A Long awaited end...

New Mexico...

I'm typing this with my thumbs from a coffee shop in Taos. Twelve children that I'm responsible for are meandering through the Paseo arts festival and I'm simultaneously horrified that something will go wrong and intrigued by the tan moth on the other side of this window.

Water coloring on Women's Wilderness Trek

I couldn't begin to articulate all the emotions I've endured in the last 6 months. I am so grateful for the opportunities I've been afforded this year, and perplexed at how variable my life has become. And yet, while I couldn't have predicted who would move into my house or out of my life, or what coffee shop I would be drinking at on the first Saturday of fall... I have at least had the stability of a profession I'm passionate about.
As I sit here chatting logistics with three high schoolers on my last "trek" of the season, I can't help but reflect on all the journeys I've been on this month. I've climbed mountains and trees, trapped rattlesnakes and cleaned wounds. I have been dirty, stinky, cold, wet and happy-- often at the same time. I've watched sunrises and sunsets and slept under the stars... all while offering the same opportunity to young people from 5-17 years old. Each group of students has made it more evident to me how crucial it is for young people to Experience. To try new things, to be uncomfortable, and to say Yes (and Thank You) are essential to growth... and I've walked with kids that choose To and those that choose not to... or lack the inspiration to ask "What else is there?"

My dirty trekkin' pants

At the same time, I've been reflecting on all the opportunities I was offered growing up. It was up until at least 10 years ago that I was a young, hopeful girl afraid of being uncomfortable. Now that I've overcome that fear I get paid to climb mountains. I can get a 1 ton truck out of the mud. I can guide 30 people through a slot canyon. I can pretty reliably predict the weather. I have grown immensely in this job, even in this last month of exhaustion...

Nevertheless, I've been counting down the days until I can sleep in my own bed for a full week, even a month. I'm so tired from all these experiences...yet I'm already looking forward to next Spring season. And some goooood solid sleeps in between.

Office Views

10 weeks of Awesome

 

Today I'm moving back into my house after almost 3 months of living semi-off-the-grid. For three months I've traveled under southwestern skies, through moons and monsoons, set up and torn down camps, but mostly helped things run smoothly at our base camp. Now that this final day has come, I don't even know where to begin to process this experience...so I'll start with the data:

42 like minded peers with similar shared experiences and different perspectives on our adventures.

126 youth who I got to know by name, hike and explore with and learn from.

Over 70 nights sleeping in open air: 26 nights in a tent, 4 nights under the stars, the rest in my "cabin", the Shed.

About 18 showers. 6 laundry days. And 8 really good flossings (sorry Dentist).
3 star talks, one moon viewing through the telescope, 5 long walks in the rain, four walks through a burned part of the forest, one mountain summit, 3 miles of backpacking, lots of digging through outdated field guides, about 130 formal meetings and countless informal ones. 4 boxes of lucky charms. 8 games of bucketball. 30 nut butter and jelly lunches, two hikes up pyramid rock and two flea market stops. Over 75 "desert silvery blues," and many, many inside jokes. 2 new friends, dozens of wonderful memories, and renewed fortitude.

Top 10 moments:

1)Elliott missing Cordelia with the purple ball in Spud
2) Walter calling the cake slipping off Chet's plate.
3) Sitting with Palo and 2 cool kid hikers at dinner after second Rendezvous and hearing an 18 year old say, "speaking of dinosaur classification..." before launching an excited explanation of the Brontosaurus.
4) Outfit 2's rendezvous song.
5) Harriet the rat
6) Chris's late night bug show, "Cassiussss"
7) Chris and Lisa sitting super close to me for a "Cass-Sandwhich"
8) Chris "excuse me, you're on fire" during rendezvous mudgie
9) Mike's "food for athletes" and people in gulch jerseys eating ice cream out of a wheelbarrow during a game of bucketball, while MDT and WCT watched
10) Reunion campfire(s)

This summer has been full of growth for me. I have learned and been challenged by my lack of interpersonal skills. I learned some new bugs, and grew more confident in teaching. I learned that even if you say yes to everything and feel like you're going to drown in opportunity...there is Always a way. Honestly, after this summer, with all the death and a wedding and reunion and a family reunion and school field trips all stacked on one another... I have been reminded that no matter what, there will always be clouds in the sky...attitude is everything, and a little Grit goes a long way.

