RationalSnowflake

( The opinions expressed are not representative of City Year or AmeriCorps as organizations) I don't often attach significance to objects. If I'm asked to share an object that means a lot to me, I usually struggle to come up with something, and end up bringing in a book. Books are great, but it's the words in them that I really care about. The same goes for all of the letters I've saved over the years. They mean a lot to me, but it's the words and messages they convey, rather than the pieces of paper, that I value. But over the past few weeks I've accumulated a number of artifacts from students, and these objects mean so much to me. I worry that over time I'll become cynical of them and what they meant at the time I got them. Perhaps negative interactions with the students will taint my memory of how great it was to receive them. Or maybe I'll just be sad, and let my sadness convince me that I wasn't actually happy about these simple things. Hopefu

The opinions expressed are not representative of City Year or AmeriCorps as organizations My last blog post received a lot more attention than I expected. Some of the reactions have been positive and supportive, others not so much. I really appreciate my fellow corps members and the upper management people who have reached out to me in the past week. Some of them have thanked me for writing and voicing what a lot of them have been feeling. That validation and acceptance meant a lot to me, more than they probably realize. I also really value the people who have approached me to try to change my mind or to question the assumptions and claims I made. I always want to learn and grow as a person, and getting that feedback has helped me continue to question and explore the impact of what I'm doing. I still disagree with many of City Year's practices, but I'm trying to learn more in order to build a well-informed critique, and offer alternatives. A number of people have encourag

The opinions expressed are not representative of City Year or AmeriCorps as organizations And then she threw her arms around me and said: "Miss C., you're my favorite city year." And just like that, nothing else mattered. All the fucking bullshit didn't matter. The chanting, the team-building exercises, the complete and total incompetence of most of the people I work with... None of it mattered. Just for a second, all that mattered was the little girl holding on to me, telling me that I matter. That I have somehow managed to make a difference in her life. And then he asked me, "Is this right?" And I challenged him. Yes, it was right. He had correctly identified the graph as being positively skewed. Not only that, he'd also written a complete sentence describing the data. I was so fucking proud. It was more than most of his classmates had done, but I knew he could do more. "Alright _, great work! Now I wonder if you'd be able to come up with

The opinions expressed are not representative of City Year or AmeriCorps as organizations I was supposed to have figured things out in college, or at least have some sort of direction. Yet here I am, Bachelor's degree in hand, and clueless. I thought I wanted to dedicate a year of my life to helping people, so City Year seemed like the perfect opportunity for me. I'd be able to figure out my next step, and also be able to make a difference in the lives of some students. The cult-like culture bothered me a bit at first. It was tiresome and irritating, but I tried to ignore it. I'm here for the kids. That's what matters. I thought I'd get used to the culture. I thought it'd become a minor annoyance that I had to endure in order to be able to do what I came here for. But it seems like the longer I stay, the worse it gets. Nothing has changed, except perhaps my perspective, which is becoming steadily worse. I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want t