Emotional Day!

Today has been an emotional day for me.  

My grandfather has been gone 16 years, but I think I am finally mature enough to understand what the world, and especially myself, lost that day.  I only have vague memories (my memory has never been great – it is going to suck to be my family if I ever have Alzheimer’s!) of a wonderful man.  I remember events which I know took place more often than normal conversations.  I hear his voice in prayers, but I cannot remember his laugh.  I have no specific memories of things we did, just him and I.  I was only 14 (technically I was 13 but close enough to 14) when he passed away.  I hadn’t learned yet that life is short and to hold onto and treasure those that matter.  I didn’t really know love, or loss.  I couldn’t see then all the spirit he had in him.  I can’t remember a single look of disappointment or a moment of anger from him.  We put his wheelchair in the lake more times than I can count and he laughed about it.  We were never in trouble for it.  I wish I had been more aware of the things he did and the love he possessed.  I remember fondly him jumping out of the boat in the middle of the lake and strangers being appalled when the boat left him out there to swim back to shore.  I remember curling up in his lap – he never complained about my bony bum!   I remember patience – he drove the boat while so many of us learned to water ski – and would drive the boat for hours to get us all out on the water.  I wish I had gone to Sunday school at the Lake instead of going swimming.  I wish I had known the value of quality time.

However, despite not remembering much about him, I know he has influenced my life.  I know my empathy for people with disabilities stems from knowing him.  I never saw my grandfather walk – he was in a wheelchair long before I was born.  But Polio never slowed him down.  I know the story where his children taunted him for the second floor, thinking a man that couldn’t use his legs was helpless to punish them.  Before they knew it, he had scooted up the stairs using his arms to give them what they deserved. We were told to make sure we didn’t put our sleeping bags in his way or he would run us over (I don’t think he ever would have, but the threat was there).  I know he was self-sufficient – he put his own wheelchair in the car, and drove himself many places.  While he let us pretend we were pushing him up the hill, I know he did the majority of the work himself.  I cannot watch someone with a disability struggle.  I like to offer my help, but accept that they might want to do it alone.  I feel an incredible anger when on public transit and someone is sitting in the reserved seats and does not move for someone less able bodied than them.  When I see someone struggling, I try to help!  I know how easy it is to go from able bodied to less able bodied, and I have seen the struggles people have when this happens.  I accept that help is not always appreciated, but that is a sense of pride.  I would rather offer than ignore the situation.

Despite this being the day we lost him, I cannot speak of him alone.  His wife played a huge role in the way I remember both of them.  My grandparents taught me the value of altruism without saying a word.  I was pretty young and helping pack and deliver Meals on Wheels around Vancouver while on vacation.  I learned to love helping other people – even in what seemed like such small ways. I volunteer a lot.  I can see how this has come from my grandparents.  I can see where Meals on Wheels brought joy to many people, and I am proud to bring joy to people I can help with.

My grandparents held Church gatherings at their house in Richmond – everyone was welcome and there was always plenty of food.  I know that had a poverty ridden knocked on their door, they would have helped him.  What a great way to live, and what a powerful way to influence your children and grandchildren.  My grandparent’s summer home was available to all at any time, without notice even being given.  I brought a friend one year, and they accepted her as one of their own.  Helping Grama in the kitchen throughout July I learned a lot about cooking for many – things I still use today.  The prayers before meals, even though I found them annoying at the time, brought the family closer together.  To this day, a man with a deep voice leading a table in prayer brings a smile to my face. 

I wish I had understood the value of the lessons you taught me when I was younger.  You offered what seems now to be unconditional love.  Sure, we disagreed on things (particularly as I aged, and more with Grama than Grampa – but he wasn’t around when I started making bad decisions!), but I know you told me with love the things you told me.  Most of our disagreements were related to religion, which I never saw value in (ironically, I am now trying to place religion, which is still a pretty foreign concept to me, into my life).  You were both so proud of me, of all of us.  You taught many valuable lessons which embody the life I am living.  I wonder if I had accepted these teachings (or even been aware of these teachings) earlier in my life if I wouldn’t have spent so many years filled with anger, distrust, depression and the other negative emotions which filled many of my teenage years.  I wonder if I would have found my life path sooner.  I know my trips to Ghana were supported by you – I used some of my inheritance money from you to support these trips.  I know my current life path would be one you would encourage me in.  I know I am here because of you.

I spent a lot of time thinking about you two today.  If I could have you for a different 14 years, I might have chosen a time when I was more able to see your value in my life.  However, with that said, I know I had you for my most influential years.  And, seeing the value of you 16 years later is better than never having you at all.