Ride the World

These are not easy words to write, and could probably be expressed better. But in the words of Thoreau "Not that the story need be long, but it will take a long while to make it short."

I have spent the last 10 weeks pouring my energy into a community that consists on discovery, growth, self awareness, confidence and independence. The first days, even weeks after Sid passed I struggled to think of going back to my normal world. At the same time, my supportive group of inspiring friends has been exactly what I needed to shake this shock and sadness, and propel my energy into something greater:

Monday was our last night with trekkers at our base camp. Six weeks before, inspired by the bustle and buzz of 30 adults making last minute preparations I started a poem about the "calm before the storm." Now, after many tears and smiles, laughing to the point of collapse, wondering how an hour can feel like an eternity but a week can feel like a moment, one wedding and two rendezvous and a handful pretty intense conversations...it's come to an end. Every late night, every tough decision, every bonding moment has come to this: a staff game of bucketball under an increasingly brilliant orange sky. 

Many of us hardly have enough energy to communicate our own feelings, yet we pounded the squishy dirt as we hustled back and forth, not wanting our peers to feel unsupported. Trekkers watched from either side (admiring this adult show of appropriate contact and communication in a semi-competitive game) as they prepared for their final banqets- a traditional last meal with one another before they travel back to their homes, plug into their screens and march back into their school systems. 

...

I have thought a lot about Sid this summer. He came to  me in the happiest moments. In those rare moments of still beauty and perfection I was painfully aware of his absence in this world. I've thought a lot about how we would have worked it out this summer...with me being completely committed to this community. I've thought about how thankful I am to have learned his perspective on politics and the world, and to have met a new group of friends and family from him. I've also thought about his addiction. Our ability to be consumed in every aspect of our lives by the things we loved made Sid and I understand each other. I'm reminded every day of how his addiction to alcohol affected his life. This summer I have seen my peers fight the same addiction. Whether they're watching the people they love pour their lives away, or making the difficult decisions to keep themselves away from the same pressures, I have so much pride and admiration for their willpower and strength...and I worry that without help, more people will have to face the same struggles. Just as Sid threw himself into his Colorado world, I am consumed by this community, and the work needed to be done to give our youth a safe space.

This last week of wrapping things up, as two different parents choked up thanking us for what we have done for their kids, I have been reminded of why we do this energy-taxing job of supporting sustained memories and a sacred place for these children to grow up. Every interaction I had with a young person, I became aware of the need of our children to receive actual attention and care by solid adult role models. I hope that with this support, they won't turn to substances to fill a void. 

Harriet the rat. 

The world has now missed the brilliant soul we called Sid for over three months. I ache for him and cry for him. I miss the furrowed wrinkles on his forehead that I would try to smooth out, his cheesy grin, and the soft skin of his hands. I know that no amount of tears or memories or lighting candles can bring him back...but what I can do is carry on his energy and love, and fill the void of passion I had for him with love and light for the rest of the world. I can no longer tell Sid I love him, but I can show that love to the youth around me, to the leaders of the future. I can listen to late night ramblings, cheer them on when they're challenging themselves to something new, and be supportive of who they want to be. 

