we really need to be going, as it is getting fairly late. Of course Maggie responds with, "Who are you to tell me what to do with Isaac's phone? It is not your phone!" Well, what do I do now? I hate these things! Finally she just hangs ups and leaves because she feels pressured to.

So where do we draw the line? When we think we had the problem from earlier this year figured out, it seems to be coming back as she promised to be back tomorrow again to try it all over. In what ways can we learn from Maggie and the way that she is? Is this a way to reach out to people who are in need, but letting them use up our time and minutes on a phone? She obviously needs help, but we do not know how to give it to her. She obviously needs money, but every time she is over she is most definitely drunk and reeks of cigarettes. We have given and given money to her, but she always needs more! Is there a way to minister stewardship to her without being completely rude to her? Sometimes it feel like a lost cause. I do not remember signing paper work that we would be dealing with this sort of culture in Miami. I just have to remember that she is part of God's plan somehow. Possibly, after a few weeks, years or decades after leaving this city, I will know what I learned from having this lady in our house. Maybe my good deeds will be payed back! It will be interesting to wait and see.

HOW TO BE LAZY

2009-11-11T19:36:00.000-08:00

THOOSH! The sunlight breaks through my window and into my eyes, every morning at the same time. The blinding rays break through the thin walls of skin protecting my eyes, revealing to me that it is once again time to wake up. However, being my first, real, day off of work since starting here (Not counting weekends, days without kids, days I took off or anything, an actual day given off) I happily put my pillow over my head and journey back into the land of the dinosaurs to continue killing off all the Tyrannosaurus Rex before they can attack my hand-built potters wheel. Call me random I don't care, at least I have a good imagination.

Finally, God tells my body it has enough rest, and I spring out of bed. Well, spring might be too excited of a word. I roll out of bed and onto my feet to great another morning (midmorning). As I fell asleep watching a movie, I decide to finish it before doing anything else. The couch is comforting as I lay down in it, still in my pajamas wondering how my room mates are doing at work. Half of us worked today, but Julie, Megan and I were all blessed with a day off.

Ok, enough of trying to spice up my life. Today was most likely one of the most boring days I have had since coming. There is nothing to do when everyone is at work. I had flirted with the idea of the beach, but I had just enough stuff here to do that kept me at home all day. Laundry was piled so high in the designated "laundry corner" of my room that I got out the step stool to reach the top. Underwear has been turned inside out and used again, just out of shear laziness. I became good friends with the garage today, as I spent the most time I ever have out there switching clothes from washer to drier, then out and starting new loads. In the meantime, while the machines were doing my work for me, I was inside watching all sorts of movies. One in particular, that I tried to watch the entire thing, yet, still haven't finished. Veggietales: Jonah. It really is a good movie, just in the form of teaching children, yet, I could not keep my eyes open. The 1 hour 30 minute movie has taken me over 10 hours and I'm still not done. I would watch about 5 minutes then be back in the land of the dinosaurs for an hour, fighting and protecting my property from various oversized lizards.

While today really seemed like a waste, as I encountered no one basically other than my room mates (well JJ and I did take a trip to a friends house who has a kiln which we are using to fire some bowls I made for a DOOR fundraiser, but not counting them) it really was good to relax and get away from the stresses of work. And what better day to have off than Wednesday. It is the worst day of the week, as it is directly in the middle. Stupid hump day. Hopefully the rest will prove to be useful in the coming two days. Only a week and four days separate me from Thanksgiving break and seeing friends in the Chicago area for a wedding. It is going to be great!

180 DEGREES DIFFERENCE

2009-11-10T20:14:00.000-08:00

"Come in, sit down, get out your homework and be quiet!" I order as my students walk into the newly arranged classroom. "What is with the tables facing the walls? How am I supposed to learn if I am staring at a wall? Man, this is stupid." They obviously were excited for the change, but I blew off the comments and stuck my what I had said. "Sit down!" I say as I stare them down, making them back down into their chairs quickly. Because I am tall, they automatically think I am strong and aggressive. Two things I most definitely am not.

As I sit and wait, only a few assignments come my way, as one student did everything and two others only did the fun thing as homework; the word search. One student was absent, for the seventeenth time this year, and the other was busy writing lines, since he never does anything in class. One line equals one page, front and back, covered in the sentence we pick for them. In this case it reads, "I will respect the teacher." This particular boy was assigned three lines, which he didn't complete, so they kept doubling. By today, he was at 60 lines, and not allowed in school/class until it was finished. He sat there in the classroom and tried to talk, but I informed him if I heard so much as a peep out of him, I was kicking him out of school. Forever. And he knows I am serious, because I have his Parol Officer on speed dial, and putting him back in jail would be his best option right now.

With the class knowing I am nothing but serious right now, they listen as I explain the bartering system in our class with class money used to give them rights, such as getting a drink or using the restroom. I explained ways to gain more money, and ways to use it, however, it would be in their best interest to save the money for bigger prizes, or for extra credit. I have never seen these boys so quiet and so eager to do their work in class without talking. They want that money. Usually, the day starts by me either giving out 5 pencils, or sharpening 5 pencils. Today, when Oliver announced to the class that he couldn't find a writing utensil, I gladly held out my pen and said, "Here, take it." "No way, Mister Isaac. I am not wasting my money on that. It is a waste of money. I know it is in here somewhere." This would have never happened without Eagle Dollars.

I also bargained with the boys and their spelling tests. Reading and spelling is our main focus with the ones I work with, so getting good spelling test grades is vital to their success. They, however, think eating breakfast at school is vital to success, and they ask for it every day. Now, if they get an A on my spelling test, they are allowed breakfast all the following week. It really is amazing to see how these boys are studying, getting dictionaries to find definitions, and working diligently without interruptions. They even voluntarily ran to the bathroom to get paper towels when I spilled juice all over. This-is-AMAZING! It couldn't be working better.

The day finished without any major blowups or disruptions. In times that I was not ready for them with assignments or homework to be doing, they catch on and get busy making trouble. One word of me telling them it is going to cost their money if they don't sit down, and they are sprinting to their chairs. But three o'clock came and went and football practice came. Hopefully the last one. (As a coach I did not say that, just for the record.) We got them there, and started running. If they were late we had them doing pushups. When someone talked back, the whole team was doing pushups. After our blow up last week when the team told us they didn't want to play anymore (and when we as coaches said 'ok' and skipped practice for a week) they decided to come back and listen to what we say, knowing we WILL give up on them after all they have put us through. I have never seen kids run so much and do so many pushups in my life. They keep telling the principal how we as coaches lose the game because we never tell them when they are doing good, but only yell when they mess up. Therefore, today, we showed them how bad they were, and ran them. I feel bad saying this, but really, they are not good, and now they understand they have to try in practice to be good in a game. Lots was accomplished as we sparked a fire under their butt. If we played anyone tomorrow, I guarantee we would win, but we aren't that lucky. No school tomorrow, and a game on Thursday, so it will be interesting what happens.

But, in the meantime, one great day of school and one great day of practice, all in a single day. I now see why I keep coming back to work every day. Because I know, deep down inside, there is going to be one good day every now and then that makes life fun, and today was that day. I just hope it isn't the last one before I leave. I now know these boys have the work ethic in class and sports, and I can quit blaming it on their culture. I think we finally are taking Haiti out the boys and showing them there are more options than living poor because you cant get an education or being bad on a team because you have never had to work. I can't wait to see the improvement each and everyday. Life is now exciting!!!

A FRESH BEGINNING

2009-11-09T18:38:00.000-08:00

Nothing is working. Everything is seeming to fail. Maybe this is why my boys are so far behind? I can see it, my principal can see it and something has to change. But what is it?

As I meet with my principal today, it is obvious something has to change. At the beginning of the year, no boys in my class could read. Well, one could, but he still needed lots of help. Every day we would work on phonics, spelling, reading and writing. However, after a way, a slowly weaned them away from this schedule, and threw in math, social studies and science. I had found something I enjoyed teaching, something the kids liked to learn and something we could both have fun with. However, reading started slipping. The improvements started to change into falling backwards. Therefore, we have to change the curriculum up.

Right in the middle, or on the back half, of the year and the curriculum is all up in the air. What do I teach these boys? I am now instructed to change them strictly to a reading curriculum and that is it. Start over on everything, dropping science and social studies, and a bit of math. Read, read, read, read, read. This is my new schedule. These boys WILL read. It is their destiny and mine to teach them the ropes that they can use to get across this valley in their life. It will not be easy, however, it is going to happen.

To make things easier, a system is going to have to be put in place to get them to do their work. When there is cancer in the body, it is taken out, giving life back to a person. Well, same goes for a classroom. We are removing some cancer that is going to help us out. Not all the cancer is being removed as the tumors in my classroom are spread all around, yet, the mother tumor is now gone. We put one of the students back in the mainstream classroom today, as he is not in my class for help, but for discipline issues. Without him, the learning will increase in my room. I am looking forward to having a class without as much disruptions and it starts with this change. A reward system is now in place as well. Today, I changed the room all up, assigned seats, and made what I call, "Eagle Dollars." It is a system put in place to make them learn how to manage money as well as learn some discipline. When they do good things they get money. When they act up or want something, such as a drink, it will cost them. They also have prizes if so much money is collected, such as breakfast (which they love) or lunch out on the teacher. (Which secretly I hope they don't get because I have no money, but if they do, I will take them.) I am praying the changes are really going to help these boys out as well as make my last few weeks here go extremely smooth.

Today, I had yet another parent teacher conference. The only weird thing about it was the mom did not speak English. Therefore, the principal made the student I was doing the conference on, come interpret everything. Now you are going to tell me that this kid actually told her everything? You have got to be kidding me. I went on with it though, not holding anything back just because the student was there, but I said everything the mom needed to know, and it didn't hurt him either to hear it. Oddly enough, I do think he actually translated correct, because that mom ripped in to him in Creole and kept that finger right in his face and she seemed to be swearing on her life that he had better change. It was hard not to laugh, but somehow I bit my lower lip. These mothers have some respect in Haitian culture. It is awesome to see that someone does. I'd like to paint my skin a dark brown, put on a wig, throw in some implants and put a name tag that says, "mom" on it and go to class. Maybe I would start to get respect. Especially if I would lay the beating down on them since I am no longer Mr. Isaac, but mom. (Only a joke, but I think every teacher would love to hit a child at some point or another. Don't take this in the wrong way, but it is true. Sometimes it just feels like this would get the point across. Especially after they hit you!)

While my time in Miami is an amazing experience and I wouldn't trade it for anything, it seems to be catching up to me. Nothing has really seemed to go in my favor lately. Every day I am tested by these kids as they try to make fun of my culture, my music, my way of life, and sometimes I feel like I have a net on my head that catches everything. It is hard to let them go. However, by this experience, it gives me an opportunity to see how others view us from an outside world. White, country folk always have jokes about black, city people. I have head them all. Maybe, this is a little getting back at me, for the jokes I have told in my life about other cultures. A friend once told me that everything in life is a lemon, and it is my responsibility to see how I can turn that lemon into lemonade. And this is so true. The experience that I get everyday is something I would never have had if I stayed at home this semester. The person I am growing into would be totally shaped into something else. I am starting to notice that this lemonade is really turning very bland quickly, and I hope that I can add some sort of sugar to turn it into something sweet. It started off better, but everything has its ups and downs. Maybe I am just in a very low valley right now, but a mountain is up ahead. I hope that I can just finish this out strong making everyone else happy that I am working with including students, parents and staff. I'm praying this change in classroom structure tomorrow is going to hoist me up! I am sure it will! There is not doubt in my mind. Starting tomorrow, my class is going to be the best one in Miami. Students will start acting like they can't read, just so they can come experience Mister Isaac's classroom!!

DISAPPOINTMENT!

2009-11-08T13:19:00.000-08:00

Entertaining guests is something that is always hard to do. Well, let me rephrase that. Not always hard, but sometimes inconvenient. Entertaining in Miami is always very easy to do, as there is at least 5 things every person on the Earth would like. The opportunities are endless. The thing that is hard, is making sure everything works out.

Saturday morning, Becky and I planned on going to Versailles, a Cuban Cuisine and bakery just down the road. While I had never been there before, I was unsure about it all, but with Becky and her Spanish, I knew it would be the best time to go. We had an amazing breakfast of steak and eggs, hashbrowns, and a side of bread I politely declined. I also got a cup of Cuban coffee, which is all it is set out to be. It really is a good coffee, and I am not really a coffee fan. As we left, there are always Cuban men sitting around talking, and one in particular was in a black suit, with a hat and some stellar sunglasses. He had a sign that, in Spanish read, "The Castros are a big ball of shit!" Of course we went over and chatted with him, and took some pictures with him as well. What a great start to the day.

After this, we did some errands and then decided that we should go check out the Everglades. I knew where I had taken my parents, and had a great time, but we saw sign for an indian reservation that offered boat rides as well, so we went deeper in and finally found this place. While it sounded cool, their marketing people do a better job than most. This place was a junky place just on the side of the road, ran by some indians. It was only $10 for a ride, so we climbed in and took off. The boat carried about 20 souls across the river, but, we were the only ones. And the indian driver who didn't say a word the whole time. It really was one of the worst experiences I have had since being down here. It couldn't end quick enough and we took out of there laughing because of what we had just encountered. It was very lame. We took off back toward the city, and away from the very hick lifestyle of "alligator wrestlers."

Our next plan was to go eat Cuban again, as we both really like it, and you can't get it really anywhere else in the states other than Miami. So we wanted to get our fill while Becky was here. Before we made it there, we spotted a casino so we decided to see what this little place was about. It was unlike one I had ever been to so we went after Lady Luck and went in. We noticed the huge sign, revealing we once again were messing with the same indians, and they once again revealed to us that we should never go visit this tribe again. Everything was pitiful inside that place. Usually I like a good casino, but this place was nothing but lame. Very lame. We made enough to be one meal for lunch, then took out towards Sergio's Cuban Cuisine.

For lunch, we both order a Cuban pork dish that was very amazing. We think it is slow roasted with the juices remaining in the meat, then fried. It is a very delicious taste as it was covered in sauteed onions and topped with a Mojito sauce. The perfect ending for a crappy morning of air boat rides.

Before we could do anything else, we took a nap at the house, then set out in the opposite direction towards Key Biscayne. We had looked up prices of renting a bike, and planned on riding them around the island. Once again, we got to the island (place we had planned everything out, just like in the 'Glades) however, we had forgot to look up the address for the bikes. We couldn't find the rental anywhere, so our trip there was turned short and we just went to downtown Miami. Part of downtown is a place called the Design District, which I have always wanted to go to, but never found time. Therefore, we went to check it out. Once again, everything was closed, and seemed much better online, as there was only like 4 stores and they were all home design, not quite what we were expecting. On our way we had spotted an art supply store, so instead of looking at design, we took out walking, which, we went about 3 miles and never found it. It was starting to feel like God was against our kind of fun today.

Sleepless Nights in Miami is a huge event, all free, and lasts from 6PM to 7AM on Saturday night, so we knew this was going to turn out good. It was live artists, music and everything else artsy that you could think of. 150 free exhibits. We drove around for an hour looking for parking, since, parking a 15-passenger van is not an easy task. For once, something was watching out for us, as we found a free parking lot, but it was about 7 miles away from everything. Lucky we had free shuttles all night. We got out and got ready to go, but once again hadn't looked up where anything was at. We had no idea. We just followed a crowd that seemed to know where to go, who entered a circular, outdoor stage. We walked in to find ourself in an opera. This days does find ways to keep getting worse. We quickly exited and found ourself on the patio of yet, another Cuban Cuisine, listening to a guitar player so was very Cuban as well. Being just across the street from the opera, he cranked the system and played like he was giving his last concert. Within minutes, we had opera characters in dress, interrupting our concert to tell him to quiet down. It was quite funny as he acted like he didn't speak English, and would only respond in Spanish, telling them no.

After we had ate and listened to our share of guitar, we took out finding other exhibits. Some good some bad, but it was an exciting meeting with everyone in Miami being in the streets together. At about 1:30, we left the beach and headed home to bed. The quick weekend with family was coming to a close, but at least it was one full of memories that we will laugh about for a long time to come.

COUSINS

2009-11-07T22:35:00.000-08:00

As for school, it went very well. Well, I guess I can't say very well. There were the normal troubles that I have with students, but by now this is just normal. However, during lunch something extravagant happened that I will never forget. It was as if it was planned for shooting a movie about troubled kids in the inner city. I was outside for lunch when one of the ladies volunteering at the school for the day came out to talk to me. She informed me that we had the best behaved children she had ever worked with. I told her there was a mistake in how she said this to me, as I know these children are not the best. She repeated it saying she hates working in the public schools, because they students are so disrespectful to their teachers and everyone in the school, but at our school, they all stand up and greet a visitor as they walked in the room. Right at that moment, a bag of Capri-Sun (a fruit drink for kids) flew across the lunchroom, missing the ladies face by about 2 inches and landed at my foot. I could not help but laugh at what had just happened, because it was such perfect timing, making my point proven to her.

At 2:30 I left the school to head North to Ft. Lauderdale. Becky Crosthwait, my oldest cousin on the Shue side was flying in to come hang out for the weekend. How pumped I was to have another familiar face come to town and hang out. I picked her up about 3 o'clock then headed back to the house, making a brief stop at school. When we got to the house, we settled in for a bit, putting on comfortable clothes and good shoes, then took out walking. Where else that Little Havana, the neighborhood I live in. This is perfect for Becky, as she is fluent in Spanish, and gave her a chance to whip it out on some old Cuban men at the local eateries that we hit up. We walked down the main street in Little Havana called "Calle Ocho" (8th street) which stretches about 10-15 miles through Miami. We walked and walked, stopping for food and conversation with strangers, but all good people. Finally, we decided to turn around as we had almost made it downtown. If unknown, I live a good 40 blocks from downtown, which means we had walked that, and had to get back without money for the buses. We walked, altogether, about 8 miles, most being in the dark. It was quite the experience, and one that I have not really had yet with anyone. It was awesome to get out and see the neighborhood that I live in. With Becky, I have a translator, which I don't have otherwise.

After getting back to the house, we went out for some amazing, fresh sushi where we sat and talked with the chefs one-on-one for about an hour while eating and afterwards as well. They taught us how to make the fun garnishes that come with all the dishes. While they look very complex and fancy, there is nothing to them, just a little more time that peeling it normally.

All in all the weekend was off to a great start! Only better things will come with the rest!

CHANGING A YOUNG MANS LIFE ONE STEP AT A TIME

2009-11-05T19:48:00.000-08:00

Coming back to work from a long week off is always a tough thing to do. However, you never know what to expect to comeback to. Sometimes it may be good, others may be worse, but the way this week has been, is never the way you want to come back.

After reading their letters and hearing them say that they want me to come back, the boys have not really proven to have been telling the full truth. Homework has not been done, attitudes have been flaring, and no one has been giving it their all. To top things off, they have all been bringing things in to class that is not really supposed to be there. Everyone thought that they should bring shades, necklaces, or forget their time at home. Just yesterday, I heard some music being played, and the sound indicated that it was obviously coming from headphones in one of my boys ears. Someone had an mp3 player, and I was determined to get it.

Later on in the day, I saw one boy have a headphone in his right ear with the wire strategically going down the inside of his shirt to the player in his shorts. I told him to give it to me, as he willingly did, knowing I wasn't putting up with anything like that, and I also would never back down. Putting up a fight is pointless, because in my dictatorship in my classroom, I never lose. Well, he pulled it out and out fell a razor blade onto the chair. I don't think much of it, but pick it up and ask what it is for. He replies, "So if anyone tries me." This being a threat, we can not take it lightly and I get the principal involved. It was one of the most vicious butt-chewings I had ever witnessed, yet, that was all that happened. I didn't know if I should feel safe, or in danger, but I sure let him know that I was not happy with what was going on with his attitude. The day continued on as if nothing had happened, but I was sure to watch my back as you of course would be a bit nervous.

