RationalSnowflake

The opinions expressed are not representative of City Year or AmeriCorps as organizations I often wish I were more normal. By that I mean more susceptible to the influences of society. By that I mean less stubborn. By that I mean more able to just go with the flow. Actually, I'm not sure what I mean by that. Every company has things about it that some employees don't like. I don't expect to ever find a job that will exactly match everything I want and need. I understand this, and it's supposed to make me feel less negatively about City Year and the things I hate about it. But all that happens when I'm reminded of the fact that no place is perfect is I feel more out of place in the world. I watch the people around me get abnormally excited about "earning" pieces of our uniform, and as I think about how ridiculous they're being, I can't help but think about how much easier my life would be if I were like them. Critical thinking is one of the fe

Self-care. It's one of those terms everyone likes to throw around a lot, and as such, it is used in various ways by different people. Unfortunately, it seems like the people who are in the most need of self-care are also the ones who don't fully understand the concept and use it in a destructive way. Self-care has become synonymous with "Self-indulgence," and self-indulgence often leads to self-destruction, which is literally the opposite of what you're trying to do.  Self-care is when you, quite simply, take care of yourself.  I'll be using Maslow's hierarchy as a convenient model for describing basic human needs (there are some insightful critiques of Maslow's hierarchy, but I think we can still learn a lot from it). In his hierarchy, Maslow states that at the very basic level people need food, shelter, and safety, and I agree. Thus, your first step in self-caring should be to ask yourself if those needs of yours are being met. Not just "Am

The opinions expressed are not representative of City Year or AmeriCorps as organizations I saw J sitting alone in the cafeteria, silently looking softly at the room with a gaze that was neither engaged nor disengaged. He sat. I approached him, introduced myself, and asked for his name. He looked up and smiled at me. A genuine smile. They had warned us about the students that will be challenging, but hadn't really prepared us for this. Smiles. He told me his name, and then asked what he was supposed to be doing. As if I knew. The carefully planned schedule for the day had fallen apart roughly 20 minutes in, and as far as I could tell, the adults in the school were as confused as the students about who was supposed to be where and what they were meant to be doing. He'd already gotten his student ID and had been in the auditorium learn about the administrations and logistics, so the only other activity he had to complete was a school tour, which I found out would be starting 30