I attended a poverty simulation today, put on by the United Way.  For one hour, I was in a family unit, struggling with poverty. 

Poverty is not something I have ever experienced, although I think my Mom might say she has.  My Mom struggled when we were young – she was a single parent working full time and raising two children on her own.  Her own family was 800 km away, and I think pride said she couldn’t go back.  However, I never did without.  I learned early on that saving money was a good way to live, and have always had a backup savings account. 

I have lived amongst abject poverty, but again, I knew I could have whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.  Living in Ghana made me realize how hard it could be to live in poverty.  I was asked on a fairly regular basis to help someone in the community with health care costs, with food costs, with transportation costs – with almost everything.  I remember one man, who knew my name, telling me that his daughter was going to die from malaria if I didn’t help them with the cost of the malaria medication.  Maybe I was selfish, but I was also paying any money I could into the orphanage with 30 small children who also needed help.  I told that man I couldn’t do it.  I don’t know what happened to his child.  I hope she lived. 

In Ghana, I also saw people sleeping on the street next to their shops.  Seeing is believing in this case – these people during the day portrayed the picture of happiness.  They were running their shops, their children were playing.  I had no idea what I was walking amongst.  An American woman who was in Ghana with me lived on $1 a day for a while.  However, all of our meals and water were provided for us, as was our shelter (a house with locks on doors).  Her $1 a day went to transportation, phone credit, internet use (she was writing a blog for a donor organization and had to check in), and extra supplies she might have needed – such as toilet paper, a pen or paper, or whatever!  But when transportation to the next town is 70 cents – she did have to save a couple of days to even travel.  Young children who sold water all day made 20 cents a day.  How does a family survive on that?

Today, I was in a family unit.  I was 16 and seven months pregnant.  My boyfriend was a high school dropout and was selling drugs to help his family.  My mother worked full time for $10.50 an hour. My father had lost his job four months ago, and his EI had run out.  I had a 10 and 8 year old brother.  When we first got our bills, we realized that we were automatically short $500 based on Mom’s earnings.  Right away, we decided to sell our TV, Stereo and Camera to make some extra cash.  We only had enough bus tickets for Mom to get to and from work for a week – not for anyone else to go anywhere (school was free transportation but only to school).  We sold our stuff to the pawn shop for 70% less than the value of the stuff – giving us only $90 from our extras.  The simulation was four 15 minute weeks with 3 minute weekends.  In 15 minutes, the parents were expected to pay our rent, go to full time jobs (had to be there for 5 minutes to get paid, and had to be on time or would be laid off for a week), buy the groceries, look for work, pay the utilities and run the house.  Because of our ages, the children stayed home.  It was also an extra bus ticket to take any of the children with the parents.  There were about 20 families participating (families could be single parents, single seniors, families, or whatever is out there!).  So you go to the bank to cash your paycheck and the line is long.  Turns out you wasted a whole week standing in line and not accomplishing anything – the bank closed before you got there.  My Father took Mom’s paycheck to the bank while Mom was at work – but Mom didn’t sign the cheque so Dad couldn’t cash it.  I had a pre-natal checkup and a parent had to come with me – that meant another day Dad couldn’t look for work.  In our first 2 weeks – we didn’t make it to the grocery store once.  The school had a field trip that was $2 for each child.  Our parents couldn’t afford the fieldtrip so we had to tell our teacher that we didn’t have the money for extras.  One week, I got kicked out of school for fighting – this actually helped our family a little bit – I was able to stand in line at the grocery store for food for us that week while my parents did other things (had one of my brothers been kicked out of school, I might have had to stay home with them as a sitter, or worse, one of parents would have had to stay home!).  But that was 2 transportation tickets as I had to take my brother with me (one of my brothers didn’t show up for the simulation but he was still in our scenario) because he is too young to spend the day at home alone.  One week at school my brother had an allergic reaction, which again meant standing in line at the clinic for one of our parents.  Groceries were $110 a week.  I brought $90 to the grocery store and they suggested I go see if Social Assistance can help me since I am expecting.  I go home and ask for another transportation ticket from my Mom to go to Social Services.  While I am filling out my application, they close.  The lady took pity on my condition and gave me $100 in food vouchers, but I had to go back (with another transportation ticket) to complete my file.  Turns out I wasn’t eligible for anything because my Mom works and Dad’s EI ran out.  I got another transportation ticket from Mom and took our vouchers to the grocery store, but it closed before I got in.  Two wasted transportation tickets for me that day!