Today, his father was required to come in and meet with us, which went very smooth. The father seemed very supportive of us, and even more disappointed in his son. It was hard to watch my students face sink, as I knew that he was, deep down inside, a very good kid. Things continued on until lunch when everyone left, but this boy stayed. "Can I talk to you Mr Isaac?" Of course I am never going to turn a student down that wants some of my time, so I engage into his conversation.

Over the next 30 minutes, I heard a young man from the hood of Little Haiti, Miami, Florida, spill his guts to me, exclaiming that he would really like to change. However, his life is so far in the wrong direction, it is very hard for him to get on the right track. That right track starts in my classroom. "I never wanted to hurt anyone Mr. Isaac. I forgot it was in my pocket. You know me. You know that I don't have it in me to ever hurt anyone. I hate the site of blood, and never want to hurt anything." My heart ached as I knew he was telling the truth. He could very well be in jail this morning for the actions he took the day before when bringing a weapon to school. Had this happened, I would feel guilty for the rest of my life, and he simply did make a mistake.

But who is to say that he was not lying to me? Looking into this kids eyes, I could tell he was not throwing out a random line trying to fool his teacher. This boy is nothing but serious in these talks.

So what is it that he sees in me that he can come to me and tell me all these insights to his secretive life? I am not sure. Or, I wasn't until he opened his mouth to speak. "I don't respect anyone else in this school Isaac, because no one else here ever respects me. I have never had a teacher respect me like you do. I know that you care for us and do what is best." This could be the key words to one of the hardest things or tasks put in front of me. I hope God has picked the right patriarch to take on this challenge that will test every nerve in my body. But what me? What do I have that someone else doesn't? I can't wait to find out!

HAITI VIDEO

2009-11-04T18:39:00.000-08:00

HAITI!! DAY 8 AND REFLECTION

2009-11-04T18:33:00.002-08:00

Sunday, November 1, 2009-Last day in Haiti Day 8

This day in Haiti was quite short, as the morning was totally booked with getting the entire clinic clean as a whistle and packing the car with all the luggage for the trip back to the capital. We ate our final breakfast of eggs, hotdogs, onions and peppers, then settled into the car for our last trip down the long road between Port au Prince and Jacmel.

We all fit into the car extremely well, except for the poor girl we had hired to cook. Mr. Valentine wanted her to come along, but made her sit in the backseat with all the luggage, with less than one inch moving room on each side of her. I felt very bad, but he said she sits in tighter spots on the public transportation busses, which I know is very true.

The trip to the airport was very uneventful, as we all were dozing in and out of sleep. But we eventually made it to the airport. After one week of being in extreme heat and no AC, I was ready to be back in my Miami home. We checked in through the hundreds of metal detectors, insuring we did not purchase anything illegal and try to bring it in, then got in line. Everything was very smooth as we successfully check in on standby and got a flight about 4 hours earlier than scheduled, getting us home in the mid afternoon instead of later at night. With work the next morning, this was a great change in plans for me. I had lots of preparing to do.

Conclusion/Thoughts after the trip

While being in a place like Haiti, I feel that lessons are not really learned or realized until arriving back to your comfort zone. You have to take time to process what you really experienced and were a part of for a week. While still submerged in the culture, it is hard to see what exactly you have until you get back to it and see what you take for granted.

While only being in Haiti for a short week, compared to those who go overseas for a year or two, I still felt like I saw enough and learned enough to really have an impact on my life and how I view things. Growing up, we all had basically anything we needed in life to make it easier for us. When it is hot, we have an AC, and when it is cold we have a heater. Electricity is something we no longer think about. We don’t even process what all happens when we flip a simple switch and the light comes on. It just happens. Well, for a week, that didn’t happen. We were forced to adjust to a lifestyle, creating ways to get tasks done without the appropriate tools we are armed with while living in such a spoiled culture such as the one in America.

Coming back home, I look around the house at all the things that fill our walls. Things we do not need or use, yet, we have them just lying around wasting space. We have things such as electric fireplaces, because we now are too lazy to even strike a match to start a fire. Strike a match? Honestly? We just turn a knob and instant heat. What is the point? Why do I live in a culture that is rich enough to buy a riding lawn mower AND purchase a monthly membership to a gym? Even a push mower! Anyone I saw last week would love to have one of those. If I were to take a machete to anyone in the states and tell them to mow a lawn with it, they would look at me like I was stupid. If I did the same in Haiti, or other third-world countries, they would respond with, “Which lawn?”

The fact that we have everything at our fingertips and we do not appreciate it drives me insane. I come back to my school, where the kids were living in the cultures of Haiti just about 9 short years ago. However, they have forgotten everything and think the world owes them something now that they are American. They forget about their old friends and family members who still walk 4 miles a day just to get some water to cook or bath with. Now, they just turn a knob and complain when the hot water is gone. And drinking water? It is ice cold at the touch of a button. What happened to boiling water to clean it, then chilling it in a fridge that runs 12 hours a day before you are allowed a chilled drink of water? What happened to that? Getting caught up in our lazy, spoiled and too wealthy culture is what happened! Why does God spoil us, to make us want more and more things. These are all thoughts that ran through my head as I brushed my teeth Monday morning, as I washed it out with tap water, and then hesitated to put it in my mouth afraid of parasites. I then reminded myself I was back home and it was ok. Had that water picket not produced water at the turn of the knob, I would have been furious as I had to walk to the kitchen and give it a try. Yet, the rest of the world knows nothing like this exists.

It hurts me to think of my brother and sisters in Haiti who eat food out of the ravines next to dirty hogs and cows as I pull through a drive through or pop in a Pop Tart when I want a tiny snack. With the price I pay for two cheeseburgers, one workingman makes that much to support his family of 5 each day in another country. Yet, the world still owes me something because I grow up in America. Then, we as Americans wonder why the rest of the world hates us. If I saw a country come into my home and take our produce for dirt-cheap, then charge 10 times the amount in America and keep the profits, I would be furious as well. Why the world is not fair is a question that will continue to haunt me until the day God calls my name.

I will not soon forget my experience in Haiti and how just a short time in its borders will touch me for a lifetime. I learned more from people that I speak 3 words of the same language than I could learn in a lifetime from people who live the same sorts of ways I do here in the United States of Spoiled America. While I say this, I still love my home and country, just wish I could bring back some change in people’s hearts and their ways they are living their lives. Why do we deserve to live in peace and comfort when others go through hell and back each day just to keep their baby from crying? I want to change the world. Even if it is only by changing the feelings in one person’s heart, I will change the world!

HAITI!! DAY 7

2009-11-04T18:33:00.001-08:00

Saturday, October 31, 2009-Halloween Day 7

We wake up for our last full day in Haiti. Knowing we have lots to do, we get right to work, allowing more time for us to drive around and see the country since we were not tied down to the clinic for the day. We clean the rooms, dusting, sweeping, mopping and organizing everything we were leaving. Running around like this proved to be very tiring, especially with no electricity to cool us off in any fashion. Instead, to get any wind, we had to run around, feeling the breeze blow by us, which eventually made us even sweatier. We did this until we heard that breakfast was waiting for us.

We went down to collect on our usual helpings of eggs and avocados. While we younger ones were always first to eat, we finished before Mr. Beauregard and Mr. Valentine had even reached the table. We got out our trusty pack of cards and dealt a few games out to entertain us until it was time to leave.

They informed us that we were going to be going to a river that was fun to dig a hole in, then just sit and let the current sweep over your body. We all changed into swimming attire and feel comfortable for the occasion. We then all marched to the car, excited for the days adventure.

We took out shortly after, driving what seemed like forever, until finally, we came to what was the river. To me, it looked like a rock quarry. Rocks were covering every square inch of the river, and the sides. I am used to rivers being surrounded by trees, mud and dirt, and an occasional rock. This, however, was nothing the same. Huge rocks, small rocks, and only rocks were present. The road turned into these rocks and we continued to drive. There is no chance that I would ever take my car over these rocks, but in Haiti, it wasn’t even a thought to NOT keep going. Then, the road turned into a rushing river. Think it stopped us? Once again, not a chance. We pounded through it as I remembered playing Oregon Trail when I was little. I just felt like one of those wagons and was just waiting for us to sink or flip. While nothing scary like that happened, we made it across and parked the car. We all got out excited to swim, but devastated at what we saw. Everyone in Haiti was here bathing, going to the bathroom, and washing their clothes. The river had many uses in Haiti. There were people everywhere, doing all sorts of different things and wearing all different sorts of things. People in hats, shorts, jeans, shirts and even wearing nothing. It was like an X rated river, but no one in Haiti noticed or cared. Their culture does not make things like this sexual like the states does. A woman can walk around topless there and no one thinks a thing of it. Little boys were darting in and out of every bend of the river, not even worried that their man-hood was flapping around in the wind. It is NATURAL there! Was it weird for me? Of course, but you eventually get over it and go on with life. I can guarantee it wasn’t anyone who would be posing in PLAYBOY or anything like that anyways.

We kept walking down stream until we came to a part that seemed tame enough for us to be without attracting all the attention. Stripped down to our suits and jumped in. The water was nipping out our legs, as it seemed so cold. This was only because it was so hot outside that the water was so refreshing and chilly. Doing what we told was fun, we tried to sit down and let the water flush over our skin, however, the current was so strong, there was no way this was going to be possible. We were being forced downstream. So, to enjoy what we heard was amazing, we each found a larger rock, straddled it so that the water was pushing it into us, and sat there. This was the only way to not be moved by the current. We sat in this position for quite some time, enjoying the sun beating down on us, yet, still feeling very chilly from the water. It was a very peaceful way to spend my Saturday morning after a stressful week of working in the harsh heat of Haiti.

After we had enough, we got out and carried our stuff to the car where Mr. Valentine was waiting for us. We marched over these rocks in flip-flops, dodging the piles of feces that the little children had left behind. It was like walking on a minefield in Iraq. One wrong step and you would wish you had watched where you were walking. When we finally made it back to the car, we were all totally dry, slipped back into our clothes and took out for lunch back at the clinic.

On the way back, we had to stop at the market to pick up some plantains. Now when this happens, we were always told, “just wait here about 15 minutes and we will be right back.” We eventually learned this was never true, but we would just wait. Like we had really any other choice. While sitting in the car, I would always watch the thousands of people walking by and staring at me as they passed. Then, one man passed by and had a shirt on that really caught my eye. It was an Amish buggy with “AMISH COUNTRY” written above it. Below the buggy “SUGARCREEK, OHIO” read in big bold letters. Alicia and I, the two Mennonites on the trip, shared a nice laugh about that.

When we got back to the clinic, we napped for a bit while the cook was preparing the food we brought back, but we ate as fast as we could to get back out on the roads. We had plans of going to a waterfall that was supposed to be very pretty. Only problem was, we had no idea where to go.

As we took out, we decided to go ask someone for directions. We headed straight for downtown Jacmel, but no one seemed to know where it was. Finally, we stopped on the side of the road at a house with a boy outside. He claimed to know, but instead of telling us, he just got in and said he needed to take a bath anyways, so he would come along. From the sounds of the Creole in the argument, his family didn’t like the idea, but we set out. He led us through town, across two rivers full of bathing people, through plantain fields and seemed to be a little lost. Finally, he knew where he was and took us on back roads. The sign said we were going to have to hike 5 kilometers one way, which, wearing my flip-flops, I was not impressed. I would have rather just gone back to the internet café and GOOGLED it. However, Valentine just kept on driving.

This road proved to be the bumpiest, most chopped up road I had ever been on. The top of my head eventually became well acquainted with the top on the car, and my bald spot started growing as my hair was getting wiped away from the cloth on the ceiling. After passing through many people making their way to Jacmel with their jugs balanced on their head, we can to a place up the mountain with a “$10 parking” sign painted on a wall. We were instructed to park the car and get out, as we could drive no further. We were told we had to walk fifteen minutes, as the tour guide came out with a long rope. “We need this to repel down some steep rocks, but it isn’t dangerous,” he informed us as he started down the rocky trail. We followed along as they were being as kind as possible, trying to get the largest tip possible for taking us. We past many brilliant views, jumped through rivers and climbed over rocks. We made jokes that this had better not be a little trickle. They informed us there were three basins, 17 foot-deep, 52 foot-deep, and 75 foot-deep, in which we could dive into any of them off the fall. We passed the first two, seeing nothing too special. We then, waited in line, forced to take off our shoes, and one by one repelled down this rock form soaked in water. Don’t worry, we were all harassed in and very well protected. Right! This proved to be not that dangerous as I could have done it alone without the rope, but safety first. As we got to the bottom and looked around the corner, we could see the deep basin and hear the splash from the waterfall. We all put all out stuff down, gave the guides our cameras and jumped in, swimming around the rocks to reveal the site. It was amazing. While it was not the sweetest fall I had ever seen, it still was very attractive, and secluded. No one but ourselves were there.

Right away, the tour guides (5 of them I think) swam to the falls and started scaling the rocks. I jumped in and just followed them, not sharing any signs of fear. That was about the last moment when I showed no signs of fear. They all went into the falls, and started climbing the rocks with the water pouring in their faces, but had no difficulties getting to the upper rocks. (There were three levels to jump from: about 8 feet, about 20 feet and about 50 feet) For them, it was second nature. For me, it was hell to look down, as I have only gone off a 2 foot diving board before. Looking down and seeing little people really set your eyes into focus of how high you really are, even though it doesn’t look it from down below.

I was helped up the waterfall, to the second tier then told myself, “I’m going to the top. I am not a sissy.” Two minutes later I was telling myself, “I’m going down, I am a big sissy,” but didn’t care as I climbed down to the middle one. This still was a little higher than I was comfortable, but took the plunge and took a leap of faith that there was nothing under that surface of water. I tucked my head, said a short prayer and, “SPLASH!” I was submerged into the murky water. However, I came up with a smile on my face, and swam right back for more.

I continued to dive off of this one for a while, until my heart said, “Go higher.” The Haitian men accompanied me to the top. I let them jump first, showing me specifically where to land. I aimed at my target, kept my eye on it and took off. When I jumped to the edge and got ready to jump off, my heart jumped even more and I couldn’t do it. I almost fell in as my forward velocity was carrying me over. Keeping my feet still on the soaked rocks was very hard, but I did it. Otherwise I would have landed on the cliff-like rocks that I was required to jump out and over to be certain I would hit the water. I was terrified. I caught my composure, stepped back again and went for it. It seemed like forever that I was falling and wanted to see every second of my daring jump that no one else in the group would do. However, at the last second, I forgot to tuck my head into the dive. I smacked my face right on the water, throwing my head back into my back and pushing every muscle in my face straight into my skull. It was the weirdest feeling I have ever felt in my face. I came up out of the water with a smile on my face, but knew I wasn’t going to go back up there again. My diving career was over.

Since no one else was doing anything, we decided to head back to the car, and take off for home. By this time it was getting fairly late. As we headed back, we had to climb the mountain instead of hike down it. In wet flip-flops, this was very hard. I braved the harsh, rugged cliffs and took off my shoes and hiked it barefoot, just praying I didn’t cut anything and catch a vicious infection. My prayer was answered as we got back to the car safe and sound.

We made the journey back to Jacmel, dropped the boy off and thanked him for his duties, then returned to the clinic. There we were met with a quick meal and a quick shower before we once again dashed off to the beach for a huge concert. As we sat at the concert and waited for about what seemed like 3 hours, the band we came to see still wasn’t there and we were tired of sitting around. The next day was the day to travel home, so we decided to get back and get some rest.

HAITI!! DAY 6

2009-11-04T18:32:00.000-08:00

Friday, October 30, 2009 Day 6

Friday would soon prove to be one of the most (seemingly) unproductive days in Haiti. That is, other than Monday when we just sat in a car, turned on, blowing AC for 9 hours pointlessly. Anyways, once again eggs and avocados greeted us at the breakfast table after we all finished getting around.

During the daily meetings we have each night on our mattresses outside under the stars, we discussed that we need to make sure everyone we hired as staff knows how to do things after we leave. Part of this meant not being involved more than watching from the side how they did everything without our help. They all had the hang of it, as nothing was too difficult to do. We still, all together, manned the food drive part of filling bowls, however, the majority of the day was filled with playing cards on the table, waiting for the lucky few with bowls to bring them to the kitchen.

While sitting and watching, we noticed the face of a girl that was very familiar. This was her third day to come to the clinic, yet, never saw the doctor. Instead, she had caught on that we were giving away clothes, and took advantage. She also, like every good con artist, noticed we were all switching positions and would come to our store everytime someone else new was working who wouldn’t catch her. It was finally, when Harold was having trouble with her, that I remembered I had the same trouble of her taking 3-4 items each time from the store. Finally, Mr. Beauregard, after losing 12 or so items to this one girl, did something we never wanted to do, but kicked her out of the clinic. Will she be back after we leave? I would like to think she wouldn’t unless it is for the right reason, but what is to stop her since we are no longer there? Maybe she needs the clothes more than we really know, but who doesn’t in Haiti? Of course she does. But so does everyone else, and that is the point we are trying to make to her and every other person that came through. We are there as a mission for everyone, not to fill every need of every person by giving them everything.

As time for lunch was upon us, there was no sign of the cook. Later, we heard she had returned to Port au Prince to visit her daughters. As most of the trip was unorganized, this was too. They had not considered we no longer had any food, or anyone to prepare it. Therefore, there was no lunch provided for the day. This put everyone in a bad mood, as we were all hungry and hot with still no electricity to at least cool our faces for a bit from the hot sun. Finally, the cook returned from the city, with groceries and starting preparing ‘lunch’ which was served after 5 PM. Once again, the food cause something in my stomach to react, as the pikliz from the day before make my stomach uneasy to anything that entered. Therefore, once again, I had more ‘business’ to attend to after eating. At least the electricity was finally on, allowing me to drag a fan from the bedroom into the bathroom to keep me from losing even more weight from seating like crazy. Those bathrooms tend be react like a sauna or a hotbox or anything to that family of things. I call it my ‘weight loss’ room, as I seem to lose a lot every time I enter.

Evening came after a boring day of playing cards, but after eating, we all decided we didn’t want to go out anywhere. Even though we had done nothing all day, the stress of the entire week was finally setting in on us all, and we just wanted to relax. Alicia, Harold, and myself all played games for the remainder of the evening until we couldn’t keep our eyes open much longer. Little did we know, it was only 7:30, but our bodies were not on a regular time schedule. Instead of going by certain times, this is how we functioned for the week. Wake up when the sun rises. Eat when your body says you are hungry. Sleep when the sun goes down. So, when the sun would set at 7, our bodies started winding down naturally.

As we were getting ready to run off to bed, our nurse walked out of her bedroom with her bags in her hand. She was leaving and would not be back before we left. While being with someone for a week, even though you do not speak the same language, you do grow a little closer to them. We all said goodbye, and got in a line to see her off. However, in cultures other than America, they greet and leave with a kiss on the cheek. Now, for mister touchy-feely me, you would think this may be very easy to do. Well, to fill you in, it was one of the most awkward moments of my life. In Miami, I do not do it, just reach out my hand and give the good ole handshake. However, I felt really pressured since everyone else was doing it. Politely, I shook her hand and lowered my face right near hers and made the kissing ‘smooch’ even though I did not touch lips to anything. Bending down, as low as if I was tying my shoe, made it even more awkward. Had she been 6 feet tall, I may have enjoyed it a bit, but no chance of that. I quickly made my move and got on with my life.

We all met upstairs quickly before shutting out the lights for a quick meeting to talk about the work week, and how we were leaving the clinic, now that it was finished being open since we were there. In the three open days of the clinic that we were present, we saw a total of 175 patients. A HUGE success in our books. After talking what other improvements we could try to show the people in the morning, we all drifted to sleep quickly. While everyone was outside, I once again chose to sleep inside, not just tonight, but the rest of the trip as the mosquitoes tended to prefer to stay outside. A perfect collaboration between man and insect!

