RationalSnowflake

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...

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...

He's already told you he loves you. More than that. He's shown you he loves you. Day in, day out. When you're in a good mood, or a bad mood. When you want to talk, or just be silent. He's there, caring. You don't have to prove anything. You don't have to doubt. So you're free. Free to be yourself. Truly, completely. Just you. Because he knows you, and likes you anyway. No, he likes you because  of who you are. There's no anxiety. No worrying about what you should say, when you need to be funny, or clever, or attractive. Sometimes you are all of those things. Sometimes, you're none of them. But always, you are you . Then he's gone. And you're left alone, or masquerading as someone else. Someone who is always in a good mood, because sadness isn't fun. Someone who always wants to talk, because silences are awkward. Someone who has to prove, day in, day out, that she is worthy of others' company. ------------------ You're walki...

Like pretty much everyone around me, I watched 13 Reasons Why on Netflix, and I have strong opinions. Before watching the show, I heard a lot about it. Some people lauded the way it raises awareness of bullying and sexual assault in high school (and beyond) and their effects on people. Others thought the show glorified suicide, representing it as a viable solution for people struggling with mental illness or who are going through a rough time. I've also heard criticisms of Hannah Baker, the main character who kills herself; some people see her as a whiny little girl who was just seeking attention. Supposedly, the show makes it seem like she receives the attention she sought, even though she was already dead. People expressed concern about the effects of the show on teenagers, worrying they would want to "try" suicide, and not understand that it's permanent, unlike drugs, alcohol, sex, etc. I started watching the show having heard all of these arguments, and I intend...