Success is Sweat

"We did it," said CJ around 10:30pm, as we arranged some things in the office before retiring for a well earned night's sleep. We had just returned from a debrief of a 6 day 5 night trip with 18 students from Poland. The itinerary included a trip to the Grand Canyon, our Base Camp, Chaco Canyon and the property of a company-friend where we often stay in exchange for some labor.
"We're crazy," I uttered, thinking back on the emotionally, physically and mentally draining week that was intertwined with incredible rewards that would only make sense to the 4 of us working the trip.
"Yea-" she started to say, catching herself. "No, people who go to the same place every day are crazy."
"yeah!" I added, "People who wake up and sit in traffic for hours every morning and afternoon to stare at their cubicle walls are crazy!" We laughed.
The next night I found myself chatting with another worker about the tradeoffs of a job like this.
"What did we do to get a job that makes us happy?" he quizzed? "We sweat. A lot" I responded.
"It takes a lot of sweat, though." He paused, reflecting in his head. "a LOT of sweat." His implication was that it almost isn't worth it. At this point of the year, coming off a busy spring, an insanely busy summer, and a sporadically busy fall, it's not unusual for people in this line of work to start envisioning themselves in an autumn wonderland-- a time when they can rock climb without belaying 11 years-olds, hike without being so distracted by asking 20 children to put on sunscreen that you forget it yourself, and otherwise enjoy the great outdoors with love in actual silence, not the shuffling and scraping sounds that come after begging the group for a few silent moments.
I have found myself looking forward to the fall for several weeks now, only to remind myself to wait and appreciate those sun-soaked days. I have a growing list of projects I'm looking forward to do when I'm not working, but I know that after a week and a half of home-bound projects and crafting, I'll be itching to explore outdoors, and wishing I had a company vehicle and a group of wide-eyed 12 year olds to teach to. Maybe a month and a half for that.
This last week was a wonderful way to cap off an exciting year in Outdoor Education. For one, I think I learned at least as much as I taught, but probably more. I learned about my personal needs, and different styles of teaching for people of different cultures. I saw my first wild Tarantula and held my first bat!. I learned a few words in Polish, as well as Polish eating and working habits.
At one moment I sat with my head in my hands, wondering how on earth I could teach them to respect our equipment, because nothing I had done had convinced them yet. On the verge of tears I pondered other jobs, and wondered how many people reading this have cried in their last month or two at work. But then I wondered how many people get to see complete transformations at their jobs. I saw a girl who has never washed a dish in  her life, completely do her dishes without any nagging. I saw a teacher give in to our traditions, and a peer acknowledge their occasional hard-headedness. Perhaps it's the exhaustion of hauling 30 lb water jugs around, waking up early to cook and staying up late to plan, or the beauty and openness of the wilderness around us, but these breakthroughs offer an overwhelming reward. Hearing a Polish child ask for a songbook so they can sing cowboy songs when three days ago they were begging to hear their American playlist in the vans is just one of those moments when you know that it IS worth it. I'd sweat buckets for those moments. and I do. :)

I have one more trip of blood, sweat and tears, and all the passion I can muster before I get to collapse into my firm bed and blog away the autumn. I'm looking forward to these last 3 days of the year, spending the nights in my paradise, and sharing whatever teachable moments I can to anyone who will listen.

Back from the wild

It has been two full weeks since I've returned to my new favorite city from a program in which I was fully immersed in the beauty of nature.
For 10 wonderful weeks I got to eat, sleep, and smell the things I believe in, that keep me going: community, nature, and personal growth through education and life skills.

The first night back, I busied myself with unpacking--settling back into a space that my partner had reinvented for himself for the last two months. I watched the sun set, then hesitated to turn on the lights... a luxury I hadn't had at my fingertips in weeks. As I waited for Amil to come home from work, I sat outside...and cried. I remembered coming back from my first over-night summer camp experience when I was probably 12. After the week-long camp had ended, my mom picked me up but dropped me off at the house and went back to work. I remember wandering from room to room hearing the echoes of laughter, feeling the warmth of the sun, and the tracing through the winding labyrinths of paths in my mind. Eventually I plopped on the couch and turned on the TV so I wouldn't be so alone-- and I cried.

If I had one word to describe my summer, it would be community. More than in other temporary jobs I have travelled through in the last 4 years, there is a strong sense of community at this little camp in Northwest New Mexico. Although I have met and left hundreds of people in my past jobs, I always had Amil to help me with the transition. He didn't always start at the same time, enabling me to get to know people with my own personality first, but when it came time to leave, we would always get in the car, or board the train toward our next adventure, with memories of our friends in our collective brains, waiting to be brought up again down the road.
Although he knows a lot of the people I worked with this summer, and he came out to visit a couple of times, I feel that I was able to create much stronger bonds this summer, for a variety of reasons. One reason might be that he wasn't with me, and my social attentions were spread farther. Another is that, as my third year with this company, I was able to spend more time getting to know the other people around and filling in the gaps of the little jobs that were left to be done. I really enjoyed this position.