HAITI!! DAY 5

2009-11-04T18:30:00.000-08:00

Thursday, October 29, 2009 Day 5

Morning came once again, as God spared us through another night in sleeping outdoors in Haiti. The morning was spent helping Alexandra and George get their things around before breakfast, because they were to get back to the states today, as their jobs would not allow them to stay the entire week with us. Growing close to these people over the past few days, made it hard to say goodbye, but knew we had to.

We all ate the eggs for breakfast together, and then fellowshipped a bit before their ride took off for the capital city. During the week, Alexandra had been talking of doing a tapping technique on me, that she does with her patients back home. Being unsure if it was voodoo, I kept telling her I didn’t know if I wanted her to do it, but finally, she talked me into it and I put my trust into her. She did her think and it relaxed me amazingly, which prepared me for the day and continuation of the day. Through this, we conversed getting on the topic of ADHD, in which I told her I was a self diagnosed ADHD. We talked a while about this, telling her I had never scene a doctor, because it seemed like a waste of money to be told something I already knew. She responded with, “Well, I am an MD and I don’t even need to make an appointment for you. I have been observing you and you are definitely ADHD!” It was no surprise to me, but what was is what happened next. I told her that I had always wanted to try Ritalin, the medicine that supposedly calms you down and makes you focus. Oddly enough, she had brought some with her, but had it packed up to go home. She pulled it out, placed a tablet in my hand, in which I popped into my mouth and swallowed. We were experimenting! I gave her a hug and thanked her and she went on her way with Valentine and George down the long bumpy road.

The rest of us continued to open the clinic short two Creole speaking people. This was a very big loss, as we now only had one bilingual person in the languages of English and Creole. But, with a will, there is a way, and it happened. We arranged ourselves in what we thought was the best position and opened the gates. Once again, the clinic was rushed with people, crowding the waiting room, and a constant buzz all day. After we decided to try and fix this major problem, Mr. Beauregard wanted me to be at the stairs which led to the waiting room, not allowing people up. “Just stand there and when someone want up, put your hand out and say ‘tun.’ It means ‘stay.’ That is all you have to say. If they don’t, put it up again and raise your voice. They will know that you mean business.” Therefore, I slowly walked down, as I hate doing this. I am not a fan of acting like a know a language by saying one word. Then they think I know Creole and break into conversation.

I finally got myself in place and two ladies with a small child and a baby walked up. I did the directed motions and words, however, the mom did not pay attention to what I said, yet, thought I was reaching for her baby. She thrust the young girl right into my hands and continued to walk up the stairs. Instantly, my job description went from ‘bouncer’ to ‘babysitter.’ With no other options, I sat down and put the baby on my legs, bouncing her up and down. By this time, Mr. Beauregard sent the mom downstairs with the other child, so she came and sat by us, but did not take the baby. I noticed the baby had a rash across her whole body that looked something like ringworm. Quickly, I removed all skin contact, as I tried to hold this baby up with my two index fingers; one in the middle of her back and one on her sternum. Trouble was, she was a fairly new baby and she kept letting her head fall backwards and forwards making me very nervous. Once control was maintained, I started bouncing her again, and when I looked down, I noticed her jeans were very weird looking. The insides of her legs were a navy color, while the outsides were light denim. I lifted her up and noticed she had transferred the weird colors to me, making half of my shorts a very dark brown and leaving the rest a nice khaki color. It was at this moment that I realized I had been the victim of a crime. A crime so bad that jail time should be considered. That mom knew exactly what had happened, and used her brain to figure out how to make it happen on someone other than her. Of course her baby had to pee like a racehorse. She had just fed it. I kindly smiled and laughed, but gave the baby back and walked stiff-legged up stairs, trying not to let the wet parts touch my skin. I changed my clothes immediately, and went back to the clinic to see how things were going.

I grabbed a book that I needed to read for my DOOR assignments, and sat in a rocking chair. About this time, the meds were kicking in and I started feeling very relaxed, and focused on everything. My constant moving around and turret-like jolts were easing as I sat still and opened my book. About 5 short hours later, I turned the last page in the book and read the ending. As it sounds like a read for a straight 5 hours, it is a bit deceiving. I was also doing the work that I was in place for. Another mission we are doing with the clinic is serving a free meal to each person who visits. We found a company that donates as much food as we need to make sure this is possible at the clinic. It is a simple rice meal, but one that they would not have if they didn’t come, so it is a great thing. I was responsible for filling the bowls that came. We are not allowed to hand out paper plates, as they will all end up on the side of the streets instead of in the proper place of the trashcan. Today there was not many people with bowls, as we hadnt’t really advertised this much, but that was soon to change in the days to come. While reading and jumping up every now and then to get food, it was amazing how still, focused and calm I was for the afternoon. I love narcotics!

I went downstairs to see what was happening, as the clinic was wrapping up for the day. I found three boys at the gate, and decided to strike up a conversation with them. In English. Of course they looked at me weird, but we made signals and finally started talking. Just very slowly. They taught me words in Creole and I did the same for them in English. It was fun to finally get the chance to try this, as most the adults in the clinic had no interest in it.

After the clinic closed, since our car was with the ones in Port au Prince, we decided to walk the neighborhoods together, familiarizing ourselves with the community around us. We walked for an hour or so, through the countryside seeing all different sorts of houses from the obvious rich to the poorest of poor. It certainly was an amazing experience to see the people in their natural environment, instead of at a clinic or from the windows of our flying car. Watching the kids play soccer in their backyards as their dad was mowing with a machete was a picture worth taking and remembering for eternity. The laughter heard while passing was a sign that their worry-free life was fine for them. They were not worried about buying bigger and better things like we all are, but were more focused on scoring a goal by their brothers and sisters and they pretended they were playing for Haiti in the World Cup.

We returned and ate the typical fried plantains and pikliz once again. May sound old after eating it every day, but it never does get old. However, something was different about this batch of pikliz. The cook had used twice the amount of habanero peppers, as Mr. Beauregard placed the order saying the others were not hot enough. It was instant burning in the stomach, which led once again to liquefied ‘business’ (as I will call it) for the remainder of the trip. It set my stomach for a spin for sure, but the taste was still worth what I went through.

Since everyone was no longer with us to have the party outside every night, I took the place of sleeping on the one bed we had upstairs inside, and stayed in away from the mosquitoes and guaranteed dew in the morning. Instead, since the mattress of the bed was outside being used, I slept on the boxspring with wooden bars going across ever foot and a half. It made for an interesting night as I would wake up with a wooden stick in all different parts of my body, but waking up to this was a blessing to waking up with a mosquito so fat from blood that it can no longer fly, sitting on your arm. While I didn’t get the experience of the stars sleeping inside, I did get the experience of sleeping in a bit, as the sun was finally blocked from the walls!

HAITI!! DAY 4

2009-11-04T18:29:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, October 28, 2009 Day 4-Opening Day

As it seems to happen every morning, we wake up yet again to the rays of sun striking us in the eyes as we throw the freshly wetted blankets off of us, revealing our wrinkled and soft skin to the brisk air of 80 degrees. The morning of ritual is done consisting of brushing teeth, doing the morning business followed by the paper work (all in the dark). However, today was different. The toilet did not flush. We had forgot to fill the water tank on the top of the house the evening before, so, I grabbed the trusty bucket, went to our well, got out a bucket and drug it to the third floor spilling a bit with every step. I took it to the bathroom and slopped it in the toilet bowl, being as careful as I can with five gallons of water to not go to fast, spraying my own ‘business’ all over the floor and more importantly me. Never did I know filling a toilet with water made it automatically flush, yet, it was an amazing sight to see it work!

After getting everything settled up stairs and our beds back inside, we marched down the stairs in a line like the armies of ants that litter the floors anytime food is left out. We were going straight to our feast left on the table for us: avocados, eggs, bread, juice and soda. I could live with this tradition for the rest of my life and not complain. We patiently ate as nerves were running through out stomachs for the first day of what we came to do. We were only hours away from opening the gates to a free clinic in Haiti. Of course there were going to be tons of people, all non English speakers of course. Who wouldn’t be excited for this opportunity of looking like an idiot when they think you are the doctor cause your skin is different?

Eight-thirty, time to open, rolls around and no doctor. Patients are lined up outside, but we can not let them in, because the doctor we hired was no where to be seen. Finally, about 9 o’clock, Alexandra, the doctor from NYC said she would see patients, even though this was not the intent of having her. But it worked, and we opened the doors. Instantly, our small waiting room was overflowing with anxious people. My duty was not to be anywhere near the chaos, but in charge of taking pictures from a distance, as well as managing our ‘free thrift store.’ We gave each patient a shirt or something else that we brought down from the States. They were very pleased to receive these items, but more often than not, tried taking more than one, which was not allowed.

My other job, taking pictures seemed awesome at first. It gave me a chance to try and get some good snap shots, and for more of a purpose than for my own entertainment, but for the University. However, I felt necessary to ask for permission before throwing a camera in someone’s face because they are at the doctor. Once again, the language barrier made this difficult, therefore, I put my sign language into use. It worked a bit, as I would hold a camera up and make the sign for please and take a picture. Some people agreed, but most seemed to rather not have their face plastered around the States.

As far s the clinic went, the real doctor showed up around 10 in the morning, after Valentine, our official chauffer (who was born on February 14, and his name reflects it) took out to find the doctor, and did just that. He brought him straight to work, and that is what he did. From 10 o’clock to 4 o’clock, he had straight patients, without a water break or food break. He is a trooper. Especially since he was in the hotbox of a room without electricity, yet, never complained. Through all the chaos we saw (I believe) 63 patients the first day with one doctor. I thought it was successful with numbers like that. And everyone, more importantly, left with a smile on their face and with a dose of hope!

We broke for lunch about noon, which was prepared by our own cook the entire morning. We watched her start our lunch at 7 in the morning, which, by the way wasn’t cooking. She started lunch by gathering up the two roosters responsible for keeping us all awake all night, and bent the neck backwards. She was nice enough to let me photograph and video her butchering both chickens. What an awesome sight, watching the future food that would be giving us nutrients. During the night when I told myself I wanted those chickens dead, I never thought it was going to happen, especially in my honor. The cook prepared them with the typical rice and beans, sided with avocado and plantains. An amazing Haitian tradition.

After we all ate lunch, the crowd started to slow down. We shifted around our positions, and taking picture in such a small clinic, I felt I had about every shot possible, but now it would just be with new people. Quickly, I felt it my responsibility to get out of the way and retired to the back porch for a little shut-eye. I awoke to the sound of Alicia tapping me and saying my name. I had no idea I had slept that much. It was beautiful! But word was we were going to the beach for the evening and for supper, so I sprung to life, getting the proper attire on. It was weird to walk through the waiting room to find that no one was there. Last I had seen it, it looked like what I would think of the slave ships. (This may sound awful, but it is true. There were tons of people shoved into a tiny spot, all shoving and trying to get in. This is not a racist comment, but true.)

When we arrived at the beach, it wasn’t like the ones I have grown accustomed to here in Miami. Yet, it was very beautiful in its own way, as the sun was setting on the Eastern part. Directly below the sun, the mountains sat with the silhouettes of about 10 naked Haitian boys playing soccer with a little ball and a homemade goal made from two sticks with a string going across the top. My camera instantly came out as it was one of the most beautiful scenes I had ever scene. It looked like something from a picture magazine. After taking about 100 pictures, trying to get the perfect one, I let it rest and walked into the water. Haitian beaches are very dangerous, as the riptide is extremely powerful. The waves were enormous and very powerful. Only the brave dared walk into the water, so I stayed on the beach. Not because I wasn’t brave, but because I wasn’t in my suit. I came for food, not for swimming.

All I had heard about Haiti was the conch that was served on this particular beach. We all put in our orders and waited about an hour over great conversation about how the first day went, and what we can do to make it better. Finally the food came out, and sat on the plate looking as good as anything I had ever looked at food wise. We all enjoyed the wonderful taste of the grilled conch, as well as the fried plantains and pikliz, which you will soon learn is my new favorite food. This combination was like eating a party in your mouth. It was an instant circus dancing around your taste buds, all the way down to your stomach, and then the party continued. Only this is when the party went downhill. Figuratively speaking and naturally, downhill. While the vibrations continued in the stomach, it was vibrations of being upset, which eventually led do the puking part of the party, or, in the case of this party, something much like puking. To spare the details, I will just say my stomach juices churned this stuff into instant diarrhea, but I will leave out the color and all the information that makes it good.

After sipping on a bit of Haitian whiskey and sharing more stories, we quickly paid and left to escape the bites of mosquitoes. Not knowing if I would be back to the beach, I grabbed a bottle from the trash and filled with sand to return to dad for his collection back home.

Arriving home, we pulled all the mattresses back outside, and took the necessary precaution of the biting terrors that were sure to come out for the night. Wrapped up in a blanket and closed my eyes. The dreams of AC and my bed didn’t come fast enough, but eventually did.

HAITI!! DAY 3

2009-11-04T18:28:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, October 27, 2009 Day 3

As reliable as clockwork, we wake up drenched in liquids, whether it is sweat or due we are unsure, but either way it is very uncomfortable as the blankets and your clothes are sticking to your hydrated skin. We know that today must be a very productive day as we have lots to do to the building before we have the grand opening on Wednesday. We get around in the darkness of the lightless house and check in at the breakfast table to find the cook not there, nor anyone else. Why not? It is still 5:45 in the morning! We stand in shock, but get to work anyways.

On the trip down, everyone carried everything personal in a carryon, yet, checked two bags each full of hospital and office supplies for the clinic. Therefore, we had all those things to organize and get ready for the arrival of the new doctor. We break into each bag, shocked to see how much stuff is in there and that they is absolutely no order to it whatsoever. The very first bag I open, I stare down to find my toiletry bag. I could not carry it on due to the liquids, so I put it in the checked bags, but it got moved around to fit more things in and we could not find it for the first two days. I used a Haitian toothbrush and women’s deodorant for those days, and smelt wonderful. But now I had my bag, with all my stuff including my glasses and extra contacts, which I definitely needed due to the dust content of Haiti.

In the middle of organizing the clinic, we stop for the typical Haitian breakfast then get back to work. We hear news that the doctor we thought we found the day before has fell through and now, the day before opening we are now doctor-less. The leaders know of a hospital ran by Cubans, but they are very hesitant to talk to us about giving names of doctors needing jobs. Thank God we had a Cuban on our team, so we sent him to talk with them. Of course they complied perfectly, and gave us a list, one man which we called up, and who is now the first doctor at the HIU Clinic in Jacmel, Haiti. A great gift from God at a time we were very desperate.

After sweating all morning in the clinic with no breeze, fan or electricity, I went upstairs to get a shower. Well, I guess you would call it getting clean in a I drop per second stream. However, with no electricity and no water in the bin for the house that gives us the water, I have to take my bucket to our well, fill it up with the cold water, and take it back to the shower. I successfully took a shower in less than a gallon of water, but felt very awkward doing it. After I tried every possible way to fit my large frame of a body into that tiny little bucket, I finally realized it wasn’t used like a bath, but I was to use a bottle to get the water out and dump it on me. It worked much better and I was clean.

When I went back outside, there were signs of storms, which was a relief. It meant cooler weather was coming in, but mosquitoes as well. With one good always comes one bad. I went straight down stairs as I received word that lunch was ready. When I got my plate and handed it to the cook, she threw a fish out of the pot and onto my plate. Not a fillet, but an entire fish giant squishy eyeball and all. She then gave me some boiled plantains and sweet yam followed by rice and beans. While I love Haitian food and believe it to be some of the best tasting things ever, this meal I will have to disagree with. My life would still be complete if I never eat, see, or dream of that again.

As far as the rest of the day and evening went, it was a lot of wondering what to do, and waiting to be told, which never happened. Lots of being disorganized and no order in place. It was really frustrating as we would try to do something, then get told not to for no reason, keeping things we felt important from getting done. Finally, after nothing continued to happen, the NYC doctor asked me to shave her head. Her hair was already very short, but she wanted it as short as my clippers would go. It was my first time to cut a black person’s hair, and first to shave a woman’s. Two great experiences in one action. Shortly after, everyone came together for one last meeting and discussion before the opening. It was great to hear everyone’s expectations for opening day as I really had no idea what to expect for a turnout.

Finally, just like every other day, the worst part of the day came. Night time. Feasting time for the bugs and no electricity. Yet, we all still braved mother nature and slept outside, keeping open skin covered for protection. I could feel my fat melting through my skin and into my blanket. Were my clothes going to be hanging off to me when I got back to the states? I sure sweat enough each night to lose an inch off of my waste.

HAITI!! DAY 2

2009-11-04T18:27:00.000-08:00

Monday, October 26, 2009 Day 2

As the sun broke over the horizon, it shone in our faces as we were sleeping facing the East. We really never knew what direction we were facing until that moment. We were unaware, but later found out it was about 5:45 in the morning, but we weren’t tired. We greeted the day anyways. We all looked at our fans sitting still and the rooms still dark. We flipped light switches but nothing happened. We turned water knobs to shower, but nothing came out. It was as if everything was dead. It was!

Being the poor country that Haiti is, they do not have electricity around the country 24/7. In Jacmel, electricity is only used from 1 PM until 1 AM. Therefore, every morning there was no electricity. Even into the noon hours, it was blazing hot, and no relief was offered by a fan. No need to mention from an AC because I do not think they exist in Haiti. Only in the extreme rich parts, which still is not that wealthy.

We all got around powerless and waterless, then went to the breakfast table where the Haitian breakfast of bread, avocado and soda awaited us. Being gluten free, the chef had kindly prepared eggs mixed with peppers, hotdogs and onions, which quickly became everyone’s favorite for breakfast.

After the dishes were cleared, we all got back in the car and took out for Port au Prince, down the long bumpy and chopped up roads. Remembering the experience from only hours ago, I was not excited, but we needed to go the capital city to find a doctor. We made the trip to Haiti to open a clinic without a working doctor, only the one we recruited from New York that was leaving on Thursday. We drove and drove until we finally reached the city again, still as dirty and smelly as we left it. The sense of being unorganized soon began to come to our heads as no one really knew what to do. We were crammed into a car with no breathing room and were sitting around Haiti in the hot sun. The two native Haitian men with us were inside doing stuff we never found out, but that is not the part to take not of. However, five of us were in the car, with it running allowing the AC to try and keep us cool for not 1, not 2 but 6 straight hours while we were unaware of where our bodyguards were. And let me tell you, not knowing the language while sitting in a car with everyone looking at you because you are white, saying the only English word they know, “money” and getting angry when you shake your head is a kind of scary event. To top things off, a group of men with dreads (which in Haiti means they are trouble makers) was only a short distance away harassing people as they got into their cars, were gradually creeping closer and closer. We saw something that had to deal with drugs as they attacked a man getting into his car, and then broke in and jumped in as he drove off. Those left behind were even madder and decided to come right next to us and yell about their problems. As sly as I could without attracting attention, I edged my finger up ever so slowly and locked my door.

Finally, our guys came out, yet, stood and talked outside for about 2 hours while the dreaded men continued to meander near by. When we all came together in the car, we headed down the street to where George grew up and he was reunited with his mother after about a year or two. It was so fun to get to see them all so happy to hear about the arrival of the long lost son. The hard part was, he was only allowed about 10 minutes before we had to head back toward Jacmel.