As a child in this scenario, I didn’t have as much stress as my parents but my life was still stressed.  I needed food to keep my baby healthy.  The health clinic told me I wasn’t eating enough fruits and vegetables.  Health appointments took me out of school and I plan to go to college!  I had to beg my parents for money they didn’t have.  I had to explain to my class that I didn’t want to go on the stupid field trip when really it was that we couldn’t afford it.  I knew it was harder on my two brothers to tell their friends they couldn’t go than it was for me.  It felt like my father wasn’t doing enough to try to get a job.  One day after school, I got a letter saying our gas was being cut off.  Another day I got an evictions notice!  While Mom did pay the mortgage, she was late and we got evicted anyways!  We didn’t have enough food in general; thankfully the school had a breakfast program which my brothers and I ate at.  And to top it all off, there was no family time.  My parents were both stressed to the max.  When we came home from school and handed them a note from the teachers (for field trips, for fighting etc.) they would sigh and throw the paper aside.  Every time my brothers or I had to go somewhere, Dad lost out on paying bills or looking for work.  In fact, in the entire month, Dad did not make it to the Employment Centre to look for work.  Whenever we saw Mom, she was muttering and doing math in her head.  You could see the stress on her face every time we needed money.

So, what challenges did my family face in our month in poverty?  Lack of affordable childcare.  Teen pregnancy.  The Health care system.  Lack of food.  Parental stress. Eviction. Transportation. Navigating the system. Lack of time for anything but necessities.  One paycheck way below the minimum standard of living.  School.

What feelings did my family experience? Stress.  Isolation. Annoyance.  Lost.  Exploited. Humility. Panic. Vulnerability.  Overwhelmed.  Anger.

What impacted the family the most?  Mom was at work for most of the week, and by the time she was able to get to any agency/bank/supermarket they were closing for the day.  There were long lines at all agencies, causing us to waste whole days waiting for services.  The agencies were understaffed, and were frustrated by the long lines and their inability to help.  Everyone was cranky.  We felt like we were treated unfairly, often feeling demeaned and undervalued as a person.  In desperation, Dad tried selling drugs!

Desperation led many to stealing or a life of crime.  We felt like the world was against us and that there was no correct information available for the family.  With mom working, she was never able to get to an agency which put the pressure on Dad – but Dad also had to take us to the health clinic and try to find a job!  There was a sense of complete chaos within each family unit.  We were all overwhelmed by the things going on in our lives and the amount that we had to do.  There was so much stress within the family unit and it transferred to everyone we dealt with.  We felt that the situation was relentless and a sense of hopelessness came over us.  How long could we go like this? How long can we keep it up?  Were my brothers and I going to be put into care because our parents couldn’t feed us, because we were evicted?  We were in survival mode and didn’t care who we hurt or what ends we had to reach.

The agency staff said that they started out trying to get to know everyone that came through but with the long lines, people quickly became faceless.  We talked about agencies being important people in the lives of many of their clients who do not have a support system outside of the agencies.

The biggest things the group talked about were that the agencies were not as accessible as we needed them to be.  Transportation is always a problem.  There are untapped resources within the community – in the simulation some of the agencies that could have helped certain families said those families never made it to see them.  Were the families unaware, was there just no time?  The agencies said they felt like they asked degrading questions only to have to turn the clients away. 

As the event wrapped up, I heard some people talking.  “Maybe we can be less stingy with bus tickets” I heard.  What a great way to get people talking, and to get people involved in a horrendous situation which is all too prevalent in today’s society.  People need to know that stereotypes are wrong (almost always) and that people struggle and do the best they can.  Maybe some give up, but most are working their asses off for something we will hopefully never have to experience.  What a great way to spend my afternoon, learning about something that I think I know but have never experienced!

Big Girl Panties

July 10, 2014

I was asked a difficult question today, and I struggled with the answer all day.  However, I realized that what I experienced today will probably come up a lot in my career, whatever that will be.

I received a message from someone I care a lot about, and am very proud of.  This woman has turned her life around and I consider her a friend.  However, it has been 7 months since we last talked.  Out of the blue, she asked if I could lend her a couple hundred bucks for gas and groceries.  She “forgot” to do her taxes, and only realized when she didn’t receive a government supplement she normally gets.  She says she gets paid again on July 29 and can have the money back in my account that day.  Something about the conversation is nagging at me.  I guess I am jaded.  I feel like the situation has changed.  I feel like she isn’t in a good place.  I asked if she had gone to the food bank for food.  She told me that the food bank only allows a visit once a month.  That doesn’t sound right to me.  I know I have never been in that situation, but I am sure you can hit a food bank more often if you need it, especially when you have a toddler. Also, it sounds like she only gets paid once a month – what kind of job does she actually have? The situation sounds weird to me, and I have been told enough stories to trust this this time.   I also think that sometimes you have to learn a lesson the hard way – file your taxes if you want government money!  I think it is the baby that makes me question my motives.