But now that I'm back, I'm bracing myself for a busy fall season, but making time to reflect on the things I've learned and the habits that were reinforced this summer.
I have some great ideas for upcoming blogs, but I wanted to say Hello, and I'm back...so get ready. Also, I'm using a new blog server...we'll see how that goes.

I'll leave you with a little ditty I wrote mid-summer.

The Last

 

When was the last time you sung a song in front of others but along with them, with all the passion you have?

When was the last time you spoke your feelings and 40 people listened?

When was the last time you got so engrossed in a project that hours flew by without your noticing?

When was the last time you hiked up to your bed by moonlight or slept on the ground under a blanket of stars?

When was the last time you laughed so hard it hurts, and learned something about yourself in the same conversation?

When was the last time you had another being in your hands and examined it up close?

When was the last time the beauty of a landscape moved you to tears, or a hug from a friend came at just the right time?

or watched the sun rise and set in the same day?

These pleasures all occurred to me today, and are likely to happen again tomorrow.

 

 



Shaking the Dust Off, while the wind blows around.

This past week I had the immense privilege of taking an inspiring group of 6^th graders to a place I had never been to before. Listed somewhere in the perks of the unbelievable sights, the student’s questions that made me ponder as much as them, and the experiential … experience, is the fact that I got paid to do this.

(Photo by Conservation Lands Foundation)

Yep, it’s my job to drive young'uns around this incredible state, feed them wild things, encourage them to crawl through rocks,  and challenge themselves to do things they never even thought about doing. Some people surely believe that I spend my days singing cum-by-ah and kicking soccer balls at kids to whom I’m just another adult at their disposal- but I’m happy to say I have never been in a position like that. Working at  current position has enabled me to provide the most insightful, intentional and hands-on education I have ever been able to offer. Sure I have to scorn a few trouble-makers, clean up some toilets and vacuum vans…but the real “dirty” work is the most fun: digging through shallow riverbeds to find what’s lurking beneath rocks, churning adobe bricks with your own hands or feet, or using a “bludgeoning tool” to break off all the lower Ponderosa pine branches as part of sustainable fire ecology.
This past week was particularly enjoyable because it marked my first trip with a school group with this company, my first time to Tent Rocks, and my first time with this particular group of students, who will be joining us for a longer trip later in the spring. At this point I have led groups of students to explore the outdoors in New York, North Carolina, Texas and California, but none of the programs I’ve worked with have emphasized the exploration of Nature quite like this one. Of course we stress safety, and always keep a watchful eye, but when a student can pick up a lizard and give it a name, or scrape a sandstone cliff to feel it erode, you can actually see the moment of understanding and appreciation in their eyes.
What really stood out to me about this visit to Tent Rocks was how much I was able to learn. Another thing that is invaluable about this line of work is that I can constantly grow and learn- as a student and as a teacher. As we ventured into the narrowing canyon, the students’ enthusiasm grew, despite ticking past their usual lunch time. They started to make their own theories about why Ponderosa pines were increasing in density along our walk, and asked each other really good questions about how the sediment layered like it did. Although this may have been a particularly bright group of 6^th graders, it was clear that their sense of curiosity was driving them to round each corner, and that a sense of exploration was pushing them to climb toward the top. A rewarding view only further encouraged the fulfillment of time spent in nature, whether learning or just appreciating.
Although this was my first week working with students since December, and this was my first school group in New Mexico, I remembered how natural, and exciting it is to work with young minds, and agile bodies. The  trip to Tent Rocks last week was a nice reminder of how to flow into the logistics of leading a group of students through permit-required places, but more excitingly, it released the momentum of the possibilities for us teaching students this spring. Right now I am in the planning stage of several other trips, all overnight, from 2^nd grade to 7^th grade. I am so excited to design some unique experiences for the youth in this state, and even more excited to get out there in the dust with them, and learn some things.