On the way back, we continued to see the scene of poverty and the sights that make your stomach hurt as you think back to your computer, mp3 player and water knob on your shower labeled, “hot” and wonder why God blessed you instead of these people. Eventually, after telling the leaders that we are hungry, they pull over to the side of the road. Out of nowhere, about 20 people come with pots and pans. I had not seen one person there before we stopped, and how they all knew to bring food instead of souvenirs I do not know, but it is like they heard us somehow. Maybe Haiti is super advanced, but just acting poor. Maybe they have all the rental cars bugged to all the people in the streets, telling them everything we are saying, and then they act poor to get our money. We will continue to pretend this isn’t true though. The story will be better this way. Anyways, we buy plantains, pikliz (shredded cabbage, carrots, onion, habanero peppers, lime juice and salt), raw conch, muffins and sugar cane. It truly was a feast, filled with poisonous germs to the stomachs of Americans. However, I ate it as if I was starving to death and then just waited for my digestive tract to notice the red flags and make me pay the price. It never happened though amazingly.

Once again, we head down the bumpy road, continuously whacking our heads on the top of the car after hitting, not potholes, but large craters in the road every five feet. Driving there truly is an experience you will not get anywhere else except in a bull riding arena. We soon enter Jacmel in the dark, not knowing where we are due to the lack of light, but find our way home.

For the second night in a row, we lather up in bug spray, cover up in our hot extra think blankets, and try to sweat, I mean sleep under the stars. With five of us out there together, we try to talk and share stories, but we are super tired and have to close our eyes. Before we do, we hear the news from Florida as Mr. Beauregard called home that it really is only 7:30, which was our bedtime every night. But we close our eyes and go to sleep.

Come 1 or so in the morning, the mentally handicapped roosters see the moon, believe it is the sun, and crow like crazy the remainder of the night. Since we can’t sleep, several of us notice each other is awake, and all observe the stars together, talking about constellations. Since they are so bright, due to no lights being present until the Dominican Republic, the stars are just glowing. Suddenly something catches my eye. It is like a shooting star that doesn’t go away, but I soon remember watching the stars with my father and him pointing out a satellite. We were watching one of Earth’s satellites go right through Orion’s belt. What an awesome sight to see.

HAITI!! DAY 1

2009-11-04T18:15:00.000-08:00

INTRODUCTION-Haiti, the poorest of poor

The principal at my school and her husband, both MD’s, have had a vision of opening a Medical University in Haiti. However, before doing this, they feel it necessary to start a free clinic to help those in need; a clinic that the University students can work at to build hours. Therefore, the Hispaniola International University (HIU) was formed. HIU asked me to go along and help open the clinic. The group I went with consisted of 6 people: Mr. Beauregard, a Haitian man named George who lives in Miami, a Cuban man named Harold from Miami, Alicia Janzen, the administrative assistant at YLC and myself, as well as a Haitian-American woman doctor from NYC named Alexandra. We all arrived in Port au Prince, Haiti early on Sunday morning to officially start the week.

A little background on Haiti before we get started. Haiti is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. Medical issues seen that we knew we would be dealing with was mainly parasites, which come from their water, and malaria, spread by the thousands of mosquitoes that live there. The average income per person per day is about two American dollars. The national language is Creole, which is very much based off of French.

Sunday, October 25, 2009 Day 1

The sound of music coming from my phone wakes me at 4:30 in the morning. I slowly drag myself out of bed as I brush my teeth and go to the bathroom. Everything was packed allowing me to sleep as much as possible and get the airport by 5 to meet the group. Alicia stayed the night at the DOOR house, as we live very close to the airport. My room mate Julie was kind enough to wake up and take us, getting us there in perfect time. When she dropped us off, we were met by everyone except Harold, the man who planned the whole trip. Time kept ticking by, but he was nowhere to be found. Finally, at 5:30 George decided to call him. Harold answered, revealing that the call woke him up. He sprung into gear and got to the airport immediately.

We went through the airport, getting scanned about 300 times it seems and showed off our awesome pictures on our passports the same amount of times. Seems like showing the first person would be good enough. Guess not. As we sat in line for customs, we saw the parent of one of our children checking in line too. She also was going to Haiti for the week and was on our plane. Finally, we all got through safely without getting frisked or anything, and walked to the gate. Mr. Beauregard went straight to a man and started talking like crazy. He told us to come over and introduced us as the man shook each of our hands. We later found out he was the President of the Senate in Haiti. The fourth most powerful man on the island.

As we boarded the plane, the flight-attendant said the typical, “Watch your head!” as if I didn’t know I was tall. Why does everyone think they are the first person to discover this fact? People passed and passed but no one sat by me. I kept waiting for someone to plop down beside me, however, the announcement of the closed door came and the seat next to me was empty. Perfect! I closed my eyes and passed out.

While sleeping, a bright light beamed right through my eyelids, waking me quickly. The sun had just come up over the horizon, came right through my window and woke me up. I look out to see what was going on, and saw the eastern tip of Cuba going right below us. What an amazing sight! I wish I could be half the artist that God is! The rest of the flight went as directed and we landed in Port au Prince, Haiti about 8:40. This was the last time that I knew the correct time for the whole week. We never knew what time zone we were in, but finally, on the last day, discovered Haiti was on Central Time, even though it was east of Miami. Didn’t make sense to us either.

As we successfully made it through customs in Haiti, we went to the exit doors, but sat and waited until our chauffer arrived. When we received word that he was outside, we wheeled all our backs out the door, revealing our first real glimpse of Haiti. People EVERYWHERE. And everyone thought their responsibility was grabbing our bags and running with them. Talk about putting up a fight to maintain ownership of our bags. However, no one was trying to rob us, only help. However, any help they gave meant we owed them money, or so they thought.

We get to our car, which long story short, ended up not being “nice” enough for us, so we sat an waited about 2 hours until they found a better one. In the meantime, the beggars outside the fences started yelling. One in particular was about a 6’5” man dressed in all navy with a navy stocking hat on as well. Why he wears a hat when it is 235 degrees outside I will never know, but power to him. This man loved to yell! “Hey boss! Big Boss!” I look up, but quickly glance away. “Yea, you! Boss! How about some money!” I soon learned as I sat and listened that this was the only English he knew. I continued to ignore him and he kindly hopped away on his one leg and one crutch.

While we waited, the men that carried our bags also waited. For a total of two hours, they sat there just staring, waiting for as much as a quarter to be thrown their way. Other beggars would walk by and say, “God Bless” just trying to get a conversation started, which would lead to money. It was unreal.

Finally we got the car situation figured out, loaded ourselves in one and our luggage in another, and took off. Before we left, Mr. Beauregard instructed to lock the doors and keep the windows up. He pulled out his wallet, rolled the window down an inch, and stuck out a 20 dollar bill. All the men had gathered around the car, tapping and hitting on the windows just trying to get our money. At this sign of money, they all snapped and went crazy trying to get it. Instantly the window went up and we got out of there.

We went directly to a Haitian restaurant and got lunch. We all got a baked chicken with tomato sauce, fried plantains and rice. It was a quiet lunch as everyone was still very tired from waking up so early. We then loaded the cars and took off across the country to Jacmel. Driving through Port au Prince was an amazing experience and something I never thought I would see. Poverty everywhere as everyone wanted money. We saw pigs eating trash in dirty ravines and people digging right beside them. Many dirty markets lined the sides of the broken roads and people walking everywhere. Streets were lined with litter of every color. It almost seemed to be a new art form that was arising in Port au Prince, but we all knew that it really was just an environmental catastrophe in the making. Painting the perfect picture with words is almost impossible. The road takes us through the city, small towns, horrible road conditions, beautiful mountains, views of the ocean, small villages supported only by traffic on the road and finally to Jacmel, the sight of the clinic.

When we arrive, it is dark outside, so the view is very select. The few street lights illuminated reveal just a portion of the city, but the lights of cars and mostly scooters fill the streets. The nighttime is the life in Haiti. The population of the streets seems to double. We arrive at the house where the clinic is an unload everything. We settle in for a short bit, getting a tour of the house, then take off for the beach, which is the place to be at night. Bands were playing and people were lounging, having no worries in the world. Or so it seemed. We got food, which was not approved by the FDA, along with everything we ate for the entire week. It was delicious, but visions of me hovering on the toilet danced through my head for the remainder of the evening.

When we got back “home,” we blew up air mattresses and drug them out on the balcony on the third floor, under the stars. Being this high surrounded by a locked gate with razor wire, we were “guaranteed safe” or so we were told. With the temperatures still staying around 85 degrees, we brought two fans out on extension chords, which would be a necessity for sleeping in the harsh conditions of heat and humidity, as well as mosquitoes. We used about 4 cans of OFF, climbed under the blankets and tried to sleep. However, huge, heavy blankets on a hot and humid night is not your best friend. Yet, they were protection from mosquitoes and malaria, so we deemed them as necessary. Considering all this, I closed my eyes with a smile, for I was sleeping in HAITI!

While I thought the day was over, it really wasn’t. I could not sleep well. Waking about every hour do to heat stroke, I would try to cool down by getting out from under the blanket, but didn’t stay long as the humming of wings and bites of pain surrounded my body. The deadly mosquitoes were out and hungry. I also noticed the fans were no longer working and everything was covered in water as the due levels are very high. I looked into the heavens to see the most beautiful sight. The stars were brighter than anything I had ever seen in my life. Millions of them shone above. Even the ones millions of light years away that are never seen were very alive and brilliant in Haiti. Once again I closed my eyes and smiled.

THE REAL PARENT TEACHER CONFERENCE DAY-A DAY LATE

2009-11-03T18:45:00.000-08:00

Once again, for the second time this year, it was the day deemed Super Tuesday, in which the morning is designated for a huge worship service followed by a 'super' breakfast. Well while these things were good, I would not put the label 'super' on anything else today.

The morning kicked off great after everyone was back in class, however, after the festivities, class was only in session for an hour before lunch. The hour was focused on Reading, and for one reason only. Report cards. They were supposed to go out last night, but since no on in my class is responsible, nor their families, they all came in this morning thinking I had time in the middle of the morning to meet with them. Lucky enough for them, it WAS Super Tuesday and the children were still outside eating, so I had a few spare minutes.

I gave the parents the report cards, all of which were splattered with a certain letter that comes after 'E' in the alphabet. Of course the parents were mad and their children would never ever do anything bad in class, let alone not do their homework. Of course it was my fault and I GAVE their precious angel of a son an F in all my classes. I gladly whipped out the grade book and flipped through each class and each student revealing that no one does homework nor completes their tests in class. They now had nothing to argue about except the fact they don't spend enough time with their children to know they have homework, or care enough to ask. How frustrating is that? After two, deep conversations with parents, who tried their best to conduct the meeting on their terms in Creole, but quickly lost that battle, let upset with me, the principal, school, children and mad at each other (as in spouses). What a great way to start MY Super Tuesday.

Therefore, as I explained to my guys that this 9-weeks would be better, I started off by talking how we were going to improve reading. I sat them down with their books and it was silent for an hour. I couldn't believe it. I got to work on some of my own things on the computer, much to my surprise, getting a surprise visit from the principal, to find me on facebook, while the boys were super quiet. "Why is everyone asleep, Isaac?" What!!! Asleep? I had just seem them reading and even asked them questions to which they responded, however, within two minutes of our conversation, they had fell asleep, making me look like a horrible teacher. I couldn't believe this. The rest of the day I was walking around with none other than a yard stick, long enough to connect with any student that dared to wink in my class. I made sure to bring my name back up to the level I previously had it with Ms. Beauregard.

The rest of the day was a constant fight trying to get them to do anything. Lunch was late, making everything set back an hour, and making me sit out in the sun 3 hours instead of two. This makes no one that I know happy to be left in the oven an hour longer than intended. In the world of baking, your cookies are now burnt crisp black and ruined. But, of course Mr. Isaac can withstand the heat WHILE continuously yelling at first graders who refuse to listen to anyone with the tone of white skin. It really is getting to me, the lack of respect these students have for other races, or, maybe, other people other than the Beauregard family. It that was my last name, it would be instant respect!

After lunch, I was determined to find a better way to keep grades, which actually worked. Instead of doing it longhand, and not knowing exactly how to figure everything up at the end, I need something on the computer and found just that. Thank you GOOGLE for always being there. I just searched 'online grade book' and WHAM! Out came the perfect software, which was downloadable and free. After doing the tutorial, I caught the ropes of it, and got it down pat. Putting grades and assignments in was so easy and will save so much time and reduce stress immensely. This alone is going to help my last quarter go so much better as I will have much more time and much more information to show parents, as the program breaks down every subject and assignment for parents online. Thank you technology!

Tonight I was interviewed by Mennonite Mission Network on the phone, as they wanted a story about the Miami DOOR program to put in Sunday School packages to try and teach people about Miami and our program. It was an honor to talk about this, as I realized how much it really is changing me. As questions were shot my way about things such as what I am learning from my boys instead of teaching them, it was fun to have to answer immediately, which only comes from the heart. I really am making a difference in their lives and in mine as well. I, slowly but surely, am shaping into the man that God intended me to be...through the help of five young Haitian men. And I will gladly call them men, knowing exactly what these boys have been through. Only men can go walk in their shoes and keep smiling!

THE RETURN

2009-11-02T18:35:00.000-08:00

So today was my first full day back in the states, and my first day back at school. I was unsure how I would be received. While in Haiti, I kept hearing word from the principal that they boys thought I quit on them because they ran me off. First of all, they have to be almost stupid to think they could run me off that easily. They all even wrote me letters telling me that they promise to come back if only I would give them another chance. One boy even said, "I don't know where you are, but I hope you are enjoying it and relaxing, because we really miss you hear and want you to come back. I almost wonder if someone didn't write them a template and tell them to say something like theirs. Who knows.

When I got back, the people wanted to hide me from the boys, so they thought I was still gone. So, like a good employee, I went along with it. I got on the phone in the office, called the back room where they were and talked to them, but told them I was in Kansas. Then, I ran back to the room, opened the door and the whole school stood up, clapping because they were happy to see me again. That really is a beautiful thing to see after returning.

The day continued, but it was really hard to do anything as I had no plans, and hadn't thought about school for over a week. But I went along with it, and had a very productive day, as the boys actually did pay good attention when I needed them to.

After school, I was required to have grade cards done today, and stick around all evening for parents meetings. Even though I KNEW that none of my parents would come, I still stuck around. Much to my surprise, 2 parents came, but only one stuck around after the big meeting to talk with me. That was the only parent that I didn't need to talk to , as his son in the best in the class. It still is shocking to me how these people just can not get it out of their system to accept failure. I sure learned that you can take the person out of Haiti, but you can not take Haiti out of them.

As I was in school today, I revealed to the kids that I had spent the week in Haiti. Of course they were excited, and I showed them pictures. We all shared stories about their homes there and what I saw. It was a great experience to hear about how they grew up there, now that I can picture how they actually were. Knowing what my boys went through to be where they are today just makes my heart melt. I can't picture my boys waking up early to go to the city dump to collect scraps for the family, or hiking 3 miles to get the family water every day. I truly do appreciate them 100 times more after experiencing their culture first hand.

My blogs throughout the week of Haiti are still being written, as I was without power for about the whole week, and without my computer. But the story should be worth waiting for, or at least I hope so. If I can write it half as well as God let me experience it, then it will be worth reading!

THE ALIAS!

2009-10-24T19:31:00.000-07:00

Once again Friday, and the weekend has come upon us. And, once again, tests were given. The usual task of a Friday in my classroom. With giving a take home test in Science on Thursday, I was curious to come on Friday and see who actually did work on it, since the had their books, notes and internet to help them. When I arrived at school, only one child brought his completed, in which he got a 91% on. I was very pleased. Another student brought his halfway finished, while two didn't even bring back the test, and one didn't show up to school. Wow! What an awesome turnout on the easiest 100 points they will ever be given in their lives. For actually trying and bringing back the test, I let the one boy finish while I was out in the lunchroom, doing my other duties. I really want to try to get these boys grades up before the final grades go out in a week, but I do not know why I am the only trying to do this. Not the boys, their parents, or anyone. Only me. So, I gave him a second chance.

While I was out tending the small children spilling milk everywhere and doing everything else first graders do, Mr. Samir popped his head out in the lunchroom and told me he needed me. I came in to find my one boy with his face down, as Mr. Samir held onto his unfinished test, and someone else's test as well. "Ask him what I caught him doing," Samir said as he turned to my student. Of course there was no response, so Samir told me anyways. "I caught him digging in the other boys file to find his completed test, and he was copying down his answers." He was actually cheating on an open-book test. This is something I had never heard of in 22 years. It blew my mind. I gave him many opportunities and this is how he reacts. I think 50 pages, front and back, of "I will never again cheat in Mr. Isaac's class again" over the weekend ought to teach him a lesson.

This week has been a stressful week for me, the boys and the people in school. It was just one of those weeks for everything, as things got stressful with grades coming out shortly, but this occurrence really set Mr. Samir and myself off. We had a nice little conference with the boys, explaining to them where their lives are headed with actions like this. They now understand they are on their last straw, and they may not be coming back to school next year. At least not to YLC if this behavior continues to happen. As Mr. Samir blew up on them, he told them that they have had plenty of teachers come in to help them, but they have ran everyone off, and now that they have me, they are trying to do the same thing. He said, "Just take next week off Mr. Isaac to show them what it will be like when you aren't here anymore." (They are clueless that I am going to Haiti for a week anyways) This got the boys going, as they know next week will not be easy for them at all. They will soon appreciate how easy they have it with me. The rest of the day they were apologizing for their behaviors and asking me to stay. I played it off pretty well. It was glorious. If only I could see their faces on Monday when I am not there.

Today was very lazy, as I prepared to leave on my trip. Getting my oil changed, pack bags, get money, and get medicines were all on the agenda for today. As well as driving up north to see my brother Nathanael. He flew in about 45 miles north of me today, so I drove up and spent the evening with him, and another one of the pilots that was along for this trip. It was fun to go around the city with them, and catch up again with my brother. We enjoyed driving around, going shopping and eating some amazing sushi, followed by a fun movie in the hotel room. (Since it was the same price as one ticket at the theater.) He will be coming back to Miami this coming Thursday through Sunday, however, I will be getting back from my trip after he will be gone.

In about 5 hours, I will be leaving for Haiti, where I will basically be out of touch with America, unless I really need it for an emergency. Knowing my past, I will most likely need to get ahold of someone, such as Mom and Dad for an insurance card or something, but hopefully I will get along fine. Malaria medicine, pepto bismol and other necessities have been purchased and packed to help prevent any types of sickness. Hopefully they will all do their jobs just fine. However, I wish there was a pill to prevent being hot, since the 7-day forecast for the next week is 100 degrees and rainy. Please pray for our group as we depart the States early in the morning, and pray that our ministry will be welcomed gratefully by the citizens of Haiti.

ANOTHER DAY

2009-10-22T19:07:00.000-07:00

Thinking back from today, it was very bland. Nothing exciting, saddening, or maddening really happened. It was just another day filled with back-talking, sleeping and curse words being used profusely in the classroom. Practice was cancelled, due to our win and lack of a field to practice on so I was able to come home and relax for a change. It was awesome to just be able to have the entire evening to relax.

Being Thursday night, we were required to be a "community" and do something as a house. DOOR sets one day, or evening, apart from everything else to hang out together, getting to know our housemates better and better as the year continues. While sometimes I feel like doing other things, or feelings that somewhere else would be more exciting, tonight I was excited to be a part of it. We went to JJ's church, which was having an open art show of local artists. With JJ being in Pennsylvania for meetings, the girls and I drove down south to the church. There was around 6-10 artists with their work represented, with age an age range of about 12-75. The different styles were very fun to look at and try to figure out what the artist was thinking or trying to convey to their audience. With my art show just around the corner, this was very exciting to see other artists and their ideas. Seeing other works really helps inspire other artists. Not really copying other artists, but if a possible idea is seen, take it, change it, and make it your own.

After this event, we chose to go to Shorty's Barbecue joint, which is supposedly the best barbecue in Southern Florida. With this amazing accomplishment at hand, and a Kansas boy and Texas girl present, the biggest argument of the year has came about. Just WHERE is the best barbecue located. Of course, I know that it is in Kansas City, but she, for some reason, thinks that it is from Texas. This is like a 1A school playing a 6A school, and yet, we all know the 1A Kansas City Barbecue takes home the trophy. This argument has gone through texting of friends and research done online to find out just where exactly the world's best barbecue is at.