I think what bugged me most about the conversation is that she won’t take “no” for an answer.  I wore my big girl panties and told her that I couldn’t do it.  I am worried about August rent in my house.  I am going on a road trip in a week.  I need to pay to get a new license.  And I didn’t want to, however, I am not always good at shaking the boat, so I didn’t tell her that part.  After I said I didn’t have the money to help her out, so asked for “just $150” while saying it’s okay if I can’t.   I have not responded, but have received several more messages begging for my help – for the baby’s sake.  I am not going to give her the money. I don’t like that she came out of nowhere and asked for it.  I don’t like that she is begging me for it.  We aren’t really close although I care a lot about her.  We haven’t spoken at all since Christmas time and before that, probably six months.  If it were a good friend, that I know well, and know the situation better, I would consider it.  I don’t like the situation and don’t want to ask all the questions to try to know the situation.  It’s not my problem right?

I know that as I enter social work, people will want money from me, or other things that I feel uncomfortable doing.  Big girl panties and a back bone will be needed in my life.  I need to trust my instincts.  I need to protect myself.  I can only do my job.  I can give a lot of myself in this job, and put a lot into the career, and these are good things.  But I need to have boundaries.  My friend today needs to find a social worker to help her. She needs to fix things in her life.  I am not her social worker. I don’t live in the same community to advocate for her, or to send her places where they might be able to help her.  And as a bit of a long lost friend, I am not that person.  This does not make me a bad person.  It makes me someone true to myself, possibly for the first time in my life.

Push and Run

June 29 2014

I went to a beautiful wedding yesterday.  Two of the strongest people I know united in marriage.  They have been through Hell and back, but they have stuck together through it all.  They talked about standing by each other in the face of adversity.  And watching that man, a man who was my rock for many years, walk down the aisle with his new wife made my eyes tear up.  His wheelchair waited for him at the end of the road, but he walked it.  He then danced with his wife.  That is love.  

I was chatting with one of the boys I went to high school with (we ‘dated’ for a month) when something came very clear to me.  I have been running from relationships since I was at least 14.

Alan annoyed me when I was sick. Game over.

Darren just annoyed me.  Game over.

Will wouldn’t give me what I wanted out of life.  I ran, but I think I had good reason.  Will and I lived a different lifestyle, and I still don’t want that lifestyle he has.

Marc, well, I think I fought for Marc, but in the end, I ran.  I didn’t want to put anymore effort into it.  That might be okay with me, I feel like I tried.

(Dennis I didn’t run fast enough).

Travis I put my everything into, and it broke me for a long time.  I could blame him or our relationship, but there is a pattern long before he came around of me running from ‘love’.

I have ran from Kim when times were tough for her (If you still read these, I still love you with everything, I just need to figure out how to stop running and pushing!).

Nick got a man cold that annoyed me, and eventually, I realized I couldn’t get over my annoyance.  I know that with Nick, the distance was probably a main problem, but still, I ran when times were tough for me.

I ran from Eric.  I know I wasn’t ready for a relationship at the time. I knew it at the time.  But ultimately, same story.  He annoyed me and I ran.  I had a bad day and I pushed as hard as I could against the relationship.

All my friends from high school, I didn’t want to open up for them, so I closed myself off and ran away.  Alan joked last night that he doesn’t remember seeing me after we broke up.  I know he was joking, but it was true.  I was a ghost the last two year of high school.  And I pushed people away.

I know I said it to Eric.  I push people away, and hope they will stick around, but it has now become clear to me that I don’t allow them that chance.

The stupid thing is, I desperately want people by my side.  I desperately want to be loved and to love in return.  I want a family someday.  How can I have a family when I push people away and then run from them!?

Right now, my theory is that I know this flaw.  I don’t know where it came from, and it doesn’t matter in the end.  I am not going to go to counseling right now.  I am going to put effort into the relationships in my life.  I am going to try to not to push people away.  I am going to try not to run.  But for those of you that read this, don’t let me push and run!  I need help from those of you that already love me unconditionally.

A Faith Based Essay?

I was asked tonight, if I were to write an essay about my faith, what would it say? (One of the biggest supports for homeless in this city is a faith-based mission, and asked for a letter of your faith with your application, so I haven’t applied at all).

So, I thought about it.