Living with people we don't know at first can often be a hard thing to cope with at first, but it is through many experiences that tend to draw them closer. How are we gelling as a group here in Miami? So far it seems to be going just fine. We all have a very relaxed attitude about most things in the house and how we do things. While there are the hard moments and tense situations that are bound to happen, I feel that we all come through them very well, with a little more appreciation for the person we were upset and how they believe about something. This experience with living with others is really something outside of my comfort zone, but that I am forced to be a part of. I am one that really likes things to be my way, and get in routine then stay that way. Living in a community, this is never going to happen, and I need to learn this. It would just make life a bit easier. And always being right in arguments is something that was bred into me. I think both my brothers and myself inherited that gene from somewhere, because we all go to the ends of the Earth to prove that we are right. Just like I try to do over something as stupid as BBQ. While I can do this with certain people and know that inside, even though we are taking it to extremes and getting under each others skin, at the end of the day we can both agree that it is a dumb argument and the only reason it is being made is to just be obnoxious. This sounds like the story of my life. Doing things to get under people's skin. Irritated. I don not know why I like doing this so much, because some day it is going to catch up with me, when I do it to the wrong person, or group of people. Such as those that you live with! This aside, we all know that KC has the best BBQ in the land.

In about 60 hours, I am going to be loading a plane to go to Haiti. While I think about this, it has not kicked in yet how different things are going to be there. I have not mentally prepared myself for the things that I am going to see. I have been looking at pictures of Haiti and the people, and it is amazing the differences that the US and Haiti share. Will it be somewhat like Guatemala or Bolivia, more like Kingston, Jamaica, or somewhere else that I have been before? I do not think so. No matter how hard I try to prepare for this experience, I feel God is telling me not to worry about it, because it is going to be so much more different than anything I have seen or experienced. It seems as if there is no real preparation that I can do to prepare properly for it except pray and sit back to watch God work!

DITTO

2009-10-21T19:30:00.000-07:00

To save typing time, reading time, and thinking time, I will keep this part short. Today in the classroom was a repeat of yesterday, only about 100 times worse. Could anything go right at all? Can just one single day, every student in every school respect authority? It really is not that hard to do. I have never had a day where I totally wanted to give up on everything. That was, until today started.

When I reflect on my time here in Miami, and especially at YLC, I think back to the days when I was scared to go to work. Scared to drive anywhere. Scared to stay at home with the new people I was living with. I had nobody. I was a nobody in this huge new world. However, I always had God. I got closer to God in the first month than I think I have every been. You always have a friend in Jesus. Why is it so easy to remember him in the hard times, yet, when things go your way, he is put in the backseat, or maybe even the trunk? That is exactly what has happened. Things started going my way. I learned my way around. I got to know the attractions of Miami and the beaches. I got to know people, and get asked to do things. But did I ever invite along with me, the closest friend I had made in the first month. For some reason, I always forgot to bring God along.

When God is left alone, it seems like he would have other people to hang out with. Why would he be mad if he wasn't invited to MY night. He has about 6.3 billion other people that he could tag along with until I was ready for him, right? Well, God doesn't work that way. God wants to be a part of everyones conversation and everyones activities. No matter what! Does God repay people? Does he make you realize that you are a nobody? Would such a loving God really put his people through something like this loneliness that we put him in. Sometimes, I think he does. Quite possibly what happened to me today. While God did not leave me, he sat back and watched as I struggled to make it through the day. He was there to hold me up in the hardest times, yet, when I got back on my feet, God let me go. And this is when I "remembered" God. "Please let this day get better!" But all I hear, or sense is, "Now you want me. When you are alone." That is exactly what I noticed. I really was alone. No one was on my side, not even administration. Nothing was right. Did God forget me? Of course not!

I feel like I was reminded of something that happens quite often. How often do we go through life, cruising on God's coat tails, but never recognize him for success, or talk to him during the good times? I am the world's worst at this, but I am trying to get better. I could really improve on this best friend relationship.

For the rest of the day, we had another game. The boys were motivated much better today, and took control of warmups, since we were short on time and I had a coaches meeting. It was a great feeling, after such a day full of crap, to look over while meeting with the refs and see my boys lining up like I always have them do, and warm up at a good pace. They wanted to be there, and it was obvious. We went out, scoring on the first three drives of the game. It was awesome. Even though our defense was not the best, letting them score several times as well, improvements were being made. We went into halftime trailing by 6. But the second half is always our half. Always. Since the boys never listen in practice or do the plays, we make them run. And run some more. Then again. While they often give up on the running too, and just stop, we make them jog. We have them in shape, so we outlast most opponents in endurance. And that is what won us the game today. Near the end of the game, the other team started getting laze, throwing passes up in the air carelessly, giving the EAGLES the perfect opportunity for interceptions. Which is exactly what we got in the last quarter. Two, back-to-back interceptions stopped them from scoring. We capitalized on each, putting it to a final score of 24-20 for our second win in a row. The "new" and improved Eagles are 2-0. Undefeated. (That is, since our change in the roster after three straight losses.)

FRUSTRATION

2009-10-20T19:34:00.001-07:00

Three day weekends still seem to be my least favorite type, even though I have more time off. I'd rather come to school all five days, and have less time, then let the kids think this week doesn't matter and struggle through four days from Hell.

Forgetting how it was last time, I went in with a pretty good mood. I went back to the room we worship in, but only find 2 out of the 5 that I teach. This is typical as one comes halfway through worship, one comes sporadically through worship and the other always comes 2 hours late to school. Even though it is all chopped up in different time zones that they come in, I have gotten used to it and accepted it into my schedule. I do what I can and evolve my teaching around it. I finally am learning how. Until today. After worship, they all come to my room where the principal surprised us all, waiting for them. She makes the ones that are late call their parents demanding they be taken home until they can learn to come to school on time. Now, once my schedule is accepted, it is being demolished by sudden organization and strict administration. I am no complaining about their choices at all, or how they are fairly acting on everyone coming late, but I am just tired of finally getting in schedule, then they change. It is starting to look like life is just one big schedule change, and I will have to get on board or get left behind. But how can the train leave the engineer behind? No one is going anywhere without him, and neither are those boys!

Two weeks from yesterday marks the first marking or grading term. We send final grades out to parents. A few weeks ago, progress reports were handed out at parent teacher meetings for the parents to look over and show their students. We do not mail them out, because we want to know that the parents actually see them and understand the grades. Well, out of 5 families, I spoke with 0; and still have spoke with 0. Do people down here just not care about schooling or their children, or is this a nation and world wide problem? This is a huge problem. Come two weeks from now, when all my boys are handed out F's, I figure I will have 5 families to explain to. But will I really? Another frustrating thing.

With the two students I was allowed to have in class today, I talked with them about this, and their grades. It sparked a fire for the morning, but soon, them trying to improve died out, just like every fire eventually will. Where is the gas when you need it? With two students, you would think the day would be easy. Follow your plans, but only feed 2 mouths instead of 5. Thats less than half a days work really! But when it is to a class which is failing as a whole, it is hard to teach. Do I go ahead with these two boys, which happen to be the best students I have as far as grades, and just leave the others, giving them no chance to do well at a test, which will eventually slaughter their grades even more? Or do I mess around all day with these two, making it look like I don't care about my job to everyone in the office? It is a hard predicament to actually find a good answer to. It is tough. Real tough!

They made up the decision for me, however. They decided to be bad students all day, which made it easy for me to just load on the homework and punishment lines that they have to write, which is now a ticket into my room. The lines not done, they will just join their buddies at home tomorrow. Sounds fun for me right? Well, how do I then try to help improve these grades? They don't care if they have to stay home, because it is a day off. However, I'm still at school, dropping their grades, looking like the bad guy that is out to get them. (You may be saying, but it is the child's fault. Exactly. You are correct. That is, until it is your child in my classroom, then, this story becomes hogwash and I'm the bad guy! Exactly!) This is what I am worried about! Which then gets the administration involved, making me have meetings in which I show them all the work these boys have turned in, which is nothing. I have nothing to show for it, which means I haven't assigned homework, making it look like I have not been taking the job seriously! Gotta love the domino effect.

But I must remember, on the fourth day, God separated the night from the day, and it was good. And it IS good! The nights let us get these bad thoughts of failure out of your mind, and let the sunlight, or day, be a new beginning. Tomorrow is a new day! (Now, I just wish that God would have spent that seventh day creating a remote control that could control children. My life would be perfect then!)

A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS

2009-10-19T19:15:00.000-07:00

As the day began, I tried to think of something to do that Mom and Dad hadn't done. Possibly, we could get it in today before they had to return. If they make it back to Miami as often as they had before this visit, they will be 104 and not able to walk down the beach, so I made sure to get EVERYTHING in. We had to be to my school for a Creole lunch at noon, so I decided to take them back to South Beach, since when we went it was cold and no one was there. People watching is a favorite past time of our family, so we needed more people to have fun. And today, with the sun out, it was exactly how we needed it.

We once again parked inland and walked towards the beach, as this parking is much cheaper. We made it out to the hill that divides the beach from the city, and continued to cross over. The very first person I see on the beach is laying on their side, watching the waves. From a distance, I thought it was a European man, wearing his speedo, however, the closer we got, I noticed the bottom piece tied on the sides. This was most definitely a woman....without a top. Now I have never seen a topless girl at the beach, but always hear that they are older women who are way past their prime. Not the typical "beach babe" that someone would actually want to see in the nude. Not that I am saying I would ever want to see any girl in the nude, but, to be fair to those that do, the topless ones usually wouldn't be asked to pose for any magazines. This girl, however, most likely could have posed in PLAYBOY. Now you must remember who is walking with me. My mother and father. What an awkward way to start the day. That is, until I look up and notice they were both gawking too and laughing about what they were seeing as Dad and I were continually making jokes. They say going on missions really gives you a cultural experience and let me tell you, this is something that I have never seen at the Anthony Lake!

As we left South Beach with common images running, or laying, around in our heads, we took out north toward YLC for the last time. When we got there, we were welcomed by my staff with white table clothes and piles of food creating mountains on the china they keep at the school. It was a much nicer meal that we could have purchased anywhere else in the area. Rice, beans, conch, grouper, onions and peppers, broccoli and fruit champagne. An amazing spread. While this is the menu almost every day at school, it was fun for mom and dad to finally get to experience the food that I enjoy everyday. Eating this makes me really excited for my trip this coming week after this one as I travel south the Haiti where I will be eating fresh conch everyday! I absolutely can not wait for that part of the trip, and the trip as a whole!

After lunch, we left the school in search of something to do for the four hours that separated us from the time that I had to drop of the parents at the airport. Since they were flying out of Ft. Lauderdale, we decided to go explore up around that area. Being the ADHD patient that I am, I always have to have something to play with, even when I am driving. Today just happened to be a pen that I had in the van. Of course, since one hand is always on the wheel, I have to use my mouth as a second hand for playing. I was putting the end of the pen in my mouth, pulling out the end piece, then push it back in. Well, while driving through an intersection, this all happened at once, and very quickly. I bit the end off, hit a bump and scared me, gasped for air, and sucked the stupid end of the pen straight down. Where? I am not sure. It either went down my trachea into my lungs, or down the esophagus straight into my stomach. Still, about 4 hours after the event, it feels like it is still lodged in my throat, but can't seem to cough it up. I have puked once to see if it would come up, yet, there was no sign of anything "lime green" in there. So, who knows where that little thing got to. I am not about to start digging through other things each day looking for it. Don't care that much.

I dropped my parents off about 4 o'clock at the airport and said goodbye. I hate how hard this is to do! It was awesome having them hear for the weekend, and know that I will miss them this coming week, but life goes on. It will be exciting to see them again come Christmas. When one person comes, the next exciting event is when someone else comes. I just received word today that I may have another person coming in a few weeks to visit. This is always exciting and I can not wait to entertain again. Maybe this is my calling in life!

AND ON THE SEVENTH DAY HE RESTED, BUT WE DIDNT

2009-10-18T19:31:00.000-07:00

The morning came a bit quicker for us today, however, this was the plan so it didn't bother me. We woke up and debated going to church, but who really wants two services in a row? Well, it isn't that bad, as I do about every other Sunday, but we decided to do something else. South Beach it was. We headed outside to leave, but quickly turned around for our coats. It was FREEZING outside. How were we going to go to the beach in the cold? Well, Mom and Dad aren't exactly beach bums, but just enjoy walking, so we didn't care.

We got in and drove through town, passing all different people in coats and hats trying to stay warm. I looked around trying to spot the snow flakes coming down to make the roads slick, but wasn't so lucky. We passed a bank with one of the huge signs that has the temperature. A big 72 slid by as we kept on trucking to the beach. We stopped for coffee and zipped up our coats as I rolled down the window to get our drinks from the drive-thru window. Honestly, I really was cold. Like, s

hivering...for real!

As we got to South Beach, we parked, walked to the beach and stopped to make sure we were in the right place. Everything lined up right but wait, South Beach had NO ONE on it. And th

is was the weeke

nd. Their busiest time. Who here is honestly dumb enough to go out there in a coat though? We are. We had the entire ritzy beach to ourselves, but didn't stay long. We stuck our toes in the

water, feeling how hot it was, as water doesn't change drastically overnight like the air does. The rainstorm from yesterday actually

acted as a cold front, lowering the temps, however, it isn't supposed to last through Wednesday, which really is unfortunate. We walked all the way up South Miami beach, then back down through the town. Near the end, we stopped for an awesome omelet brunch. We quickly got back to the van, avoiding a parking ticket as our toll was running out shortly. (This is just the back side of the beach at South Beach, where everyone walks the streets.)

We left Miami Beach and turned the wheel to face Key Biscayne, one of the northern Florida Keys that actually is just east of Miami. We really wanted to go to the aquarium, seeing dolphins and manatees, but the $40 fee per person didn't suit our budget, so we just drove around looking at the sites. What an awesome place that I didn't even notice was right in my back yard. I will definitely be going back.

(This is the Everglades, looking eye level out of the fan boat.)

This being the day for discovering, we decided to go to

the everglades as well, another site I had no idea was just the same distance in the opposite direction of my house. We filled the tank of gas, which doesn't last long driving all over souther Florida, and continued on our mission. Just on the western outskirts of Miami starts the everglades and it doesn't take much longer to get deep into them. We saw a sign for Cooperstown, or ville, or something Coopers, but stopped in. They had "The Original" fan-boat tours, so we hopped in. I had seen pictures of these and of course watched them in "The Waterboy" and always wanted to experience one, but had never been here.

Knowing Mom and Dad wouldn't be back for a while, we decided to do it. What an awesome trip it was. Flying through the marsh and swamp seeing all sorts of wildlife, even the gator that came right up to me on the boat. Why he chose me instead of someone else of the 12, I don't know, but it was awesome. Absolutely loved it. The tour ended and we came back to the city, going to my friend Alicia's house for supper and games with some local DOOR alum. Another great end to an even better day. At this rate, I can't wait to see what tomorrow holds!

(This guy came swimming right up to me. I may have reached out and touched him!)

ALL IN A DAYS WORK...OR PLAY

2009-10-18T18:21:00.000-07:00

Mom and Dad's first real day in Miami, I woke up to the sound of silence in the house. Usually, when at home or when they come to visit, the sound of them walking through the house wakes me up. However, this was different. Maybe they braved it out and went for a walk through Little Havanah, but who was I kidding. I found each, still passed out in the beds that I let them use for the night. I must have been too rough on them, or else my boys were. Now they know how I feel each day when I come home from entertaining, babysitting or whatever else you would like to call my job.

We woke up about a quarter after 8, which was pretty late considering I was supposed to be at school by 8:30 for a gardening project. We hurried around and made it there by about 9:15 to find that they still had not started working, but everyone was still showing up. This is the beauty of Miami time. No one cares what time things start, but come when they please.

We spend the morning planting the gardens at YLC and interacting with the children of the school some more. It was really fun to have Mom and Dad come and see the kids a bit out of school, yet, actually having fun doing some community service for the school. Everyone loved having them there, as not everyone had the privilege of having them in their class, but only got to say hello while passing. The only bad part about this is that they now think my parents are the cool ones, since they basically spoiled them. From now on, the kids are always going to be asking where they are and why they are not coming back.

We left the school after we ate an amazing Honduran and Creole lunch prepared by the school chef and by the elementary teacher, Miss C, who is Honduran. Mom, Dad and myself loaded the an and took out for North Beach. I showed them around Little Haiti some more on the way, but quickly changed into the ritzy area of Miami and the beach side. We walked down the beach almost half a mile and just sat relaxing in the sand together. Shortly, we noticed people running in, but didn't think anything about it until we felt a few raindrops. I checked the sky and nothing seemed promising for rain, but we decided to walk back anyways. On the way, the storm moved overtop the building, which was blocking our view of it. Being the only ones not in swimsuits, we got drenched on the way back. However, it was good to be wet as the heat was starting to get to us.

We drove home wet, with the windows down which really helped my failing AC keep us cool. We quickly showered, changed and got ready to go, as we hit the local mall. It was my first time in a mall here, but the scenery inside was as if I was still in Wichita. All malls are the same in my books. Mom did a great job at spoiling me, which is always appreciated, yet, I felt guilty accepting everything without being able to pay a bit. As we kept walking the halls, we noticed it was getting near time to go to church so we headed out.

We stopped at home and picked up Julie, then darted to church. We got their just as they were starting the music. This was the Lighthouse, the very contemporary church that we attend as a house. Mom and Dad really seemed to enjoy the service, especially the music which is by far, the best thing they have there.

We ended the night by taking Mom and Dad to Scotty's Landing, a local seafood place that almost has like an Applebee's menu, only with fish. It is a nice place to relax with candles and live bands right by the ocean. Couldn't ask to a better end to a fun day!

PARENTS

2009-10-16T20:02:00.001-07:00

Another Friday has come upon us, and will shortly leave us.

Being Friday, it was once a day full of tests in the classroom. State tests and spelling tests; the two that are every single Friday no matter what. As I handed them out today, the boys started complaining again. They are just like clockwork. Someday, I want to do a magic show. Tell people that I GUARANTEE that I can make these boys complain. Then, just give them a homework assignment or a test. Simple as that. Seems like they would realize they will never win, and make me take it back.

Today, they got to work, and were right in the middle of it when Mrs. Beauregard came in and informed us we were having a guest speaker today for the whole school. I had them flip the tests upside down, and go join the rest of the school. Little did I know, this would take the whole morning, but I had nothing to complain about. Meant I had a morning off from responsibility and teaching!

We all sat in the back room and listened to a woman talking about Haiti, its history and the culture. As I am preparing to leave for Haiti, it was interesting to learn a bit about its history. I made sure to pay close attention, yet, watch for those dozing off and make sure to give them a nice big poke. She started talking about their ancestors coming over from Western Africa, being forced into slavery by the white man. As many times as I have heard this story, seen videos on it and listened to songs, it never had the effect on me as it did today. Listening to a black woman address a black crowd about being proud and remembering what their ancestors did for them to be in a free world today, really had an effect on me. But why so much more today than any other time? I had never been the only Caucasian in the room when hearing it before. Talk about depressing when you hear all these black people talk about the white man bringing them over. It felt as if every eye glanced my way and shot looks of hate at my distant ancestors! I tried to slouch as low as I could, but when you are sitting in from on a crowd in a chair with nothing in front of you, there is nothing to hide behind. Learned that real quickly today.

After the presentation, I drove up to Ft. Lauderdale to pick up some strangers from the airport that needed a ride to Miami. I finally found them, and got them loaded into the van with their luggage. They quickly informed me that their names were Brad and Brenda Shue from Harper, Kansas. Sounds like a lovely place they come from.

I took them back to the school, where they had prepared a large Haitian feast for us. It really was fun to introduce my parents to all my kids at the school, especially the ones that I work with the most. As a writing assignment, I had them all write their autobiographies and then read them aloud to the class, my parents, and I. While I didn't know what to expect, they all did very well and it was fun to hear what they thought of me and how these thoughts have changed. One kid admitted he has been scared to get out of his chair and move without my permission because he didn't want me to step on him. Where he gets his ideas, I have no idea, but that definitely was a new one for me!

The rest of the day we sat in the room and talked about Kansas, as mom and dad would answer questions for them. They really do have a genuine interest in my home and seeing where I come from. I wish I had more pictures to show them, because GOOGLE images always gives me the same pictures when I type in 'Kansas.' Ma and Pa spent an hour or so doing this, then giving them trick math problems on the board. They really thought I had a family of messed up people when we could always guess what answer they were going to get. They don't think of trying to figure out the methods, but just love getting the thrill of watching someone guess their numbers. It was quite funny to watch.

After school, we came to the house and all took a nap until about 5:30. It felt amazing! For the evening, we spent it at an event to help raise money to send to Haiti. A lot of my students did a dance there, so we went to support them. After this, we took Brad and Brenda to a very good Thai restaurant on US 1 called 'MOON.' The sushi was terrific, but I think the company was even better.

It is awesome to be able to show my parents the life that I am now living and introduce them into a culture that is totally new to them as well. Can't wait for the rest of the weekend.

MATH

2009-10-15T19:35:00.000-07:00

While it seems like so much longer, I haven't even been here a full two months yet. The weeks just fly by, however, the months are crawling by. And I am not complaining. At first I really wanted it to go fast, as everything was new and unfamiliar, but, now that it is my 'life' for now, I am wanting it to slow down. I am almost halfway done! While I feel like I just got here, I still do realize that I have indeed been here about 60 days. That is more days than I have ever been in a real relationship! Don't know if I should be admitting that!

Today, I wanted to try things a little different than what we have been doing for these two months. Since Mr. Samir is now teaching the middle school, I feel like I can relate my work with his a little easier, making sure my boys are learning what the rest of the middle school is learning. Only, on a more one-on-one basis. For math, we took them back and team taught about 25 of the little rascals. And that is exactly what they are when they are all together in one room. Too bad they weren't as funny as the little rascals. Might be much more entertaining to sit through. We decided to put some large multiplication and division problems on the board, seeing who understood what they were doing. While everyone worked fairly quietly, we would help those who wanted a little extra help. My boys never raised their hands OR came up for help, but just kept working. A few people said they were done, got their papers checked, then went to correct their mistakes. Then, one of my boys shot up. "I'm done!" he announces to everyone. Slouching in my chair, I was nervous to see what kind of answers he came up with, as I had seen him try and do these before. Did he just rush through to beat everyone and look cool, or did he actually do the work? This is my worst student in math, so I thought I knew the answer. He brought it up to me, I worked each problem out, looked at his work, and realized this boy got everything correct! What an awesome feeling to see that what I have been working on with them, is really helping them exceed past the expectations of the mainstream middle school class.

Being new, and placed in such a weird "title" at a school, given all the special needs kids, I really wonder each day, "Am I doing them any good?" I understand I am not the only teacher that wonders this, but that it is a common question among teachers. How do we know if we really are reaching these kids or doing anything to further their education. Well, when something like this happens, it makes me do nothing but smile!

A WIN IS A WIN!

2009-10-14T18:00:00.000-07:00

The YLC Eagles have not had a game in some time. Since our last game, as a coaching staff, we decided to get rid of some boys hurting the team, add other with promising potential, and start completely over with square one. Practices have really been going much better since this change. While this was promising, we were tested today with the first real game as a new team. What was the outcome? Our first victory. Finally we feel like we are doing something right as coaches, and moving forward as a team.

While we won, it did not come easy.

We were playing two teams on the field at once. The real opponents, and the refs. I have never witnessed a game so one-side by the refs in any sport at any age level. It was absolutely ridiculous. However, the boy

s stuck through it and pulled out with the 'W' at the end of the game. (The picture is of myself and Mr. Samir trying to coach these guys, but obvious frustration by our body language.)

The win aside, today was a day full of mixed emotions. The day seemed almost promising as all of my boys were finally allowed back in school except for one. They all came with their lines full completed and ready to learn. At first, everyone would pay attention as I just had to pull out my stack of 84 papers, completely covered with Colossians 3:20, written as their punishment, to remind them of the power I had over them. This worked for a bit, as they would quickly get back to work not wanting to be punished again. However, each minute seemed to get worse and worse, as they started talking back, being lazy and falling asleep in the middle of the presentation. When they do this to me, that is one thing, but they crossed the line today.

We had guest speakers in the school today, teaching about science and a garden project we have going on at the school. Each Wednesday, they send a few college students to come and teach a lesson to each grade. During middle school my boys, along with the rest of the middle school showed no respect for us as their teachers, or for the guests in the room. The talked, slept, and sat their lazily, not paying attention through the whole presentation. They would not answer questions being asked, or even try to participate. I never knew how bad a teacher could look during this kind of thing until you are the teacher being represented. Right now, those college kids are telling people that Mr. Isaac and Mr. Samir have no respect from their children and are horrible teachers. All because our kids are too disrespectful to show any courtesy to anyone in any sort of authoritative power. Could it be a culture thing? Possibly yes, but at what point is that put aside and actions taken place? That answer is today!

We kept the entire middle school after 30 minutes of school, letting them have the biggest chewing of their life. I can guarantee they heard things they have never heard someone tell them today, and been pushed to do something they haven't ever did. I talked a bit about why I am exactly here and what I really am doing for their school. They had no idea that I was hear to learn about their culture and relate it back to people from other cultures to help and try to connect cultures or mix them in ways they haven't been before. When I announced to them that I understood they don't respect me because I am white, they listened. They never thought I caught on to that, simply because I never said anything. But it is very obvious.

I am excited to see if anything will change from this, as I already had 2 or 3 of the students come up and apologize for their actions and want to get better. Others have already started simply listening to what I say, knowing that I am in authority over them, regardless of my skin color. It will be good to see what happens, and I am anxious to start seeing the changes that I know will take place in their heads and attitudes.

CULTURES

2009-10-13T19:28:00.000-07:00

Being in Miami is not something being done to have fun for a semester, to "get away" or to learn to be on my own, however, it is a time for me to be immersed in another culture, learning about what makes it different from others and learn to appreciate how it works. Miami, as most likely known, has a very large Haitian community, which I have really became a part of. When I first found this out, I will admit, I was some what nervous. You hear stories about how poor Haiti is how much crime may happen. So should I be scared to be hear? Should I be watching my back for crime at all times? While many people would answer 'yes' to these answers, I am going to say no! Not at all.

Growing up in a predominantly white community and white state, I often hear stories about crime that happens there as well. However, for some reason, we are not scared to continue living in our communities. We hear stories and listen to people affected by someone such as BTK, the most notorious serial killer in history, living a short 50 or so miles from our hometown of Harper, but does that make us question our own culture and stay away from there. Of course not. We went on living life as if nothing was going on. Some may have been more cautious, but what I am getting at is why do we question another culture when we hear about the crime they have, even though we have our own as well. Did God not tell us to stop worrying about the speck of dust in our neighbors eye when we have a plank in our own eye? Maybe God was not just meaning this on a personal basis, but on a cross-cultural one as well.

Being safe in our own homes away from crime, the only connection to other cultures we receive is through the television in our living room, broadcasting live in front of the yellow crime scene tape. Why do they never go to another culture, perhaps a black culture, and do a story on how all their children are also passing school and going on to college? Why do news stations not show us the 'real' culture, showing how nice people really are? Show us the "ripe apples" in the bushel instead of that one rotten one? Being here for two months now, I am coming to realize that crime is something I have not experienced or been accustomed to in this new community, yet, I have graciously been welcomed. People see me and respect me as the teacher who comes to help their children learn and grow to be better people.

It really has been recognized as an experience that I would not have received had I not make the journey down to Miami to experience something like this first hand. Had I taken the views of the news stations, or other people who have heard stories of what may go on in neighborhoods, such as the ghetto of Little Haiti, I would have gone to the grave with the complete wrong perception of these people. I hope that my experience can be taken by others, and make them see a different side of what the world sees the 'ghetto' as.

Earlier, I asked the question why God puts someone like me in a place like Miami to do missions. God is already present and doing great things here, so why do I need to come down to do his work? People are not always placed in other communities or cultures to show God's love and save the nonbelievers of that group, yet, they are placed there to learn about other cultures, and what they truly are, then, return to their own group of people, spreading the news. I feel that I have been brought to Little Haiti to learn from them and learn about them, bring it home, and teach others who have been given a false opinion or view of that community or culture. Before coming to Miami, I was one that would often judge a man due to where they came from. I would grab my wallet when walking by a person of different color. With this experience, I am really pleased with what God has SHOWED ME instead of what I have showed others. This experience has not been to better the people of Little Haiti, but to change me as an individual and God is doing just that each and every day!

To wrap things up, I ask that you could just remember one of my boys and his family in prayers. I wish I could write why in detail, yet, it is not my place to do this on a public internet site, but just remember (we will call them the Smith's since there obviously are no 'Smith' Haitians) this family in prayer!

ITCHY

2009-10-12T18:53:00.000-07:00

There is only one word in the English vocabulary that I think I can use to explain how I feel. There are several adjectives, yet, only one specific word that gets the entire meaning. Itchy!

I wake up and see nothing around me. Lights are off, no light shining in. However, I am so wide awake that I feel as though I could go to work totally fine. I roll over in my bed, grab my phone and push a button, igniting the lights showing me it was 3:07, obviously in the morning, as it is completely dark outside. No chance I overslept so bad that it is in the afternoon anyways. At this moment of confusion, I realize why I am awake. My feet feel like they are on fire. All the way up to my calves. As I reach down to grab them, I feel tiny little bumps all over, obviously swollen bites from the bugs that were in our tent in the Keys. I put on the tallest socks I own, and just pray that they will quit itching and I would be able to get back to sleep before I turn my legs into a bloody mess. After what seemed like an hour, I finally got into a comfortable position. Instantly, I woke up to the sound of my alarm. Thankfully, I had gotten back to sleep and rested the rest of the night without interruption.

While they didn't feel so bad when I woke, I still could feel them under my socks, waiting for the slightest bit of irritation, giving them an excuse to start itching again. How was I going to get socks and shoes on without hitting them just right? I just did it normally, and told myself not to scratch. Not as easy as you would wish, but I succeeded.

Through the day, I started feeling more and more bites making their way up my legs and into my back. It seemed as though there was something in them, helping them spread across my body. While that would be horrible, I am sure it is just the same bites, only taking more time for them to react, making the "itch" appear. I remember feeling them bite all over my body, even though my feet were the only bites visible with a bump or red mark.

I went to school, showing the people I work with, all my little bites and asking for advice of what to do to make the itch go away. While no one knew what to do, they all were very impressed with how many bites could possibly fit on my calves and feet. By the end of the school day, I had visible and painful bites up my back, stomach and across both arms, as well as the first ones on my legs and feet. The itch will not go away, yet, just get worse with each touch. Finally, my principal, who is an M.D., got a cup of vinegar and told me it takes the sting away. Being desperate, I dump it all over my legs and go to practice. It cant possibly smell worse than the sweat and dirt that mixes in the air during football practice.

I went through practice trying not to irritate them a bit. However, this was the worst part of the day. Sweat would slowly drip down my legs, getting into the bites that I had scratched enough to open the skin. This, caused my legs to naturally lift up and rub the other one on the calves. Well, wearing some athletic shoes with velcro, I lifted them, and started dragging the show down one leg. The open velcro (rough part) hit my bites, scratching the crap out of them. This made them light up like crazy, leaving me no other choice than to just lay into them with the velcro, rubbing them and scratching them hard. My self control finally had left me.

Practice never seemed to end, but eventually did. Driving home gave me time to not think about them, and not scratch them, as I would wreck. By the time I got home, I had forgotten about them, and went to shower. What happens when a powerful shower hits something? It almost itches it. With my body covered, the shower was like a power washer, or sand blaster as it felt like my skin was being ripped off. At this moment, I start to think about my room mate Erin again, as she had so many bites yesterday. I went to her room, and found her scratching her legs. She too had thousands of mounds protruding off her legs and looked much worse than mine. This is the moment I knew that I was going to live! Thank God. Maybe this is punishment for rubbing my camping experience into those I know in the snow and sleet. However, I still prefer this I think.

THE KEYS

2009-10-11T19:41:00.000-07:00

Two months in to the adventures of Miami, and I was still yet to leave my five-mile radius like bubble around me. It seems like so long since I have seen anything other than skyscrapers lining the beach, or thousands of cars all going for the same exit and blaring their horns. I needed to get away. Desperately. And what better place to go to get away from a beach city than to another beach, right? This weekend, the house and one of our friends, packed up and headed south for the Florida Keys. This is a trip I have always wanted to do. To get on US 1 and drive as far south as you possibly can do. We packed my van full of food, clothes and camping materials and took out for the weekend.

We drove and drove and drove until we finally got to where the keys started. On a map it looks a lot shorter than what it is. The continuous 45 miles per hour speed limit a

lso puts a kink in things. Why are speed limits really necessary when traveling on a bridge over the ocean with casual breaks every time ano

ther key comes up? Doesn't seem logical to me, however, we arrived safely.

The original destination was Bahia Honda Key and State Park, as this is supposed to be the nicest beach in the Keys. It also had a camp ground so it seemed like a perfect math for us an our tent. Finally, we get there, go to the little hut to see if we can get a site to find out this is Columbus weekend and they have been booked for quite some time. A

wesome! What do we do now? Well, we took out for the next key that we knew had open

camping, which was Big Horn Key. About a five minute drive over more br

idge and more ocean. We arrived, looked over the grounds and decided to camp there. After paying and getting everything out, the tent was put up and "camp" was settled. Being two feet from the beach, we didn't have far to walk to the water. However, it was not the beach you would think of, but pure coral and hard rocks. We were the only people there

. We took out walking around the key on the ba

nks, as the tide was out revealing lots of hard coral for us to walk on and explore. We spent the afternoon doing this, and burning our skin at the same time, as we wou

ld find different animals such as jellyfish, snails and hermit crabs just lounging in the pools left in the corals. It really was an awesome spot. (The

picture is of the beach at Big Horn Key. It is coral and hard rocks as the tide is out, leaving behind the p

ools of water teaming with marine life.)

On the walk back to the tent, I looked up just in time to not run into two deer; walking the same path as I was. Weird right? This key actually is the home to an endangered breed of deer known as Big Horn Deer.

This is the only place in the world to find them, as the

y never leave the island. Not like the Kansas deer that total cars, these fellows were little! Barely taller than my knee, and definitely not bi

gger than my waste. Almost looked like toys running around. At one point in the evening, I got one to eat out of my hand. This, come to find out, was a mistake. The deer left, and eventually came back with 4 others. He went and told them that we were ha

nding out food I suppose, but they would not leave cam

p. It became annoying very quickly. (This is me feeding th

e deer. You can thank my room mate Megan for making the picture blurry.)

Speaking of annoying, we quickly became annoyed with the gnats there, as they would bite like crazy. Right through bug spray even. And they hurt! While the actual bite hurt worse than the fleas I experienced in Bolivia, the after bite welts were not even comparable. These itch a bit, but not like the fleas did. Not even close. These are comparable to a mosquito. In the morning, after the long night in a tent with no covers, no pillow, and what seemed like 105 degree humid air and no breeze, we awoke to thousan

ds of bites all over everyone. My room mate Erin got it the worst though, as her legs were just annihilated. Really felt bad for her. I know how bad my feet itch with the 568 bites I got, I can't even imagine

the 934 that she received just on her left leg.

We all packed up the tents and camp and took out to the Bahia Honda Key again, to try our luck. Since we weren't camping this time, we

were allowed in to the beach for the morning. We got there, noticing we were only the second people there. While it was not the imported sand beaches that most people think of, it still was a very beautiful beach, especially knowing it was all natural. The smell though was horrific, as the natural seaweed was all washed up on s

hore. (This picture is a picture of the natural beach at Bahia Honda Key. It was OK I guess.)

We swam for the remainder of the morning as more and more people started coming. Finally, about 11:30 we took out on our way back to Miami. However, we had one more destination before we were to do that. The famous, or infamous Alabama Jacks. A nice, Floridan hick joint that was famous for their Conch Fritters. According to their signs, they were the best in the Keys. However, I think I saw that same sign in

every window of every restaurant this weekend, so who knows. I went with the "always safe" hot wings and french fries instead of the fresh seafood. Why get something fresh and original to the area instead of getting the americanized food right? Well, had the fritters not been battered in bread, I would have eaten them, bu

t staying healthy with a two hour drive was fine for me.

We finally arrived home about 3 or 4 this afternoon, to yet a still, hot and balmy Miami. Kinda was hoping winter would hit while we were gone. No such luck. Still sweat every time I even think about going outside. We all brought in e

verything, got showers and got some laundry going.

This evening, I went out to Chilis and had supper with some friends from YLC to celebrate one of our coworkers passing her state boards and becoming an RN. It really was a fun time to hang out outside of work hours and rules. Getting to know someone outside of a school work zone is always fun as the true colors come out, not what they show the kids at school they are like. While I have been here for a bit now, I am still getting used to the racial part of it though. As we entered Chilis, I was most definitly the

only white person in there, except for my friend Alicia who was with me. However, not everyone turned and looked like most people did at the Chilis I worked at in Goshen. People here, I have noticed, see people, not race when they walk into a door or place. It really is awesome, and I am so glad that I finally am becoming a part of this culture as well.

This weekend was an awesome getaway for a bit in between work weeks. Now, back to school for another Monday as the countdown star

ts until Ma and Pa arrive on Friday. Four short days and then they will be here. To experience and live a bit of the life I am living. In Mia

mi! (House shot L to R: Isaac, JJ, Erin, Megan, Julie)

FULL MOON

2009-10-08T20:56:00.000-07:00

Growing up, hearing about the full moon was something that happened every time there was one. Well duh! Why would anyone talk about the full moon when there wasn't one? Living with two teachers, they would always talk about how bad students are during full moons. Naturally, most likely because it was my parents saying this, I thought it was made up and went to any measures to prove them wrong. How could this possibly effect students behaviors, people getting sick, and anything else strange that happens at this time? Well, I have came to this conclusion. Parents actually do know what they are talking about! Believe it or not, even though parents are stereotypical "not cool" anymore, they have been on the Earth a day or two and know what they are talking about. Never would have thought this to be true had I not been at school this week.

Lately, I have caught myself sounding just like my dad when I say something like this to the kids. They ask why I tell them to do something, to which I do not have the straight up answer. It is just one of those things you know from experience that you are making them do the right thing. I always pull out the, "How old do you think I am? Ok, out of that 37 years (they all think I am 37 still) do you not think I have had to make that decision once or twice. You can do what you want, but I am telling you, the decision you are looking at right now is not going to end up being good!" Then I close my mouth and say, "Shut up, Brad!" Followed by searching around my head looking for the real Isaac. The one who should be saying, "Do it! Get into trouble! Have fun with life and get hurt. That is how you learn."

Back to the full moon though, children become little tyrants during these phenomenon. There has been absolutely no control over them this past week. If I remember right, we are just coming off a full moon, which is when my parents said was the worst. We have had children kicked out of school, children trying to stab teachers in the eyes, children telling teachers that they should just go pee on themselves, and other things unimaginable. I would love to say it is something with the Haitian culture, however, after being here a month, almost two, I know better than that! Had my first week been during a full moon, I would have been on the next plane out of MIA to Harper, KS, also known as, "normalville." At this remark, some may be laughing. Harper? Really? Normal? Yes, actually. I have never seen students do things like this in that peaceful little town. The reasoning behind this: I was the one doing those things to teachers back in the day. Therefore, I never saw it being done. God really does have a sense of humor. The reason I am down here is to work at a school crazy enough to hire me, just so God could pay me back for a few people, such as: Mrs. Zirkle, Mrs. Allen, Mrs. Easter, Mrs. Graves, Mr. Buck, Mrs. Nichols, Mr. Hoopes, Mrs. Dunkleburger, and every other teacher out there that had the privilege of having me in class. To all of you, three simple words. I. Am. Sorry.