I didn’t grow up in the church, and accepted all the atheism that is rampant in our society for a long time.  When things happened that there is no explanation for beyond that it is a miracle, I was willing to admit there was a higher power, but I have always been reluctant to name it.  My theory was that who was I to claim one higher being as the higher being against all other believes.  But, I remain feeling lost in life, like I am missing something important.  I find myself drawn to Aboriginal beliefs about Creation more than I do about Jesus saving the world 2000 plus years ago.  Nature has always calmed my soul.  Nature is far more related to Creation than it is God, in my world.  I like that Creation asks you to give yourself up to the world and you will learn.  From my understanding, Christianity requires you to read a book and pray.  The answers do not come from with inside of you, but from God.  Maybe Creation works closer to my belief that I have to fix myself on my own.  Maybe, I have no idea.

There are events in my life that have proved to me that a higher power exists. 

The day Erin and I went off the highway at a pretty decent speed.  How we felt the car start to flip, and how it calmly settled down without harming either of us.  We will both tell you that it felt like the car was placed gently down.  Sure, the snow bank on the side of the car was high, but we were both sure we were going to flip.  I believe someone was watching us, and it wasn’t our time to die, or to be hurt.

Agogo was limp in my arms.  He had been practically comatose all day.  His fever was high.  We were on the second round of malaria meds.  He wasn’t responding.  His eyes didn’t recognize anything.  He hadn’t eaten in two days.  I know I know nothing about medicine, or malaria but I could feel him slipping away in my arms.  I went home and prayed with everything I had.  Agogo had to get better. I couldn’t lose him with all the other heartbreak I was currently going through.  I sobbed and prayed until I fell asleep in exhaustion.  The next morning at bath time, Agogo had some life in him.  By the end of the day, he was our Agogo again.

On a less extreme note, my heart was broken and I could barely function.  I was dejected and wanted to cry my life away. I went to the orphanage because I was expected, but those faces broke my heart again.  My boy, a mischievous boy always into trouble, took my hand and we spent a quiet morning together.  He showed me more love in that morning that I have ever felt in my life.  Although it would take many more months for me to heal, he reminded me of all the good in my life and how much he loved me anyways.

A part of me always wanted to explain these things away as coincidence.  Agogo’s med’s started working.  Desmond just saw how sad I was and wanted to help in the only way he knew how.  Or, God was working in my life when I needed him the most.

My major life choices have always been easy; they always felt like it was the only choice for me.  God has a plan for everyone.  I always knew where I was supposed to go and where I was supposed to be.  I went away on a mental breakdown, and knew that Africa was the place for me.  Ghana helped me grow in so many ways and set me on another journey.  In China, when I desperately needed help, Erin started a Worship night.  At first I went out of curiosity, but it became one night a week where I felt like I fit in.  I liked the way Erin could decipher the Bible and make it so real.  I liked that it was the one time I felt like I could be vulnerable and share my fears and struggles.  I liked that it was one night a week I felt like I could fit in with the others.  This worship time was one of the things I missed most about China.  I have not yet found a fit like that back in Canada.  Erin found a church for me in Prince George, and I liked it, but it was hard to get to and I didn’t go a lot.  I enjoyed the church, but never met anyone in it.  So when I moved to Kamloops (another easy decision for me), I was excited to find Summit Drive.  This church has a large young adult population, and several of my classmates also attend.  I still struggle with attending services though.  Sometimes I find the small talk hard.  But, I am still working on it.

Sometimes I wonder if finding faith would benefit me.  I feel at a standstill in my healing journey.  I don’t feel like dealing with some of the stuff (I know I need to, but I feel stuck in it – I don’t know – I guess I feel  counseled out right now).  A woman spoke tonight at Young Adults.  She told her story – one of abuse and neglect.  Her story in a lot of ways was me (not the abuse and neglect but what arose from it).  She spoke of depression, anxiety, self-hatred, no confidence, and an inability to trust anyone, including God.  Does that sound like anyone we know?  She spoke of how God wouldn’t let her kill herself although she tried three times.  She spoke about learning to trust God and how now when the negative thoughts come in, she can tell them where to go.  I wonder if it is possible to heal without faith in the higher beings.  I want to be able to do that.

Maybe I am stuck in my own beliefs.  I am a little bit of an oddball after all!  I like taking my beliefs from various religions and various lifestyles.  But, I don’t really know enough about any of them to know what I want or what I believe.  I grew up with Christian ideals even if I didn’t grow up with Christianity.  However, I kind of think that what is called Christian values should often be human values – love thy neighbor, don’t steal, don’t cheat, help those in need etc.

How does one even become a Christian?

Guess I probably shouldn’t apply at the mission; this isn’t a faith essay but a questioning essay!  Maybe if I have time this summer, I will try to talk to Pastor Dave more often and see if there are more answers to these questions!