After these days or weeks of full moons, why do we as teachers keep going back to work, week after week, year after year? Two more words. First Graders! These kids are great! They will liven up any day. Doesn't matter if your feet just got ran over by a bus and someone punched you in the face, these guys can get you to smile so easily. And without even trying! After watching my 5 boys disrupt the whole school today, I sat in the lunchroom with a scowl on my face, wondering why I had to sit in the 106 heat index and watch these kids demolish their piles of spaghetti. All except one child named Marcfredi. His mission in life is to make me smile, but he doesn't know this yet.

"Mistah Isaac?"

"Wes"

"Do you have a wife?"

"haha, no Freddy, but that was a good question."

"Well......who buys you things and does your dishes?"

Needless to say, I lost it, and couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day. Where these kids constantly come up with these thoughts and ideas just kills me. And why he thinks me, a 37 year-old male, can't do my own dishes just flatters me. Maybe the moon was talking for him, I am not sure, but these little guys keep me coming back for more. I never know what the day will hold, but one thing is certain. I always have a story to write down!

BIRDS, WALRUS AND TESTS: ALL IN A DAY'S WORK

2009-10-07T19:41:00.000-07:00

Test days. Can be good, but usually are bad. Getting my guys motivated to take a test is about as hard as getting a sumo into wrestling spandex. Not impossible, but unlikely. Then, multiply it by two and give them two tests in one day? Never again! My first mistake of the week; not a bad start!

Language and Social Studies, the two tests being taken in Mr. Shue's classroom on this hot, humid Wednesday. The day started off by finishing homework out in the sun, which was already about 85 degrees by nine in the morning. Quickly, the work was done and the tests were able to be handed out. The first one went fairly smooth, with everyone anxious to finish and try to work their grades up. On Tuesday, we spend the English class period studying. Directly off the test. I gave them every question with the correct answer. You would think someone would catch on that I was reading them straight off the test. No such luck. Sitting there like bumps on a log, not involved with studying at all, the information obviously escaped what they call their heads. As they start reading instructions, the questions immediately start coming to me, followed shortly after with the complains of it being too hard. Eighth graders complaining they don't know what a verb is, even though we have worked on nothing except verbs the past two weeks. Did they ever bother taking notes? Never!

This test ended, followed by the lunch break. I took the tests outside to the lunchroom to grade when all hell broke loose. Sounds bad, but not really. It was just hot as Hell. Literally. Heat index of 105 degrees. Funny thing is, I think when I heard that, they neglected to mention "Celsius" after it, because I know my blood was boiling along with the sweat bubbling out of my body. I sat down to grade papers on the desk placed outside for me. One of the fifth grade girls, Angelica, always comes and sits with me to talk. She is a very fun child to talk to, with great stories. As we are talking, we look up to see her first grade brother getting his brains pounded out by a kindergarten terror. This boy came to school just recently, and has had nothing but bad tempers as he tries to shove pencil into anyones eyes that come near him. Quite scary. However, he has suddenly become best friends with me, respecting me every time he sees me. "Good morning, Mistah Shues!," he says every morning with a smile. This time was different, however, as Angelica went flying over to save her brother. "Get off him!!!" she yelled as she grabbed her little brother. The boy doing the beating looked straight up at her and flipped the bird. And let it fly for quite a long time until I realized this was reality and noticed what really was going on. I flew into action, grabbing the little boy by the hand still up in Angelica's face, in one steady swoop, swang him out from the table and onto his feet. At this moment, he starts kicking and hitting and swinging, doing anything he can to get away. Little does he know his little arms are about as powerful as my friends pet hamster. He isn't going anywhere. After much wrestling around, I manage to get him into the office and away from little kids. The principal got him settled down and seated while I stared from across the office with a stern look on my face, trying to scare him. "YOU ARE A WALRUS!" he yells at me with tears in his eyes. Now, I don't know a soul on Earth that wouldn't laugh after being called a walrus. An insult I have never heard of. Where does that even come from?? Wow! Anyways, I laughed and asked the principal to correct me if I heard wrong. Then came, "YOU ARE A COWARD!!" He just let them keep coming as I went back outside to finish up lunchroom duty.

If I were to say the rest of the day was uneventful I would be lying. If a day ever went by at YLC uneventful, God would be playing a joke on the staff. That is just something that doesn't happen. After today, I can officially say I have: had a whole class flunk a test, except one student, joked with a nun about her having bad children, seen a teacher walk out of class and school with all her personal belongings, been stood up 4 consecutive times for a parent-teacher-meeting, and made children write out the whole book of James as homework, just to prove that they read it. Yet, none of these stories could possibly top being called a walrus!

LOCAL FARMERS

2009-10-06T18:59:00.000-07:00

Growing up in Kansas, I really understand how important it is to support the local farmers of the community. Shopping in small stores instead of Wal-Mart, eating at a hole-in-the-wall burger joint instead of McDonald's and shopping at the local grocery store compared to the Publix or Dillons is just a way to help keep money in the local economy in this tough time.

So what is a way that I can support the local economy of such a diverse community like the one of Miami, or even Little Haiti. I could eat at the local taco stands sitting on the edge of the street and risk getting H1N1 or something. Maybe something more like salmonella, but either way, I don't want to be contaminated. Take some time now to think of a way to support the local community. What does the economy thrive on in Miami and Little Haiti? What makes the world go round here? Here is a hint, if you support the local economy, your world will to start spinning around too. Possibly, in ways you may not want it to. Give up?

Lets talk a little bit of Haitian gossip (according to the boys I teach at YLC) before we get into this. According to my boys at school, getting drugs, specifically cocaine or weed, is very easy to come across. They are a very common purchases in the neighborhoods around the school. They tell me there is only two options in life. Make some money doing something like being a mechanic, barber or another fair paying job, or make the big bucks by selling dope. What great options we have to work with here. Work honestly and make enough to barely feed your family, or, make one big sale, and buy a new Corvette or Dodge Viper to cruise around in comfortably. This makes it look like such an easy choice for someone growing up in the community that can catch on to the ropes of the trade. And what better way to help out your local buddies, right? Keeping the economy up in your neighborhood, right?

Well, driving and working in Little Haiti for the past month, I have been getting familiar with the places, learning which ones are ok to go to, and which ones I should stay away from. Funny thing is, Little Haiti has been getting familiar with me as well. Something I didn't even think about.

As I was driving home today in my amazing 15-passenger creeper van, I drove the same route, waving to the same people sitting on their front porch, as they willingly wave back with a smile. I then continue on towards the freeway, passing local vendors and children playing. All in the same spot as every other day. It is like clockwork. Same beggars, same cars, same everything. Anyways, today, as I drove towards home, I came to a stop sign where I saw two of my students talking with a local man. I slowed down, trying to get the children to notice me so I could wave at them. However, I didn't attract their attention, yet, I did capture the eye of the man that I had never seen, wearing a due-rag with dreads hanging out the back, and wearing a wife-beater. Keep in mind, I am leaving school, driving home in the hot sun with the windows down, cranking Rodney Atkins in a place that has never heard country music. Must I add I am so white people need shades when they talk to me to protect their eyes. Everything I am doing, including transporting a digital camera, iPod and MacBook Pro on my front seat is out of the ordinary. (Now, after all that description,)

I come to a stop at the stop-sign to look in my mirror and see this man coming towards my van. Now, history (and growing up in prejudice Harper County) tells us that in this situation, roll your windows up immediately, lock the doors, and spin your tires as you tromp on the gas pedal to get away. However, being a little "too comfortable" with my surroundings at times, I just about put the van in reverse, saving him a few steps. The man comes to the passenger window putting his arms and head inside my van. Without hesitation, I say, "How are you doing today?" Of course at this time, most people would be freaking out, but like I said, I am very confident in this community now, and don't think the usually "worst case scenario" anymore. Looking at this through cultural eyes, this is an awesome step. Looking at this with my reality goggles on, this is suicide. However, he looks me straight in the eye and says in a low voice, "What do you need?" At this point in my life, after opening my mouth to puke out a few sudden butterflies, I realized just how fast the human brain can think. To be polite, I have to answer this guy within about 2 seconds or less before something bad could possibly happen. However, all these thoughts are running through my head: Tell him sorry for being on his turf and drive off, get the students attention and have them vouch that I am a teacher and mean no harm, tell him I am lost and ask for directions to the interstate. Come game time, none of these came out. What did was, "What do you mean, what do I need?" The little voice from inside the head at this moment says, "IDIOT! Go and get lippy with the guy!"

Now think back to when I said Little Haiti is getting familiar with me as well. Driving the same route, people start to realize who you are and where you are coming from. They recognize everything visual about you. Well, this guy too, a local salesman, noticed me and wanted to cater to what he thought was my needs. He looks at me and says, "Yea, what do you need? You know, weed or something?" At this moment I knew I was now welcomed in Little Haiti. At least by this dealer. What an awesome feeling of being accepted into a new culture. With it getting a bit late, I kindly declined the local, ignoring my chance to support the economy I am living in. Hopefully, from this point on, I will not be judged or known as, "The white dude that drives a horrible van, but won't buy the drugs."

MONDAY MONDAY

2009-10-05T19:38:00.000-07:00

As I awoke for school this morning, it took me no time at all to realize that I had not had the appropriate amount of sleep to quickly jump out of bed. Usually, I am a morning person. One who wakes up singing, whistling and anything else that may show signs of happiness. However, this morning just wasn't that morning. Maybe, just maybe, I was having a "case of the Mondays!" Quickly, however, I snapped out of that, waking up completely as I got ready for work. I was going to make this a good day. If the week starts off bad, there is no turning it around. And I am quickly getting tired of bad weeks at school.

Driving to work, I just prayed that the boys did their homework. This makes it so much easier to be happy with them, and get the day off to a better start. I should really start making them turn their homework in the last thing of the day. This way, every day will not start off bad finding out they didn't do their homework. Would they rather me be so upset through the day of school, or at the beginning of football practice. If I id it at the end of the day, I am pretty sure that they would not appreciate me as a coach, as I would run them to death, just out of revenge for what the put me through. Anyways, the drive to work was not long enough, as it never is. My time to relax and think about the day.

When I pulled in, the school was still standing with no graffiti. Two great signs after returning from the weekend! I walked into the school, got to my room/table/area/conference room/movie room/whatever else they decide to turn it into, and got ready for the boys to get out of worship. When they arrived, they quickly got out their homework, or what they had finished, and turned it in. Those with work missing, have become accustomed to the drill of walking out into the sun to finish their homework. Today, everyone was out there for at least one assignment, but they are getting better as we only spent about 15 minutes finishing up the weekends work. They really are getting better at finishing homework at home, which makes my life easier and much more fun.

We got started on class, but, about two hours after school started, there was a knock at the door. Of course it was one of my boys, who comes to school late everyday. Usually about two hours is the time it takes him to finally get to school, but is never in uniform and always has a different excuse. He forgets that we were all his age only a few years ago, and know all the excuses there are.

Today we learned about subjects, verbs and predicates, multiplying dollar amounts, landforms, and a little bit about volcanoes. It really is interesting starting on one subject and listening to how they change the subject to things they really find interesting and then going on them. Tomorrow, I am going to try and take baking soda and vinegar into the class, and make a miniature volcano for them. I know they will love it, as I don't think they have ever done an experiment before. Getting them involved is the best way to get these boys to learn.

To make the day even better, we finally purchased our tickets to Haiti, making it as official as you can before you go. Hopefully my passport reads Isaac David Shue, otherwise, I may have to forge it on there somehow. We will see in a few weeks when my parents finally get out this way to visit their favorite child.

For football practice today, we started over on block one, as we taught them all the basics again. When a team is doing horrible, such as 0-3, you really have to look at what you are doing wrong and make the right adjustments. When this means letting some boys off the team that are taking advantage of what we are giving them, it has to be done. Not always the easiest thing, but they realize they are a cancer on the team, really only there for the wrong reasons. One boy didn't want to play, but cause trouble, and he knew that, therefore, letting him go was not a hard deal. Other boys were forced off the team due to grades. After these were let go, we recruited more boys and started over today. Now, it is going to be a good season. Practice today was 100% better, as the new roster came ready to learn and play. Now I am sure that the Eagles are going to win. No question in my mind! We have over a week of practice before the next game, therefore, there will be no excuse for failure this time around.

FREAKY FRIDAY

2009-10-03T22:15:00.001-07:00

The Friday day of tests. Once again, it was test time at Yvonne Learning Center as every week we test over the states and spelling words. This always tends to be quite a task getting the boys to actually try on one of these, let alone, both of them. However, when bribes are on the line, that is a different story. This Friday, I told the class that if everyone studied quite a bit, and passed with A's, I would bring pizza in for lunch. Never in a thousand years did I think that I would be out some money on pizza for lunch. Come time for the tests, I always mess around a bit, giving the boys a bit more time to study. I put the tests off more and more each time allowing them to try and pass, as I know they don't study at home. However, during this time period this week, the boys came to me saying, "Please Mistah Isaac, let us take the test now! Come give it to us, we want to get our A's on it." I NEVER thought this would happen. Come test time, I try to have fun with the test, being a bit funny in the way I answer questions. Listening to the way they respond, and how fast they were putting answers down, I was getting worried that I was going to have to buy pizza, which I didn't come prepared to do, as my money was at home.

The tests were taken and handed in. After the first two A's, I was so happy with them that I was tempted to just go get pizza. However, the next three turned into D's or F's, which cancelled out the factor of buying pizza. Thoughts of doing this anyway ran through my head, however, I knew if I rewarded them for not accomplishing our goal, they would never strive to reach it, knowing they will get the prize anyways. Therefore, I could not get myself to reward them.

Being movie Friday, there was nothing else going on, and no possible way I was going to get the boys to actually pay attention or learn anything, therefore, the rest of the day was spent trying to figure out what we were going to do with them next week. I figured, why not do lesson plans while letting them give me their input with what they would like to learn. As we do not really have a curriculum to follow, I can teach basically whatever comes to mind that I think they should know. Basically, we all start on one lesson, and let whatever comes out. The other day we started talking about how corn is grown, and ended up with light years. How it happened, I am not sure, but the learning was amazing as they all were very involved as they led the discussion in this direction. I feel this is almost the best option for teaching these boys, because they are not going to pay attention to the subjects picked if they have no interest in them at all. Such as how corn grows!

After school is let out on Fridays, the rest of the day is like a sudden blur. Why? I am unsure, but I think it has something to do with the fact that it is part of the weekend, which always flies by altogether. Why the days of the weekend aren't as long, or seem as long, as the weekdays, I will never know! But that is how life is, and will always be, according to the drunk guy I talked to on the beach this afternoon. He told me I will never catch up with life, so I just need to stop trying and enjoy the water! Perfect advice for the weekends in Miami!

THE ANSWER!

2009-10-01T19:54:00.001-07:00

Grade cards just went out. Everyone had the same grades. To be fair, I won't state what letter grade they got. However, be creative with your imagination. Anyways, how do you explain to children this is the grade they will get when they never do their homework. They will not understand it. Nothing in this universe will ever get them to do homework and turn it in on time. So, how can you give them a grade? Good question. Today, however, I found the answer. Not being too well prepared for teaching anything today, I just took them to the sunny, outdoor cafeteria, sat them down with the books they needed to complete their homework, and just watched them the entire morning until each turned in every assignment to be graded. I then took them in and introduced them a bit to an art thing we are doing. I showed them a bit of reward for actually getting the homework done, even though it wasn't their choice. This finally gave me an opportunity to see their own actual work, completed without cheating. And without exaggerating a bit, each boy turned in an "A" on at least one paper. It was an awesome feeling.

What is even more amazing, was reading what one boy wrote for writing class. They had to write ten sentences of their own, underlining the subject, predicate and circling the verb. One boy handed me the paper and this is what I read in one part:

4. My life occasionally is fun.

5. I wish I was at home.

6. I hate coming to school and doing work.

7. This year is the worst year of my life.

After reading this, I asked him, "Is the reason this is the worst year of my life because I am your teacher?" (Remember, it was awesome for me to hear this. I loved hearing this. Made me realize I am here for a reason.) No answer was given as he smiled at me uncomfortably, as his head was shook no, then yes, then no. "Well, what is it? Is it me? Am I pushing you too much? Do I expect too much out of you?," I continued to ask wondering why this year is so bad. It seems to me that he has been having fun most of the time. "Well Isaac, last year we just came and sat, screwed around and had fun. We didn't have to learn or do homework. I flunked, but I don't care, cause I had fun. We actually have to learn this year!" AWESOME! I love it!! This is the best thing I could have heard. Do I feel bad for putting this kid through hell and back this year. Not a bit! Right now he feels that I am his enemy during school hours. (He comes in after school hours and we are best friends. This is only school talk right now.) When he grows up though, hopefully he will look back at what I am trying to do for him and he will remember with a huge smile on his face.

So what is wrong in this school? Is it just my boys, or is it everyone? It is not just this school, or community, but it is the culture of Haiti. I have finally came to realize that these people are not expected to succeed. In anything. Their culture tells them that they can not make it. They will be poor. They will sell drugs, or something to this extent. This is their only option. To flunk out. Their families give up on them, because they are a mouth they have to feed with no money. And this is not just a habit in school, to give up, but with everything. Our flag football game today was lost because of our attitude. Two boys volunteered to get on the bus. The other six we had to force, yell at, and make them get on the bus to go play. You can lead a horse to water, but you won't get him to drink. This is so true. We got them there, but couldn't make them play. Warm ups were pitiful, followed by a horrible first half. Thank God we were playing a terrible team, so by half time the score was 0-0. Then, after the half, it was the game of scores, but we had wasted to much time, and cared to little go get a victory. We ended up losing 12-26 as the last play ended up in us throwing a hail mary, getting it intercepted, and them running it back. It was much closer than the score showed. Was I still mad? Yes, very! We made too many awful, stupid mistakes and our attitudes told everyone we didn't want to be there. We played a good game, but the way we presented ourselves was outrageous. I hope we can turn something around before our next game. It will make the outcome something these boys haven't experienced, in anything. Success!! A win! Victory! And I can not wait!

WHATS ONE TO DO?

2009-09-30T20:18:00.001-07:00

What's one to do?

What's one to do when your voice is not heard?

When you try to teach, to coach, and you feel pretty sure

that everything being said

is going straight through their head.

It's a different world I'm living in,

so what's one to do?

What is one to do when you give it all you've got?

And it's thrown back at you, as if the food is too hot.

You pull them aside to become their only friend,

then you receive the only message they're trying to send.

I don't want to be here, I am not going to sit!

F you Mr. Shue, this class is bullshit!

What's one to do when you must give a grade,

but all that I have is the empty folders I made?

Homework is missing, it never is done,

I can't give a grade when I've only received one,

grade that is, but thats just a test.

One thats an F because they won't do their best.

What's one to do?

What's one to do at the first parent night,

when you sit at your desk, not a soul in sight.

Does no one care, for their young child's grade?

Or to even stop by and see the picture they made.

If their not worth the time, what message does that send

Would they even notice their kid, being blown, in the wind?

What's one to do?

What's one to do as you hear a kids story?

He sits in your class so his parents won't worry.

I'm his only option, I find out today,

to keep him in school and out of jails way.

Stealing a bike may seem kind of fun,

but what is the fun without a loaded gun?

What's one to do to get them ahead,

as they do things that may get them hurt, or dead?

How do you get failure bred out of a soul,

when its been fed to them constantly on a spoon and a bowl?

You're not worth my time, get out of my life!

The words they hear their dad tell his one wife.

What's one to do for a poor hungry child?

Who refuses to learn, which now is the style.

It's cool not to learn, I'll just go sell drugs.

That'll get all the money and make me big bucks.

I don't need you teacher, you're nothing to me

I'd rather be home, please just let me be!

Do you buckle under pressure,

and give up on this kid?

Believe what he says

just to get rid?

Make my life easier, my class has one less

or hit the next gear and take your own test?

Let a kid think, that their better than,

the system before them? Wow! What a man!

I don't need help, force or a gun

just me, a book, and a kid one-on-one!

I'm not giving up, I've got faith in you!

Your family may not, but listen! I DO!

I'll make these boys read,

never giving up hope,

They won't make their money,

selling weed, or dope!

This isn't their future, but doctor's and such,

Yea, I dream big, but I'm not asking much!

Give me patience and grace,

I pray every night,

to help my three (now five) boys to open their eyes.

Make me an example.

This is my prayer.

And let my boys know, I WILL always care!

DAY AFTER A BREAK

2009-09-30T07:22:00.001-07:00

School was not in session on Monday, as it was off for teacher planning day. Like I said, these days are awesome to have away from the kids. However, the penalties that follow does not make up for the hell they bring to class the next day. This makes me almost happy I don't have to be here when they get back from a break such as Christmas. If giving them one day off makes them this bad, then giving them several weeks of would be unbearable.

Dear God, please be with the person who takes over my job in January. I pray that you would start to prepare them at this very moment for the task they are going to be engaged in. They know not what they are getting themselves in to.

Thank you LORD.

Your humble servant,

Mistah Isaac

When class starts everyday, homework is the first thing addressed. Everyone gets out their homework or they sit there ready to endure what is coming if they didn't do it. Today, everyone just sat there. That was, except for the two kids who usually do. They pulled out there work. I could not believe it. The funny thing was, we didn't have homework for the weekend. Not mandatory anyways. I gave extra credit. A chance for 50 points, or half of a test. After everyone in the class flunked the test, these two were the only ones that came prepared to try and better their grades. Will their parent teacher conferences be easier than the others? Most likely. Their grades still are low as they were turned in, but will change. For the others, how do you not do a simple extra assignment to receive tons of points. It is incredible! I just can not figure this out. Something the world will never know, is why students will not do extra credit, unless it is right when report cards are coming out and they want them better before mom and dad see them.

Then came football practice. It is the day before a game. Should be a good practice. Everyone should be ready to get out there and get with it to win the game tomorrow (actually today now). After being beat by 34 points, you think they would take things a little more serious. I don't like coming back and telling the school how bad we got beat, and then having other students laugh as we walk into school the next day. However, this was not the case in practice. Everyone wanted to just mess around, forget their clothes for practice, complain that it was too hot, make excuses to go home, and ask every other minute to go to the bathroom. They do not know it, but we are going to have a totally different lineup today when we take the field.

My autistic boy that attends every practice, does what he can, and wants to play will be my starting center, even though he can not hike a ball properly.

Dear God,

Please be with my boys today. Please be with Alec as he tries to snap a ball. I pray that you will just let his hands grasp the ball properly and get the ball to the quarterback every time. Be with my other boys as they stand extremely mad on the sidelines wondering why they aren't playing today. I ask that you will also be with the other coach, as he shows sympathy on us and doesn't run the scores up.

As your humble servant, I ask this,

Coach Isaac

Having a game on Wednesday, right in the middle of the week is a good way to break up the week for the boys. Hopefully they will play good and learn something, even if it is how hot you can get when you run. I hope they learn some sportsmanship as well.

I do know one thing they are going to learn, and that is to be in shape. If they lose like they did last game, they will know the real definition of a conditioning camp.

Then, come Thursday, we turn around and have another game. What more could go wrong this week. I never want another break in my schedule other than the typical weekend. I have quickly learned it sets up a horrible week!

TEACHER WORK DAY

2009-09-28T19:57:00.000-07:00

I remember back to the three day weekends we had as students due to inservice or planning day for the teachers. These days were amazing for both the teachers and the students. Still to this day, these days are awesome for everyone involved.

Today I went in about 11 o'clock (an hour late). It was a horrible morning. I was supposed to be in about 10 o'clock, which meant I had to leave about 10:15. At about 10, I decided my hair was getting long enough that me going bald was becoming very apparent. (News flash everyone! I take after my dad! As if no one knew that.) Therefore, I decided to shave it. Of course it looked totally different, taking an inch off. I felt like I looked so retarded, even though this is still longer than what it has been the past 4 years. Oh well, it is just hair, and it will grow back, or be cut even shorter tonight. Who knows.

Today I found out I had to have all my grades in tomorrow. Had I had a normal class, this would have been horrible, but I have only the 3 boys, therefore, I was done in about 30 minutes. While this seems easy to give progress reports, I never knew how hard it was to give someone an, "F" on a document that parents would see and would be stored forever in the metal cabinet at the front of the school. One of the boys had very poor grades across the whole board. I did not know how I was going to present this to him, as he tries very hard in class, just doesn't complete homework. At this moment, I looked up and he was standing there with a HUGE smile on his face. So glad to see me. He is always glad to see someone who cares for him. I found it the perfect moment to sit him down and talk. This was very difficult, but he really understood everything I was telling him, and I could tell that he was really shocked to see that I actually would give him a low grade, and not just be the "cool" teacher that handed out A's. I don't know how I am going to do it come the end of the marking term if their grades have not been improved.

The day was spent just talking with other teachers with their ideas about teaching strategies and class discipline. I really found some helpful things that I think will really get the boys interested in learning and having more fun in the coming future.

When I returned home, it was instant lights out! I took the best nap of my life, waking up about 8:17 this evening. What an amazing nap! I woke up to the smells of supper prepared by the ladies of the house, which proved to be quite a good meal.

Tomorrow will be a good day full of learning and fun. (I was always told to be optimistic, but I don't think this is working mom!)

THE DAY OF REST

2009-09-27T18:46:00.000-07:00

Sunday. The day our Creator rested. A day set aside to remember the Sabbath Day. What an awesome privilege!

Waking up and deciding on what church to go to is one of the coolest things that I think we are allowed to do. Something I never have had to do, as I have always just walked 20 feet behind my house, found a pew and sat down to listen to several different men over my life. However, being on your own, you have to chose to do this, and I am glad I live in a place that allows me to do just this.

Today I attended Coral Gables Congregational church for the second Sunday in a row. I really do like this church. It is the most like home, which can be a good thing or a bad. Today, as we walked in, we were told it was "Green Sunday" as they practice things to save the environment such as not using paper bulletins and reducing light usage. However, when we got there it bulletins were handed out and the lights were glowing. It was a surprise service for the pastor, as it was the 30th anniversary for her ordination. Her family, friends and past colleagues were all present to celebrate this occasion. It was a great service, but I think it would have been even better had I known the pastor a bit better. One of the speakers and her close friends was the President of the University of Miami. She was the U.S. Secretary of Health with the Clinton administration. It was cool to see someone with this power coming to church to recognize and celebrate such a great mark in this pastors life.

After a longer service than normal and sitting through service with a broken flip-flop, I slid out of church because I could not walk normal. The flip-flop "popped" during a hymn not allowing me to walk normal. It was rather embarrassing to try and walk to great people, but I did what I had to do.

Our house, along with Miss Alicia, the other Caucasian at YLC, cooked lunch at our house. Chicken Shishcabobs (or however you spell it). It was an awesome lunch followed by an awesome afternoon at the beach. Several of us spent the day in South Beach, walking through the city and laying on the beach while the others stayed back and watched the Dolphins game with some old friends. The beach was awesome, as it was not hot enough to be miserable out. Sometimes the sun is so direct there that you just fry. It was a prefect day to lay out there though and watch people. People such as the lesbian couple that was kissing, the homeless women laying on the sidewalk and calling the policeman that was trying to move her some profane words, and a man carrying a 5-foot albino python. You always run into some different people in that part of the city, but it is awesome to see the different cultures and people represented in such a small area. You never have any idea the stories or lives that have been lived that are now crossing paths with your life on the beach.

Right at sunset, I saw some dorsal fins swimming out in the water, telling my room mates to watch out for the sharks out there as they were taking off for the water. Of course they didn't believe me, yet, when the people sitting around us started saying the same things, they watched for a bit. Suddenly, groups of dolphins were jumping and swimming as they and the pelicans were feeding there close to the beach. What an awesome night to see God's creation as the sun rays were coming over the buildings in the background and the lightning bolts were coming out of the heavens above the ocean. All forms of natural light were just being illuminated over the water, and it was a spectacular view. God is so good!

SERVICE

2009-09-27T18:30:00.000-07:00

Saturday! My day of rest. Not so fast.........

This past Saturday, the house went down to Florida City where one of my room mates works at an after school program called "Branches." Branches is in a very poor place where there seems to be lots of crime. The whole town, while built full of big condos, is all government funded housing. They were built to try and attract people to move there, but the opposite occurred. No one moved down, and now these nice houses are all really part of the "hood." It is funny to know you are in the ghetto, yet see all these nice houses!

Their program had a family service day for the kids in the program and their parents. Wanting to see where our room mate worked, the ones available from our house went and helped. They had many events or things planned for the people that showed up, however, it poured rain all day. Therefore, I do not know how much got done that they wanted done and h

ow much improv they did at finding jobs. However, I was assigned to paint murals all day since they knew I was an artist. The first one was to continue or finish a mural of a tree that was already started. It was very hard to do as it was not my style, didn't have the same paint colors (so I had to try and mix to match) and was painting in a small, very busy hallway. Very packed with people at times. Work seemed impossible there. Finally, after that was done, I was put in the outside bathroom, trying to make it look a little nicer. They lets kids loose

in it one day with paint and brushes to make a mural, but they wanted something to almost cover it up. I felt bad covering the work of the children, so I tried to fill in the blank spots with Hibiscus flowers. They always said in painting class that you should paint things that interest you. It makes the work look better and you have more fun doing it. Well duh! Let me

tell you, hibiscus flowers are not my favorite thing in the world. I kind of feel bad because I did not do that good of a job, and it was really hard to go back and try to fix them, as I knew they just weren't me. (The two big flowers are the ones I did, over top of some of the little kids art.)

As the evening came to a close, we ate supper there with the locals and the people of Branches and then came home to reunite with our room mate JJ who had been in Pennsylvania with business the whole week. It was good to finally have my room mate back and get a little bit of testosterone back in the house. All the estrogen was starting to get to me I think. We once again are a big (little) happy family!

THE DAY OF TESTS

2009-09-27T17:59:00.000-07:00

I have never really known exactly what my boys have been learning. It is always hard to really tell exactly what is going on in their heads. Do they really do their own homework? Well, when they turn it in. I always hated tests growing up, but I knew that would have to be the way to tell. I would offer the option of letting them write papers, but I know none of them would want that at all, therefore, I just wrote them tests. Four of them to be exact. English, Science, Social Studies and Spelling. I thought this would really be an easy day, as I would just sit and work on things for next week. Most teachers would know though, four tests on one day means grading four tests at the same time. You can easily tell; I am a rookie teacher. You only make these mistakes once. It took all day and night to grade those things. Especially english ones that do not have straight up yes and no answers. These take forever to grade.

This aside, it was basically a good day. There was some trouble with catching the boys attempting to cheat, but nothing too serious. I good loud yell followed by threatening to rip their test in half gave them a good scare. There is nothing they hate more than zeros. Funny since they get at least one a day for not doing their homework.

After school we had practice at the Little Haiti park, which is a very nice place. It is a huge field that has lots of space. It should since we have to pay to use it each time. After we get there, warm up and start practice, a golf cart full of Haitian children and a leader showed up, moved one of the soccer goals in the middle of our field and were getting ready to leave. Until the only 6' 8" white-man within a 5 mile or so radius started yelling. "What are you guys doing on my practice field?" The man acted like he didn't hear me and just started to walk away. Remembering the beating we took the night before, I knew we needed the whole field to do sprints, and I was not going to have a soccer goal in the middle. I tossed the balls to my boys and took off after the guy. He got on his golf cart after seeing me coming and went to take off, but finally just waited to see what I was going to say. I walked over and kindly asked him what was going on. He stumbled around his words for a bit and then got very almost violent as he went off verbally on me. He had orders to do that, and it was his park and he was going to do it, and I didn't need this huge field for such a little number of people. He never would give me an answer to what he was doing. Finally, after I told him I wasn't here to fight, but to just see why he was taking my field and if I was going to get half of my money back since I could only use half of the field, he said they were planting grass. This proved to be a lie as we practice for two hours and never saw anyone again.

However, the local boys showed up to watch, so I went and talked to them assembled a team out of them to scrimmage us and put them on the field. Didn't know that they were from a nearby High School that my boys don't like. Lots of words were flying, but it was fun to finally see some enthusiasm to win in my boys. I asked these guys to come back on Tuesdays and Fridays, so hopefully they will show. It would be the best thing I know to get my boys fired up to finally win a game!!

FLAG FOOTBALL HALL-OF-FAME

2009-09-24T20:22:00.000-07:00

"To get somewhere you've never been, you have to do something you've never done!"

-YLC EAGLES motto

Aren't people supposed to live and die by mottos? Well, today, I suppose we died by it, however, we didn't even try to live by it. How will we ever live by our motto if we don't even try.

As we load the bus to go to the game, there was a constant chant from the team. "Who we are? EAGLES! What we gunna do? FLY HIGH!" This went on over and over for about 30 minutes. As a coach, listening to the boys cheering each other up and getting pumped for the game is exactly what you want to see. Today could turn out to be a good day. Why do these boys fool me with EVERYTHING??? Of COURSE it wasn't going to turn out. I had seen them practice so I knew there was no chance of a win, especially knowing we were playing the champs from last year. But I went in with a big heart, hoping there was a way to pull out a win.

The boys run ahead to the field to maximize their time of warm-ups before starting. As I walk the half-mile to the field, it gives them about 10 minutes before I get there to stretch. However, when I get there, all that is stretching is their jaws. Of course they are yelling at each other, not even close to getting in proper lines. Everyday we ask for three men in front, with people lined up behind them. Each day we get closer and closer, but when you are still trying to start with 6 lines, it makes you want to scream. So we did just that. Lots of it!

After a pitiful warmup, we finally got the team in a huddle and talked a bit before the game. The only thing we won was the coin toss, and still about messed up that call. Good thing the coaches were there to confer with, otherwise, we would have won the coin toss and kicked off. Something NOT in our game plan.

As the game started, our first play ended up in an interception. Not our first possession and series of downs, not close to our first, but the first time we snapped the ball, we gave it right to the other team. Therefore, we did lose the coin toss. This is how the whole game went. That is, until, miraculously, we completed a 78-yard pass to my center and student, Mr. Jude. He made it to the (we will say around the) 2-yard line. Then, the other team caught him and got his flag, saving the touchdown. Do you think we scored? Absolutely not! Do you think we threw the next ball for a touchdown to the other team as they run it right through us and we walk with our heads down? Of course! So, this really is how the game went. 40 straight minutes of it.

In the fourth quarter, the other team finally put in their D squad. I wish I was making this up. Out of nowhere, we ran a play perfectly, selling the fake perfectly, and completing a pass for a touchdown to bring the score to 6-41 with no time. They let us run the conversion and we got that too, making the final 7-41. As a coach, my record really is 0-1, however, id consider saying I am like -5 and 1 after that performance.

So what do you do with a team of boys who won't run in a game, yells at each other, doesn't wear the proper uniform to games or school? Well, what we do is run them. A lot! Around an hour and a half lot! Right after the game! On the same field! In front of fans! They knew they had a sprint for every unanswered point we lost by. 41-7=34. We ran every single one of them, kinda. We jogged. So, we kept running, and doing up-downs and running. Were the boys mad? Of course, but do they understand? YES!!! They got the point of what we were doing. We had boys coming after practice to say they are done screwing around and are stepping it up. It is sad we have to do things like this to get them to look at reality a bit, but if it must be done, we will do it. Again and again until they have it pounded in their heads.

By the end of the season, I have a feeling my entire team is going to hate Joel Gerber and Vance Williams, the master-minds behind all the sprints and punishments they are doing!

A BREAK IS A BREAK

2009-09-23T20:47:00.000-07:00

To train or to be trained. THAT is the question?

Today, I had a much needed break from the boys, football, teaching and everything else that comes with the school. No, I am not hating my work, so stop thinking that. It is just, when working with special needs when that is not your field, you may get burnt out. For special education teachers, who choose this as their field and are properly trained, the burnout rate is three to five years. So, for a new, rookie art teacher dropout, they burnout rate is day 1. I tried to Wikipedia it, but no one posted on that, therefore, I made the stat up. However, it seems quite accurate. I have made it about 4 weeks longer than the average. This is even when making a whopping thirty-seven and one-half cents an hour, or 3 dollars a day (That is for eight hours days. I, however, work 10 hours a day, or close to it.) I'd say I deserve a break.

While it wasn't the typical sleep in and go out to eat sort of day, I was up an hour earlier than normal. I had to be on the complete opposite side of Miami for a training on software that we use with these boys. While everyone at the school has been to it, and suffered through the three-hour tutorial that even the most computer-illiterate person would understand, I still had to go sit through it. I am not complaining. I was not sitting at the table next to the office with one set of legs balancing to hold the table up. (Otherwise known as Mr. Isaac's room.) It was at the airport Hampton Inn in their conference room. FUlly equipped with cinnamon rolls, donuts, bagels and every other gluten infested goodie known to man. I settled for 2 big cups of coffee, loaded with sugar and creamer. The perfect start to a day.

After about 3 minutes of the presentation, I knew I didn't want to be there. However, being the responsible and mature adult that God miraculously turned me into, I thought back to when my three act up in class or don't pay attention while I'm teaching. Quickly, I kept paying attention though I could have completed the training alone within thirty minutes. As I looked around this room full of other teachers, they all had their phones out texting, surfing the web, checking facebook, and everything else other than what they were supposed to be doing. I was by far the youngest person in the room, but I was the only responsible one. I really felt quite good about myself. As the speaker walked around checking every computer to see if everyone was following along, I was the only one the knew that was doing it and didn't have to check. My first A+ ever! I left with a huge gold sticker on my heart. Well, I thought, or wished. No such luck.

During my two and a half hour break between reading and math sessions, I went back to the school to get the power chord to the laptop that my school had forgot to put in the bag. It was a chance however to collect homework, see how my boys were treating the sub and grab a nice, free creole lunch. I did say free. No money. No cost. Given to me. A gift. Like Christmas. I didn't pay. I am saving every penny of that 37 I made today. Need it all to get back home for Christmas. Or a tattoo, whatever I feel is more important!

I then returned to the second training, finding it to be quite informative. (once again, this is sarcasm) As I sat doing kindergarten math for an hour, my brain started falling asleep. I had to leave. About that time, my computer died, I didn't feel like plugging in the chord and besides, I knew what I was doing. I asked permission to leave, it was granted and I headed for home. One great way to end a day away from work is by enjoying a three hour nap! And I took advantage of every second of it. That is why I am still awake even though I need to be to work in a few hours.

Overall, while I make fun of it, today really was informative and should help in getting these boys to learn to read better. It is good to understand the equipment our school has and get on with using it properly.

Tomorrow is our first football game. I am excited to see what happens. In the slim chance we win, I look forward to all the calls from Hollywood, asking for movie rights. Get ready America....Coach Shue will soon be coming to a theater near you!

SUPER TUESDAY VIDEO

2009-09-23T17:19:00.001-07:00

Here is the link to the video. I think you will enjoy these children!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJCk5Nj12_c

If this doesn't make a link, just copy and paste in the address bar.